Synchronicity

Earth. Rushing water. Blueys. I walk down the gravel path beside the swollen creek, sneakers crunching, heart beating, my soul lost in the song of the morning. The sun warms my cheek as my eyes drink in the cache of tiny blue flowers blooming along the creek bank. Others delight in robins as heralds of spring; I look for ‘blueys’, a wild variety of figwort or speedwell that I affectionately nicknamed.

The highway in the distance rumbles and pulsates with work traffic; the road behind me is alive too. Redwings call, a little song sparrow sits on a dead sprig pumping his little throat with jubilant song. Pines along the creek dance and sway, boughs whispering secrets of earth, water and sky. I walk, breathe deeply of earthiness, of the joy of living, of the dankness of goose droppings and dead night crawlers washed up, vulnerable and exposed on the path, their lives sacrificed and now fertilizing, sustaining us all. I show respect and gratitude as I step over each offering.

Carey, my Australian Cattle Dog, is in complete sync with me. I walk and she trots. I stop; draw in a quick breath over a flash of blue brilliance, she stops, waits, watches. Does she see the bluebird too? I resume walking; she trots. I turn, cock my head to listen. Cardinal is whit-whit-whitting somewhere high in a tree, Blue Jay screeches, a goose rises up from still waters, all dripping and feather rustling, then settles into stillness, the construction site to my left spills noises of pounding and sawing. I suddenly notice Carey also paused, ears perked, head cocked for better listening.

Awe washes over me, warms my belly, tingles my skin. Every cell in my body vibrates. I am the wolf pack. I am the earth. I am dying. I am fully alive. I am synchronized, united with dog and earth and Love and wonder. I am community, sharing nature’s Eucharist.

In one instant I know more of God than ever before, and also realize I know utterly nothing about God. I have just experienced love expanding me; I don’t need any search for meaning. I am simply here, strengthened by rushing creek water, enlightened in the song of the mocking bird, receiving God smiles in blue weed flowers, communing with the Whole.

Joyfully,
Sharon

Carey, 10 years young!