small blessings

This morning I was walking up the trail. It was bright and sunny but still cool, and utterly peaceful. Fenris had lagged a bit behind, and so I whistled to her. Just above me, a small songbird called back almost immediately; I had inadvertantly triggered his territorial instincts, I think, because his whistle sounded a lot like mine. This time of year, he probably has a nest.

So for the next couple of minutes, we whistled back and forth. I couldn't see him, of course, lost in the redwoods. On the way back, I stopped in the same place and he called again.

I looked out across the canyon through a gap in the trees. Sunlight was streaming down, finding all the tender greens in the new growth on the redwood tips, so many greens, dazzling. The trees were full of white butterflies, everywhere, moving quickly but without hurry. A new cohort must have just hatched; there were clouds of them.

Heya, namaste. The world is sacred.