Strands of hair dance about my face as a sweet, cooling breeze washes over me. I breathe in the scent of water, fish, ducks, geese, new mown grass and impending rain.
Strands of hair dance about my face as a sweet, cooling breeze washes over me. I breathe in the scent of water, fish, ducks, geese, new mown grass and impending rain. It is a green day. Green, and damp, and cool, and fragrant.
Fountains play music upon the water as white emir skim the surface like so many diminutive sharks, their dorsal fins jutting above the turquoise surface of the lake. A blue heron struts along the shore, searching for a quick aquatic snack while bullfrogs sing their baritone serenades.
The quacking of ducks blends with the honking of geese, merging into a soaring symbiotic symphony of sound. Birds twitter in the lacy, green canopy of leaves overhead, and the distant sound of a mower plays gently upon my ear.
I am in my temple; my deck is my pew. I sit and worship and am uplifted.
Gravel crunches; I turn my head. A neighbor walks by, lifting a friendly hand in greeting. I nod, smile, and return to my reverie.
Shadows shift; rain is imminent. I hear the distant sound of thunder. Soon the storm will roll in, and I will bear witness to the glory of Creator: lightening! rain! thunder! My sister would say that the Thunder Beings are here. I say "God is showing off."
There is a great noise to the West: honking and flapping, as 90-odd geese rise from the lake and in V-formed glory, mount, mount, mount toward the sky. They pass me at eye level. I am in awe! I cannot breathe!
Excerpt from Son of My Soul The Adoption of Christopher, Debra Shiveley Welch, Saga Books, copyright 2007
