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November 23, 2006
Thanksgiving
Walking through my neighborhood this morning, starting slowly at first with a little stumble and a chill, I began to warm up to the surprising adventure unfolding before me.
One of the first things I noticed lying on the street curb, was a fat newspaper wrapped in plastic with the large, red word, ‘SALE’ on it.
This is the day that America gives thanks for what we have in our lives. At least that is what Thanksgiving is supposed to be about... starting with those pilgrims of so long ago that should have been forever grateful to the Native Americans who saved their lives during that long, harsh, first winter in this country. Who knew things would change so much.
Yesterday, I was part of the last minute furry to get all that was needed at the grocery store. After a rather unpleasant competition for a parking space, the inside of the store was another matter.
Turkeys were pilled high in one section, their frozen, plump shapes awakened in me the reminder of how many met their demise so recently. Cans of sweet potatoes were stacked like sky scrappers, with bags of marshmallows falling over next to them. I grabbed a good bottle of wine on sale, along with all my salad stuff that I will be bringing to the home of my friends and family. A store manager directed us like cattle to the next best line to stand in for a record breaking length of time.
This morning, as I walked along, the acorns under my feet were crunching into the pavement of the 1950’s street. The activity of the animals was higher than their usual summer pace, with many birds and squirrels busying themselves in their morning jaunts for food and camaraderie.
It is a brisk 50 degrees, and the sun is shinning on my face and body, pulling me along into it’s path with every step.
To my left I see him, proudly standing a few feet away in the front yard of a home that has it’s share of large trees. I then see the squirrel run for it’s life to a tree that probably seemed a hundred miles away at that moment. But he is lucky, because my presence has distracted the thing he fears, this beautiful bird of pray... the hawk.
He takes off anyway, flying toward the running squirrel, but I could see that he wasn’t really trying. He gracefully swooped up to a branch in the tree, turning to look down in my direction. All my being was in total awe to see him standing there, and to realize what I have had the privilege to witness.
As he took off to where I could not follow, another one flew low over my head from another direction. My heart was beating with pleasure and then I heard the unmistakable sounds of a multitude of crows up ahead. They were in a very tall tree and quite upset at the creature sitting on the highest branch, who was probably the first hawk that flew from his disturbed hunt of just a few minutes ago.
The entire rest of my walk was filled with exhilaration. I contemplated about what I had taken in. A few telephone wires above my head that stretch along a bayou I was crossing, were filled with doves having their morning conference. I seemed to break up the meeting as most of them flew away in a large grouping, their many wings making the soft sounds they always do, now against the sharp blue sky.
My gratitude became alive this morning... activated in this ritual walking that I do. I am giving thanks today, and will hopefully be reminded every day of the many things to be grateful for.
Posted by kay at 09:56 AM | Comments (0)