March 11, 2015
(This is part of a 365 project during my 70th year where I write and illustrate a blog on each day's gift.)
I was alone in the park this morning. In the background, hundreds of geese conversed, all talking at the same time. In front of me, the Chesapeake Bay stretched out, presenting an icy sampler of geometric shapes. Fog muted the colors and outlines of this winter scene. This moment held the geese, a white patchwork quilt and me.
On an ice floe, I noticed one lone goose sounding a plaintive call. Was this sound born of nature’s habit or an avian need? Had the bird become separated from its gaggle? Soon a group of geese gathered near but separate from the lone honker. All of them put up a racket, seeming to negotiate with one another, the ayes and nays creating cacophony. Maybe they were taking a consensus on whether or not to include the loner. If so, the answer must have been yes because not long after that, they all flew off together into the dissipating fog. By tomorrow all the icy pieces will have disappeared from sight and melded with the Bay.
My life is like a patchwork quilt with bits from different parts of my world—past and present. The present especially is broken into so many pieces, one as beautiful as the next: family, friends, art, social, solitude, creativity… Often when I go out, someone familiar will approach me. “Bonnie! It’s good to see you!” I then search my brain trying to remember which patch of my life they are from.
At times like this, the pieces are separated. Other times they coalesce. I appreciate each piece alone as well as all merged as a larger view of life. The patchwork quilt is good.
My gift today is an icy patchwork quilt.
>Day 93 Mystery Package
You can read my other posts on this project here: