joy is going for a walk

"Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light."
— Mary Oliver

I’ve been going for walks lately, in the evenings. I’m convinced that dusk is some sort of magical time on this mountain. These walks are like a daily dose of awe and gratitude. Yesterday everything lay wet and whispering from the rain, glittering in the light of the rising moon. How comforting it felt to watch a cool mist as it wrapped itself around these mountains. We are neighbors with the clouds. I sat by the stream that runs under the road and listened to the flow of the night around me. The noise of it alone, the quiet, the chirps and whistles, the sighs of the setting sun, is enough to make me breathe a little deeper. What is it about this mountain that so enchants me, that sets my heart on fire and makes me swoon? I spend most of my walk in utter disbelief that I am actually here, experiencing this, like the shock and awe we feel in the first weeks of new love. How did I get so lucky to find this? Dusk falls and the moon rises behind the mountaintop. Every tree top, every bush and blade of grass shimmering, illuminated by fireflies doing their nightly dance. I am surrounded. A single step off the road and I’m sure they would cover me and carry me off. The darkness sparkles with their electricity and all around is a raw beauty that stops me in my steps. Tonight the moon, the mountains, the fading light of day and the glow of stars and fireflies split me open. I walked nearly breathless, mouth hanging open in awe, gasping and sighing at the mystery and wonder of it. I become unhinged in the presence of the Universe like this and I can’t help but utter “thank you thank you thank you” to whatever might be listening.