Bleak yet peaceful days filled with early spring flowers and chilled air are unlike any other type of day and have a way of stilling even the most restless hearts. They have a timeless wonder about them and while most people seek shelter in cozy houses, there are a few who find themselves wrapped in the calming beauty of the outside world.
While the world reels with chaos and fear, I have been able to find a subtle peace in the stillness of the outside world. The last few days have been incredibly grey and forlorn, the rays of the radiant sunlight hiding behind thick grey clouds that mask the world in beautiful gloom. Today I found myself wandering aimlessly outdoors breathing in the scent of the earth that smells slightly of growth and rebirth.
For as long as I can remember, I have always loved overcast days above any other kind. They may be disliked by the general person, but to me they hold a beauty that no sunny day could ever imagine possessing. With a pounding headache that soon faded into the background of my mind, I traversed my backyard without noticing anything.
I didn’t want to focus on the world around me, I wanted to be back inside working on an image or more realistically scrolling through social media. But I eventually looked up and found myself staring into a thicket of wisteria, which was easily to see through since most of the world is still hibernating.
Birds, cardinals mostly, flew through these bushes. Their wings making such a loud and almost buzz like sound. I questioned how they were able to fly through a tangled mess and proceeded to wish I had wings like them. Then I could fly among the grey clouds instead of looking at them from below. The red feathers stood out against the grey world and seemed vibrant compared to everything else.
Pale white flowers caught my attention and they were so easy to marvel at. March is not often the Spring month where I am at and it seems to early to have so many wild flowers blooming throughout the woods behind my house. They dainty beauty has a way of captivating one’s heart and reminding us of how fragile everything truly is. This moment, the flowers, even us. Everything is so fragile and in that fragility there is endless beauty.
Flowers called to me and I began collecting the ones that called. The first dandelion of the season, little periwinkle stars, a dried daffodil, and the brilliant yellow flowers from a forsythia bush. My lungs pulled in the fresh spring air as my ink stained finger tips collected a hand full of flowers and maybe one pinecone.
In the distance I heard the random sound of a basketball hitting the pavement, a strange sound in the area I live considering we live along side a rather busy road. However, along came a boy in a knee brace, walking down the road with his basketball completely unaware of my presence. Following ever so slightly from a far distance I watched him wander down the world, the only soul in the world it seemed besides mine.
He too seemed to have found the beauty in an overcast day amongst the panic and hysteria of the modern world. Birds sang in the trees all around us and I observed unnoticed as he slowly disappeared most likely on his way home to a warm dinner with family. Two strangers alone in a beautiful world with nothing but the flowers and the birds to witness their existence.
There’s something so poetic about an overcast day spent picking early spring flowers in the crisp air while having the stillness interrupted by an unknown boy oblivious to the world. There’s something so beautiful in an unwitnessed moment without any proof of existence when the world world disappears for the individual who simply wanders out, leaving behind the chaos.
Until Next Time,