A white cap of snow covers the head of the Buddha statue in the side yard of my Conshohocken home. Snow blankets his shoulders, his lap and that part of his robe that crosses his chest from the top left shoulder to the mid section of the belly on the right. His arms, partial chest and knee caps remain bare and uncovered by the snow — as if to dramatically challenge the white fluffy stuff to hide the bold charcoal black statue parts beneath.
I see the face of the statue staring forward and barely make out what I call a “hidden smile,” as well as the long, almost exaggerated elongated ears. Can’t make out the features around the eyes, nose and mouth. Heavy snow is falling, preventing a clear vision outside.
The 18-inch statue rests on a wooden “hutch” where I store black sunflower seeds, as well as wild bird seed in individual plastic containers that once held cat litter. Great containers, but you can’t let them exposed to the elements. Squirrels have chewed through plastic lids of two of them I left outside.
Some 20 birds compete for seeds on the hard grass beneath branches of a “plum” tree in the yard. Another 10 sparrows flutter from tree branches sparring among themselves to get to the four openings in a bird feeder half full with seed.
“Look at that bird,” I say to my Self as one flies closer to the house and I see the creature come within feet of where I am standing inside the dining room. The bird lands on the side of a wire cage. Trying to find food, but appearing as if he, the bird, was also trying to say hello to the “outdoor pet” housed in the cage beneath the bay window: the white rabbit.
Yes, we “keep” a rabbit in our yard. I call him “Cwazy,” as in the Elmer Fudd nickname for Bugs Bunny. “You Cwazy Wabbit!” This will be his second winter in our Pennsylvania home some 15 miles outside of Philadelphia.
The rabbit wants out and chews at the metal around him. He “thumps” at a squirrel that scampered beneath the elevated cage searching for food. Is Cwazy trying to “scare” away the squirrel? Or is he simply “scared” of the critter that snuck up to inches of his domain without being seen?
It’s a winter wonderland here on the East Coast of the USA. What a way to welcome the winter solstice. Snow covering everything, thereby altering our entire view of the land outside of our houses, our selves. It makes you stop you’re regular routine; demands that you take notice of nature and life around you.
Makes me drawn to the immediate present with no thoughts of a yesterday or the tomorrow.
Wish I could do that every morning I greet a new day. Be in the present. With the “present” Mother Nature provides me each day if I simply look out my window and watch it manifest.