I live in a deciduous forest, meaning I am surrounded by hardwoods. I pretend I am in a treehouse when I sit on my porch. To sit among the trees transports my imagination. When the wind is blowing, the leaves sway. The rays of sunlight filter through the leaves creating dancing light. The stronger the wind the more passionate the dance. Similar to when light refracts off of a diamond and little shiny rainbows appear out of nowhere, the bands of dancing light surround me. The light and shadows mingle with the effect of a mirror ball at a skating rink. Only I don’t have to move from my spot. The light circles me, not the other way around.

My grandson, Shepherd, was here this past weekend with his beginning baby crawls on the kitchen floor. One morning, he wiggled his way to a pool of dancing light. He used his newly developing fine motor skills to try to pick it up. He grabbed for it several times before he realized it wasn’t pick-up-able. He followed the path with his eyes to where it originated, outside, coming through the windows. Then he laid his head down in the midst of the puddle of light. He submitted to the dance and let the light use him as a stage. He gave it his attention as the dappled rays hovered over and around him.

You can learn a lot from a baby. They drink in their surroundings. Everything is new to them. They are little sponges. Somewhere along the way, as we grow up, we lose the curiosity and wonder at the little things in life. We walk right by the dancing light and into our days. We allow stress to overshadow the shadows playing with the light.

Today, taking my cue from Shep, I am sitting, watching what I normally take for granted. He reminded me to pay attention. And so, I am on the porch…the wind kisses my cheeks good morning. It invites me to take my place for the show. I oblige. I breathe deeply of the circulating air. Cool. Fresh. The trees celebrate my stillness by waving their arms like football fans in the fall. Leaves twirl and pirouette. They flutter and flourish. They splash the light in tender forms all over my porch and into the house. Light pools on the floors and dances on the tables.

I simply sit and observe. My eyes feast on the treat. My ears perk up as the birds join in the performance. However, the wind and her movement are centerstage in this spectacle. Without her, the light would not be dancing. All around, everywhere I can see with my eyes, is covered with moving light that stirs my soul. Regular items such as chairs and porch rails become a part of the production. I, too, am covered in light which dances over me. I see it on my hands as I type and my screen becomes part of the whole. The dogs are included as well, with spatters of sun dancing on their fur as they sleep.

It is peaceful. My mind rests. This dance puts me squarely in this moment. Not anxious about all the worrying things in my world. I am just here with the light…dancing.