By our front door sit two pots of Lantana, and our stone turtle–a small viewing pleasure that eases the pervasive flatness I mentioned a couple of days ago. In slowing down and noticing the everyday, quiet pleasure arises. The Lantana have grown a bit; it seems they are taking hold in their new home. Their job is to survive, and they were plunked in these pots, so they are making the best of it–even though they weren’t transplanted at the best of times. They were already blooming, and putting effort above ground, and suddenly, additional effort is required below ground.

Here’s another quiet delight–
About every four days, I rinse and scrub out the bird bath, so the birds have clean water to drink. I noticed that when I dumped the water it was digging a hole in the flower bed beyond it, so I searched for river rocks to make a landing place for the torrent of water at cleaning time. The process of placing the rocks was a quiet action, and pleasing. The rocks function as I had envisioned.

The birds bathe every day it is not pouring rain, sometimes four birds at a time. They sip, flutter, shake, dip their heads, shake some more. Gold finches, house finches with their bright red heads, robins, doves, and other winged friends seem to really enjoy the water. Little birdie squabbles arise, but mostly, they share the bath pretty well. The hummers don’t seem to bathe, but they do come to the feeder nearby. I can see this display from my reading chair in the living room about twenty feet away. More simple pleasure. Perhaps life is not quite as flat as I had labelled it.

© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2012