If I hadn’t paused while standing in the kitchen this morning to take the moldy orange out to the compost pile I wouldn’t have felt my feet standing on the soft bed of clover or the warm kiss of the sun on my face or the trees nourishing breath enter my lungs or the birds sweet songs surrounding and soothing me If I hadn’t slowed down enough to step outside today I wouldn’t have felt the profound jolt of joy when I looked down to see a tiny spotted feather on the ground in front of me as I followed the path back home.
Listen to me read, “Tiny Feather” out loud if you’d like: