A couple weeks ago, a friend picked me up at noon to go to nearby Pisgah National Forest. Our plan was to walk her sweet dog to a waterfall we could scoot behind, a unique feature of this particular spot.
Treasured time with a friend.
Treasured time outside on a warm day in February.
Treasured time to BE.
Treasured time in gratitude.
We talked, and we didn’t.
We paused to be with flowing water, to be with warm rays, and to be with the sky of blue.
We were about the only ones on the trail that afternoon, a Wednesday, and we commented on our blessing – that we could take in the beauty of fresh air and water falling over a cliff in the middle of the day and week, that our lives enable us to do so.
We took the lead of another hiker, heading up a path that really wasn’t a path, to get a new perspective.
I allowed my friend to go higher than my stomach wanted to go, as it reminded me I carry discomfort with heights.
Going down, I stayed extremely mindful.
This wasn’t a day or place I wanted to break my first bone, thank you.
Safely down, it was time to sink deeper into reverie on a rock, watching water fly over the rock face, shimmering in the sun, snapping photos.
Beautiful!
So, dear reader, is this anything you can do sometime soon?
Can you grab a sun ray at lunchtime?
Move your chair into a beam?
Zip out before clouds move in?
I’m reveling in this newer habit of mine.
In the past, I’d notice the sun shining, which I wanted to walk beneath, but I’d delay and delay; then the day would cloud over.
Now I do a better job getting out there when I can.
Joyful!
And, I’m glad this post is wrapping up, because the sun is calling me onto the porch.
Catch a sun ray as you can!