Where Peace Lives

When I got up at 5:15 this morning and wandered into the kitchen, I noticed several peony petals had fallen onto the table around their vase. I know what you're thinking, "Will she never shut up about those peonies?" Please bear with me, winter will come soon enough. I knew from past experience they were at That stage. The one where they are letting go and the slightest movement will set off a cascade of petals. I gingerly picked up the vase to move it off the glass table and onto the counter where I could manage it better. As I got to the middle of the kitchen floor, the petals started falling and didn't stop until all had fallen except those little buds at their center. They fell onto my bare feet and all around the floor where I was standing. My first thought was, "Oh no."  My second thought was, "I'm standing on, and surrounded by, pink peony petals. How fine a gift is that?"  The smell was so sweet and they felt so soft against my skin.

As I had lain in bed earlier, I prayed. I prayed for an openness of thought and action that would invite in all the goodness my new place has to offer, that I would be receptive to its gifts and messages, that I could shoulder all the responsibilities inherent in it, and along with the garden, the fruit trees, and the flowers, I would grow, as well.

Yesterday, a deer explored the yard as I quietly watched from my living room window. Perhaps she's the one who bedded down on the lawn, right outside the front door, two nights ago. The impression left in the grass was unmistakable. I've seen it many times before in my life, but it had been a good many years.

This morning, as I write this, with peony petals covering the kitchen floor, peace settles in ...