Saturday, September 8, 2007

Outside My Studio Window

While working at my computer, this weekend morning is as most. I scan the headlines, read that which is of interest and then I may bring up a blank Word sheet and begin to type as I do now.

The quiet atop this hillside offers an opportunity for uninterrupted projects and wonderful moments of meditation and silent introspection. Thoughts tend to flow more freely here, and while trying to compose those, I generally glance out one of the windows and rather than think of all these trees and plants which we placed in the ground, one by one over the course of some thirteen years, I am mindful of what is before me while thoughts continue in the direction of the writing.

The breeze gracefully lifts the lower lying branches of the Tri-colored beech, which circulate the space within its reach, then gently lays them back into position. Suddenly the Steller's Jays (the west's cousin to the Blue Jay) glide playfully from tree to tree announcing their station with that cacophonous "bark", and occasionally one will appear at the gutter above my window and give it a peck or two, as if to alert me back to work. Almost as quickly as these arrive, they depart. And there is silence once again.

Lo and behold! From nowhere appears this unexpected visitor, a giant monster eerily scaling, peering, appearing up over the towering 100 foot Douglas Fir trees and is heading towards our house! "Hurry, come quickly", I yelled to my husband, for I was uncertain as what difficulty may lay ahead. Had they gotten off course? Were they in trouble? Grab the camera, remove the screen, open the window and snap!

In a matter of moments my fear was allayed. As I ran to the deck, I realized this was a unique opportunity, a Kodak moment, for I saw the giant monster being gently ushered away from the house and garden ...

and was just in time to turn back around into the early morning light to see another approaching.
How quickly it slid above me. I imagined how perfectly the complementary colors of blue and yellow were mixed on the sky's palette to yield the balloon's green stripe.

All was silent until the whoosssh of the ignited gas sent warmth into the balloon. The air became calmer as we stood and watched the sun caress the morning tree tops and the two visitors hover calmly, balancing the framed sky and allowing its passengers one last glimpse of the valley and coastal range prior to their descent.

What a magnificent way to start a day, and I just happened to be "thinking" outside my studio window. Isn't the unexpected wonderful?