Blossoms Around Town
As it is every year, the Azalea Walk at the National Arboretum fills me with joy and wonder. “Was it really this splendid last year?” one of my companions asked. “I go every year,” she said, “but I forget how gorgeous it is!” She comes back each year to remember the beauty and the awe. So, too, it can be with our practice. We stop going to class or practicing our meditation or asana for a while because we get too busy. Then we come back, and we ask ourselves how we could have forgotten the joy and beauty a steady practice brings us, and we are inspired to commit again.
It was, I think, after having been eaten nearly alive when painting the exterior of my house, that my handyman asked me whether I wanted him to put up a bat house. “Oh yes,” was my enthusiastic response. “I love bats.” The bat house is up. I hope against hope that some bats will make their way into my little yard in an inner city alley and come to feast on the mosquitoes. I am not holding my breath, but anything can happen. One day, a couple of years ago, a hummingbird appeared out of no where to hover in my garden.
