I’ve been to the Botanical Gardens dozens of times and somehow never saw her before. She’s huge. How could I have missed her? Did they trim back the foliage around her, exposing her? Or was I simply more present this time?
And this foot bridge into the Japanese Garden, it wasn’t always there, was it?
Gentle direction, and protection.
I love the smell of dirt. The rustle of the leaves. The sun filtering through the branches. The sound of a little stream. It doesn’t take long. Ten, twenty minutes before my breathing changes. I become more calm. Petty worries melt away. Solutions to larger concerns become more clear.
A trip to the gardens. Or coffee on the deck behind the house with little birds flitting about. Squirrels doing acrobatics in the branches of the trees. Right now I’m sitting in the big front window. Screens wide open, breathing fresh air, watching my happy kids ride by on their scooters. Green leafy trees, pink and yellow and purple and orange flowers still abound. Not for for long, I know. I’m about to close my computer and get out there.
Mother Nature will tend to us if we let her.
We just have to go outside.