Cormorants are such interesting birds.
Kinda a raven, kinda a duck, but they are definitely their own unique being.
Flying, swimming, jockeying for the best spots on the rocks, all day long I can see them dive in to fish and then sit on the rocks patiently, drying their wings in the air as they survey the scene in front of them.
Life is so busy now. So many responsibilities and so many projects.
Definitely not complaining, just observant of the varied pace that life takes. Just a month ago, I was in a non-doing space, and now, so much doing!
The truth is… I’m still not really “doing” anything. That is, unless I completely forget my Self.
Life unfolds as it does, and we experience it. Some days are busy and some are quiet, but through it all a through line appears.
A place of unfolding.
A place of the quiet within the busy.
A place of peace within the fears and the chaos and the drama.
Today, I had some things arise that threw into question some of my “big plans.”
I could get upset.
I could stress out.
But instead, I went for a walk and then sat on my patio and watched this cormorant dry his wings.
Listening to the cackling ducks nearby.
Turning our heads at the same time to watch the geese fly overhead and then splash land into the river.
And drying my wings in the cool breeze until the unfolding becomes clearer, and it’s time to “do” again.
Minding the Story 