This has happened to me on numerous occasions: I go for a walk through the park - or anywhere for that matter - on a mission to use my body and recharge my spirit in the natural world. I’m always surprised on the return loop, how everything begins to come into focus: I’m noticing what I didn’t notice on the way out. Sights and sounds and smells enter my senses, that somehow eluded my speeding mind and jerking steps when I began the trek. Once my breathing has slowed, and my body has shaken off the daily cloud of distraction and tension, I enter this sacred space of pulsing life with all of my senses engaged. Maybe, it’s a force-field one can only penetrate in a certain state of mind, or no state of mind.

It happened again, today, right in my backyard.

After a relatively frustrating morning dealing with computer issues (no need to replay that rant), I hit my pause button and walked outside to stand in a patch of sun on the patio. Still chilly in the shade, but the sun warmed the bricks and reflected off the fence in this corner. I was still stewing, but trying to shift my energy in hopes of a more productive afternoon. And, then, I turned to look out at the hills to the northeast where Grizzly Peak dominates. A dressing of snow is still layered over the ridge and into the creases and clefts below. I smiled at the welcoming beauty of this landscape and, through my eyes, my heart rushed into its embrace, inhaling the feast of its contours and textures. Soon I was breathing slower, easier, my neck relaxing as I followed the landscape from the snowy peak down to the bare foothills. When I felt sated, I let my gaze retreat back across the valley to my neighborhood.

Just before my eyes reentered the patio, I was startled at what appeared above me: Coming into focus for the first time were ten thousand tiny, glowing, white plum-flower buds holding their breath - about to exhale, ready to unfold. I beheld the broad expanse of branches leaning into my yard from my neighbors plum tree. How had I missed this spectacle as I first gazed out across the neighborhood? Had it been lit from within, this display would be mistaken for a stunning galaxy, each far-away star twinkling its mystery. My smile grew into a full body grin - I felt gifted in the most magical of ways. I have to say, as much as I love full bloom, there is a provocative and thrilling story in the budding world - the world we find ourselves in right now, in the countdown to Spring Equinox. Immediately, I superimposed the intriguing and luscious metaphor of 'what is possible' on each glowing bud. And, I entered this galaxy to make my wish. Rescued from computer stress by a galaxy of plum-flower buds!

“Like a bolt out of the blue, fate steps in to see you through” 
(from, "When you wish upon a star", one of my favorite tunes ever!)

The buds were a gift and a reminder. They seemed to say,
“Hey dreamer, we’re always home, drop by anytime. Just leave your spinning life for a moment and visit”

At top is a new illustration: Dreams Do Come True. The white flower image is derived from an original photo of a living white Chrysanthemum. Words inspired by "When you wish upon a star".