A Simple Miracle

Walking on water is not the miracle; the miracle is walking on Earth. While walking in the rain to take my sister's dog, whom I am dog sitting, back to his home. I felt the raindrops gently falling on my head and face. I felt the wind gently lifting the silver strands of my hair. I easily strode through potholes in the road filled with cool water from the morning showers. I saw the beauty of the dark, gray, skeletal forms of winter's trees against the pale gray of December's rainy day. I heard the flapping of wings as birds sought shelter in the boughs of nearby cedars. I sensed my breath as it easily flowed in and out rejuvenating my body. With each inhalation, I was granted the added bonus of the freshness of the air, having been washed by the shower, and dried by the gentle gusts of a southerly wind.

Once back at my house, as I climbed with ease the steps that lead me home, I entered my "temple" and with the enrichment from my short morning walk in winter's delightful day, I reflected upon the miracle of walking upon Mother Earth and the simple abundance of beauty that is my life. For this miracle, I am grateful.