maybe

"I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk. But it's spring and the thrush is in the woods, somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing. And so now I am standing by the open door. And now I am stepping onto the grass, I am touching a few leaves. I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies move together, in a twinkling cloud over the field. And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening is the real work. Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem." - Mary Oliver

I love this. It speaks to me on a few different levels. I discovered this passage yesterday in a book that I read from often, Meditations on the Mat. I had an hour or so before class so I decided to go outside, sit and work at a table behind Patchen Village. I flipped open my book and my eyes landed on this passage. I have this love affair with nature, with being outside. There are times when it's beauty stops be dead in my tracks. Like last night when I was driving soon from the studio on my pretty little country road...the sun was setting and it was HUGE and a beautiful shade of red-orange. I wanted to pull off on the side of the road and watch it set. Had there been at least two lanes, I would have. But in that moment I gave thanks. Thankful that I had a great home and husband to go home to, thankful for the car I drove, thankful for the job I left, and the people I taught. It's moments like these in which all you have to do is look closely and listen intently. Nature has a way of putting everything into perspective.