I am happy to be able to feel. It's not always been this way. Those on the outside would never know the fears and tears that have filled my insides.
Something flies past the window, a bat or an owl. Last weekend, three bats flew up from the rocky bluff below darting and dipping nearing the ground as we sat before fall's first fire. Then three herons flew just over the tree tops calling and later an owl quietly passed through on a whisper.
To feel joy is such a gift. Joy is what I heard in the voices of a South African choir in a tiny homeland church in the 80's. Joy is what I saw in the faces of Russian people, young and old, in the 80's before the wall came down. And joy is what I will feel this weekend as I turn eighteen pounds of organically grown Roma tomatoes from just over the North Carolina boarder into salsa. Just the thought of tomatoes everywhere makes me smile. Even as I write tears come again to my eyes.
I came to tears of joy late in life. Better late than never. I want to have cried tears of laughter, joy, sorrow, why, gladness, goodness and sadness. I want to have lived without regret, to have paid attention to the ritual and rhythms of nature.
I came to the country alone and am reminded when I am listening I am never alone. Through Earth's simple, beautiful gifts I am brought to life.
What brings you to life? What brings you joy?
-Dawn, The Good News Muse 23 October 2011