Yesterday morning as I stepped into the kitchen after returning from church, Izzie was there to greet me. Izzie is our official welcome-home-greeter. If she isn’t already at the door when we walk in, we usually hear a faraway thump from upstairs followed by the quick soft pat of her feet coming down the stairs and tinkling of her bell as she runs to see us. Her motives are not pure, she definitely has her own agenda. During daylight hours she generally wants to be let outside and other times she just wants a bite to eat. Usually, like the good cat hosts we are; we give her what she wants. Yesterday she wanted out. I opened the door for her and as she cleared the threshold, the look she gave me made it clear that she wanted me to join her.
I don’t get outside much this time of year. Walks to the mailbox and to and from the car in parking lots don’t really count as quality outside time. The past few weeks it’s been wet and I haven’t felt all that great so I’ve been holed up in the house pretty much. I was so hopeful last Thursday that we’d finally get some snow and was truly looking forward to going out to hear the quiet, smell the freshness and feel the cold on my cheeks but it wasn’t to be. We didn’t get so much as a flake; just more rain. Yesterday was a beautiful day. The sky was clear and there was enough sunlight to warm my face. Since I still had my coat on, I decided to join her in the backyard.
My initial intention was to just walk around the perimeter of the yard, to check out the gardens and then come back inside. But it was such a glorious morning, warm and bright, I decided to grab my coffee and spend a bit more time outside.
Last spring I created a little sitting area for myself up the hill out back. My vision was that it would be my quiet place, just far enough away from the house to sit andread, think and pray. I admit I haven’t used it as much as I thought I would. For most of the summer and fall the mosquitos feasting on my legs made it too much of a challenge to spend time up there. But yesterday, with the crisp winter air, I could sit bug free in the quiet and enjoy the beauty of the day.
Izzie led the way up the hill, clearly pleased that I was with her. After situating me in my chair and giving me several head rubs against my legs, she walked off to one of her favorite hunting area to patiently wait for the rustling of a mouse or mole under the leaves. It is amazing how she will sit motionless for long periods of time, waiting for a sign. Her resolve is inspiring as she sits in expectation, refusing to be distracted from her mission.
How I would love to be like that; to stay focused on one thing at a time, to allow myself that luxury. Yesterday morning, for a few brief minutes I was able to do just that. Sitting in my warm red chair on the hill, I closed my eyes and let nature become my focus. There were so many bird songs; titmice, cardinals and finches punctuated by the occasional call of a crow and strident tapping of a woodpecker. The gentle breeze caused the dormant upper branches of the trees to gently sway and tap against each other with a soft woody sound. In the distance I heard the muted noise of traffic on US 29. All are the sounds of my backyard, grounded in nature but connected to the world.
Occasionally Izzie returned to me for a pet, reminding me that despite her focused attention to her task, she was nonetheless aware of my presence. I gave her a good scratch on the neck to let her know that likewise, I was still with her. Eventually my focus turned to the rumblings of my stomach and it was time to go inside. As I came down from my hill, Izzie remained, still focused on her hunt. I had already captured what I was looking for, a bit of time and quiet.