There’s a scene early in the novel Their Eyes Were Watching God (Zora Neale Hurston) when the girl is completely absorbed in the branches of a pear tree, intoxicated by the bees and the blossoms. This image always comes up for me at this time in Spring when the blooms hit. And that’s what they do– it’s an explosion.
One day. Boom.
Here on the street where I live, it happened Thursday morning.
I came out about 6 am to let the dogs down the front steps and sha-ZAM. The pale, pale yellow-green of baby tree leaves were in masses of small clusters like so many balls of popcorn. Ditto for the fruit trees except they were swarms of pink and white.
I know most people are in danger of crashing their car because their heads are down on their i-phone texting. Me? I’m an inch away from driving up sidewalks because my head is craning out the window looking up trying to take it all in. But I can’t. Of course I can’t. And I can’t even remotely, not even slightly, capture one tiny bit of what I see in the course of a day unless all I did was walk the streets with a camera in my hand from morning to night — and even then, not even a tiny bit could be caught.
I don’t like the feeling of being overwhelmed which probably explains a lot about my life choices. However, something I have come to realize lately is that it doesn’t much matter whether you spiral out and expand your consciousness to see all of what’s going on in the world, read all the news, spend hours in social media, etc OR, spiral in, sit under a tree and watch squirrels run back and forth— there’s no end in either direction. Micro / Macro.
I am still re-reading this book — one part I liked particularly:
Want some more play? Check this out: “When we grow older, we can lose our open mind to the world and it becomes so much more difficult to live in the moment,” she writes. “Playing and laughing can bring us back to the here and now. [It’s] so vital for our well-being.”
I hope your weekend gave you just what you needed most–