Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Summer is on the way


I feel surrounded by beauty this morning, in spite of the fact that the actual day outside is no great shakes. We had rain off and on last night. Today promises to be gray and humid, with more rain in the afternoon. A sullen sun takes an occasional peek through the haze, but appears to prefer to hide its brilliance. It appears that our unusally long, cool springtime is finally bowing out to make room for the sticky, hot temperatures that are a hallmark of summer for this area.

But look who has taken up residence in a flower hanging on the front porch. I am in love with mourning doves. Their tawny coat looks lush enough to get lost in. Their innocent stare dares you to think there's not a sentient soul behind it. They trust. They pair so openly and warmly. Their cooing adds a quieting back note to any day. Instead of careering frantically through space searching for food, they perch calmly above the feeder to await the sunflower seed. They are models of serenity and patience. And we are honored with the presence of a family on our premises.

This morning is uncluttered enough to allow me the time to savor my music. I think everything I have deserves to be shared here--there's always an audience for even the most wide-ranging styles--but I enjoyed finding music that was just right for the mood of this day. Today is hump day for most of you office folk, and for Steve and me, it's the last day before we head for our other life on the water. In either case, there is cause for optimism. And even if you have no place special to go and you don't work, welcome change is coming anyway. I always wondered before I retired how I would know it was the weekend. Well, now I can say you just know. The rhythms are different, sometimes busier, sometimes more relaxed, but those two days remain distinct from the rest of the week. So most of us are headed shortly for a welcome change in routine.

The ongoing concerns of our life remain. Job, retirement possibilities, real estate--all these situations stay unchanged for the moment. We still await the results of that company job Steve interviewed for several weeks ago. Questions can nag, doubts can gnaw, sleep can be lost. The hardest life lesson for me is not to sweat what I can't control. I seem always to be re-learning it. It's these plentiful, peaceful moments that make me grateful for the here and now.

9 comments:

Kat said...

Ralph,
I too learned not to worry over what is out of my control. It makes life just so much easier.

We have rain, and my landscaper is planting the flowers I bought. I pointed; he planted. I love our arrangement.

Around here, the weekend signals the onslaught of tourists, the never ending line of cars across the bridge. If not for that, I'd lose track.

Ralph said...

Sounds like a good day up there despite the rain. What flowers did you get?

Mim said...

RALPH,
A lovely and peaceful sounding post amidst your questions and unkown future.
Glad you have your 'spot' in Delaware to get away to on wknds!

Mim

Kat said...

Ralph,
Black Eyed Susan, English lavender and more but I forget. All were perennials which I usually buy hoping they'll be back next year. Most survive.

Anonymous said...

I've missed commenting on your posts but I've been "here in cyber" reading them.

The flowers were beautiful - the music diverse and good - the food, interesting!

Life's lesson in learning to let go of trying to control may be one all of us struggle with When it comes to necessity, such as having a job, having money for retirement and issues that seemingly grow more challenging as we grow older - makes the lesson loom up frequently.

I fret frequently - try to refocus - yet, often I too spend the sleepless night.

Thank you for the post and the comments. It is always good advice.

Linda
SE PA

Ralph said...

Linda, Mim, thanks to you both. Peace is the absence of struggle. If you prize order, not struggling against things over which you have no control is hard. It's times like those that the lessons of meditation are especially handy. A brick wall is just there, it's not going away. The great lesson is learning now to deal with that reality.

Zoey & Me said...

Raff,

I can't find your post/comment warning me to be careful having switch doctors . . . sadly your warning was right on . . "chest x-ray fine, hey whats going on in your colon below your stomach??" I said, "nothing." Well guess where I'm booked tomorrow afternoon for a C Scan??? Duh. See you guys later, maybe in the afterlife, damn, I'm going to miss Kat at Coffee.

Cuidado said...

Wonderful that you have a mourning dove nesting in your geraniums. I guess you won't be able to water them.

Don't sweat the small stuff or choose your battles. Lessons I learned raising kids.

Ralph said...

Z&M, I'll be thinking of you this afternoon and hoping for the best. Please keep your blog family as informed as you can, comfortably---we care about you. Good luck.