Freddie the Leaf

The wisdom found in children's books is astounding - like "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf" (Dr. Leo Buscaglia) - a book I discovered in the mid-80's when I needed to talk to my daughters about life and death and life. 'Pulled it from my bookshelf again last week as I watched the gentle rain of leaves falling from the heights of The Enchanted Forest. What charmed me most is the individual dance of each leaf as it makes its final journey - as if it's giving one final gift to the tree that nurtured it. It's one last act of great dignity - refusing to go without one last beautiful act. Ironically, a very special person named "Freddie" that I once knew would describe it as "turning style all the way in" - I think you'd have to be a skydiver to understand that one - but it's a lesson I hope never to forget - being graceful to the end and leaving the world with great gentility and style. What beautiful lessons - I am grateful!

Stars in my eyes

The Enchanted Forest offers so many blessings that I love and appreciate, not the least of which is the beautiful canopy of trees that stretch to the sky and dance in the wind. But it has been a true loss for me that I can no longer enjoy the wide-open unending sky that my Florida home gave me. I had spent the last year growing in my understanding of the order of the universe, and studying (and celebrating) the gift of the sky had become an important ritual for me. The reliability of the sunrise and the gentle movement of the river of stars in the night sky became a strong confirmation of the never-failing 'rightness' of the universe.

One of my favorite moments happened during a visit to our Florida home by Courtney and family, when (then) 10-year-old Megan and I lounged in the hammock and studied the stars for what seemed like hours. We celebrated that we could feel close to each other, even after she returned home, by looking at the stars and knowing that the vast heavens were a comforting blanket for both of us even though we were hundreds of miles apart.

I have found myself actually grieving the loss of that experience, as my view of the sky is extremely limited here. But Sunday night, little dog Lucy helped me discover a blessing that I would have missed had she slept through the night as usual. Her need to visit the outdoors at 2:30a.m. seemed inconvenient, but turned into a true gift when I looked up through the tiny opening in the tree canopy covering the backyard deck and saw my favorite constellation, Orion! It was bright, clear and comforting, and I smiled at the reminder that Orion and all his stellar friends were keeping watch over me, Megan, and all of mankind. The leafy canopy may obscure my vision of the spectacle, but the spectacle remains just the same. I celebrate!