It’s slushy out and white. I woke up to the sound of falling snow, and an all snow covered landscape. A squirrel leaped onto my balcony as I opened my eyes, and dug in the snow for the bits of corn and seed underneath. I’m not sure why she didn’t move the couple of feet along the rail where snow hadn’t collected. I think they rather like digging through the snow for a treasure. Now a mountain chickadee alights on the rail, picks up a sunflower seed and flies away. Jays have landed, screeched, eaten and flown away all morning.

Now the early snow, which began sometime in the night, has turned to a slushy rain. The temperature must be now a little over freezing. The snwo is being washed away in the light drizzle, but not quickly.

I sit here pondering my writing, and pondering the swirling about in the spiritual realms, feeling a little slow in my own cognizance and response, and rather lacking in real wisdom and insight. I stumbled around yesterday, getting things done, going for a long walk in the misty, dramatic weather, with no developed understanding. So, today, having sought wisdom amidst the storm and trees, I sit trusting in what I am callled to do, and trusting that God is working in the rest.

I can worry, or I can not. It’s that simple, neither way will change a thing, but will only change how easily I track through this season. I act on whims which seems to be inspired by the Spirit, trying to tune my ear to hear the gentle song.

I write today listening to the quiet chirp of the chickadees, and the soft rhythm of rain hitting the snow covered hillsides. It is a soothing sound to be sure, one that inspires, inspires me to go downstairs and make a cup of earl gray tea.

So I will. Some whims are less dramatic than others, and while their pleasure is not as grand an outcome, it is significantly more immediate. Maybe I’ll have a bagel as well… with honey.