The Earth is Breathing...

The Earth Is Breathing...

A meaningful reflection...

Sunday morning: 6 AM

The sun’s morning rays are streaming through my window, creating a summer-gold tint on my face. The subtle breeze makes a "whoosh" sound and causes my window curtains to ripple. Time feels so still. On my windowsill, a daisy bud I planted weeks ago is finally sprouting. The other seeds have already emerged and grown into dainty daisies. Earth’s life cycle is interesting like that. Change is constant to every small moment... I’ll check on my little bud in a few hours.

Sunday morning: 9:30 AM

I'm in the veggie garden now and the sun is hiding behind the most dreamy pearl-white and ash-grey clouds. It looks like it’s going to rain soon; not that I'm complaining- the rain's sound is so suave. Myy tomatoes are finally looking bright red and ripe, ready to get picked. My grape leaves on the other hand, have small toothpick-sized holes; it must have been those pesky caterpillars again. 

Sunday morning: 9:45 AM

It just drizzled, as I had expected, and now the grey clouds visible around the colossal mountains up ahead in front of my secluded cottage are a more stormy color, with streaks of lighter grey running through them. I’m heading inside again...

Sunday morning: 11:00 AM

It’s heavily pouring and the wind is howling; my tiny daisy bud has finally sprouted into a minuscule flower! It finally grew, after weeks of waiting. The “pitter-patter” of the rain is such a tranquil sound, and the stream running down from the hill behind my fence is gushing with fresh water. Ducks and their little babies waddle around that stream occasionally, only to be scared away by puppy. Those small things make me wonder...

Sunday afternoon: 1:30 PM

Today has been nothing but languid, and the rain seems to be morphing into a lightning storm. Change... again. In a flowy pine tree shading the outskirts of my garden, there’s the faded sound of the bluebirds who were merrily chirping this morning. Suddenly, a lightning strike went "BANG!" out of nowhere, with the purple electricity vibrantly showing. Touching down, it hit a little too close to the tree, and from a distance, I was able to see a small animal fall out of the tree. A gasp sounded from me, and pity wove threw my calm aura. Water is still pouring as though a waterfall were present- the bird must have been drowned by now. RIP baby bluebird...

Image courtesy- Pixy.org

Sunday afternoon: 3:45 PM

The lightning strikes gradually went away, and so did the rain. The sun was (finally) emerging from the distance, regaining the spotlight that it had lost in the dark shadows. Mud layered the ground for as far as I could see around my abode, and little earthworms were wiggling their way out of the Earth. A fresh start after a gloomy day...

Sunday evening: 5:40 PM

I decided to take my dog on an evening stroll through a sunflower patch. The prominent yellow flowers breathing in the crystalized, foggy air. It was a truly wholesome walk; to be able to gaze up at the sky and see murders of crows soaring into the great beyond, to be able to intake the freshest air, and to be able to think in complete silence, with only a view and my imagination around me. The baby bluebird that had fallen to the ground had passed away like I thought, but surprisingly, I didn't shed tears of sorrow for the mother bird because I knew the bird would come to that same nest once again in the future. It’s how the Earth functions, as I've learned...

Sunday night: 11:30 PM

It’s chilly outside now, the night is still, and wolves are howling from far away. Sitting down, I’ve found a feeling of warmth and comfort. Life is a circle and a process, and I’ve finally found acceptance in that- after years of fearing, and more over, doubting why everything is the way it is. If the earth is breathing, then I can breathe too, because it is still breathing.

Image courtesy- Unsplash