Pulse of the land

I was in a meeting with one of my supervisors/professors and several other classmates a few months ago on a lovely day. I kept glancing out the window, looking at the view of the trees and mountains beyond. My supervisor noticed this, and commented, "Wow, you are really drawn outside, aren't you?"

This got me thinking. Who wouldn't glance outside during a meeting (not that it was that boring)? But if there is a window nearby, I need to know what the weather is like. I love watching the rhythms of nature unfold before my eyes, delight in the unexpectedness and excitement that weather can bring and feel connected to something so real when I can see the outdoors.

We had a sudden hailstorm yesterday. As everyone was thinking about the damage to their cars, I could only be amazed and delighted in this incredible, unpredictable phenomenon. The little bits of hail danced everywhere, furious and brief in their attack. And then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

We have lived here long enough that I have been through all of the seasons twice, and now, the third time through, I feel as though I understand the breath of this place. I can feel what different clouds may mean, know what different smells predict, and can anticipate the next delightful changes. I love feeling the rhythms and knowing that there is something bigger and more eternal than the everyday life.