The Muse and Views

It’s a rare, rainy October night. Usually by now, there’s snow covering the ground, no rain drops falling against my window in a steady stream. It’s about the time of night, although not the time of year, when I would wake up to the sound of big, wet rain drops hitting the eaves trough outside my window. I would lay there for a few moments, just listening, and then I would grab a blanket and head upstairs and out the backdoor. I loved watching for lightning and listening to the rain with my Dad. He was usually already out there.

We didn’t usually say anything, my Dad has never been much of a talker. But we would sit and listen, for what felt like hours at a time. I found so much peace in those moments… such rare, wonderful moments.

It’s that same feeling of inner peace and contentment that I feel now, wrapped in the silent blanket that the wee hours bring. I always find inspiration in these moments, and the memory of listening to the rain with my dad always finds its way in too.

He’s part of what inspires me. His caring strength, and quiet nature have taught me to find a different kind of appreciation in observing the details, and keeping them as they are, the way nature intended, following the natural flow and evolution of what’s come before them.

That, I would say, is one of the corner stones by which I live my life, by finding joy and beauty in the details. My Dad has taught me to take a step back when nobody else thinks to, to contemplate what’s in front of me and not take it for granted. And to always find a way back to myself, back to where I’m peaceful.

It all makes a neat little circle. Observing the details, finding rare moments, being at peace.

So if you ever find yourself caught up in something, look around you, is anyone else paying attention? Maybe you’ll find a little piece of the world to capture as well, a piece that’s just for you. Your anchor to a moment of inspiration, or calm. Take a look. See what you find.