I have a really hard time being still.   I always seem to need something to do to keep me busy.  On this beautiful spring day, one could hope I could sit out on the patio and just enjoy it.  But no, that was not going to happen.  I tried.  I prepared a drink – brown liquor.  I am, after all, a Southern girl, even on a Sunday.  I brought out my iPad.  Nope.  Not happening.  I squirmed, tired of Facebook surfing and then felt a little guilty that I could not just sit and enjoy this amazing gift that the universe had provided me.

As they do every day, the birds were dipping and soaring around the trees and bushes, having noisy conversations amongst themselves.  I thought about my camera.  I don’t have a lens fast enough or powerful enough to get pictures of moving birds but I decided to bring out the camera and maybe take a few shots, just so I could enjoy nature and my favorite season of spring but have still something to keep me engaged.

I sat on the covered patio with my elbows propped on the table and the camera resting in my hands.  Of course the stubborn birds were nowhere to be seen.  A large yellow butterfly floated by.  Butterflies always remind me of my mom.  I became very still and watched the butterfly as it travelled on it’s winding path, pausing only briefly on the edge of a bush, then moving on.

I became aware of the gentle breeze.  I began to smell the trees.  That fresh, earthy but sweet smell I remembered from childhood.  I sometimes wonder if I have lost my sense of smell but it was there today and it smelled like a memory.

I listened.  The variety of chirps and tweets from the different types of birds felt like a lullaby.  I could hear what sounded like a cricket every now and then.  And then they came.  Birds of all colors – red, blue, yellow, brown, and black.  They landed in the trees around me.  They paused on small bushes that were just beginning to bloom after what I hope was the last gasp of winter’s breath.  

I have never been that interested in the types of birds outside my windows, only that they were there.  I caught a few shots of playful birds that dared to come close, close enough that I could capture a few shots as they danced on the closest, low hanging branches.

I was still.  And quiet.  I listened.  And it calmed my soul.