The dust disappeared about mid-morning yesterday. I noticed the sunshine seemed a bit brighter and the sight of the yellow wildflowers dancing in the breeze made me happy. Just thinking of their movement as dancing let me know my vision was beginning to clear.
It didn't even matter that I was settling in for hours of tedious work, sitting on my butt. The lightness in my heart ... a peacefulness ... was returning. I think writing about it helped. Taking it out of myself, sitting it on a table and analyzing it. Looking it square in the face. Describing it. Detaching it from me. That helped, and so did talking about it with someone who loves me, praying and knowing prayers were being said for me ... those also helped.
By the time Tom and I took the critters for a walk yesterday afternoon, I felt like myself again, able to appreciate the joy Max felt in wading into the pond up to his shoulders, the exhilaration Belle felt in zipping and leaping through the tall grasses and wildflowers, and the ecstasy Frankie felt in gobbling up half a dozen delectable teensy frogs. (No, I don't like him eating those little frogs - they're so cute! But judging by the squeals of delight he makes when he eats them, I think they must be to him what cheesecake is to me. Who am I to judge?)
These photos are from my morning walk. Even when I'm feeling down, I'm a sucker for my precious critters ... (heaven is also a pile of sand) ...
... and wildflowers ... in this case beautiful purple dandelions ...
... and our blooming cactus. I've been watching those buds for weeks now, waiting for them to open. It was worth the wait ...
