From a park bench, beneath a canopy of trees, I hear the distant sound of an ambulance siren and birds chirping in their various “dialects.” A middle-aged couple walks by, heads down, as if I am invisible.
Yellow leaves pirouette six feet above my head onto the pages of my journal. Tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tic-tic-tic . . . tic-tic-tic . . . raindrops begin to fall, and before I can put my pen and journal inside my bag, the rain ceases.
Pulling out a cardigan, I wrap it around my shoulders, when a cool breeze chills and blows hair into my face. The sun slowly shifts, creating shadows, a signpost in nature that pulls my mind back to obligation.
Fall has finally arrived here in Austin, Texas where balmy sandal weather has overextended her welcome. I’ve spent the last two days speaking, hugging friends, and signing books on a Turquoise Table while acorns hail from the heavens.
Today, as I fly to North Carolina in preparation for Nest Fest, I’m over at Emily Freeman’s sharing about the usefulness of idleness, solitude, and daydreaming. I’ll be practicing a little of all of them at a high altitude. Join us here. Follow me on Instagram for pics throughout the book tour for Rhythms of Rest.