Sat out on the porch today pondering on my changing world and watching the sun get covered by thick overcast clouds. The birds were singing happily and the wind chimes were playing a soft winter melody and pow!, Mr. Kestrel snatches a goldfinch in his talons, right off the feeder. This time he sat in my oak tree and ate the little bird. I watched him give the killing bite on the bird’s neck, a few feathers drifted down as he enjoyed his repast. The kestrel is a handsome bird with his rusty red back and blue grey wing feathers. This little male falcon was so pretty, perched on the oak tree limb with his back toward me. I could see his red-brown tail tipped in inkwell black. They have beautiful bright black eyes and a killer hooked beak. Kestrels are compact little killers.

As the clouds kept grabbing hands and gathering together, the air got lots cooler so I went back in the house to the lady den and pondered in my reading chair. I’ve got three feeders close to the windows in the lady den and I enjoyed watching all the birds. Some of the cardinals have the most beautiful salmon colored plumage on their backs. Everyone always talks about the male cardinals, calling them red birds, but the females are just as beautiful in their muted colors. I’ve enjoyed noticing all the differences in females today. We’ve got one young male cardinal, I call him Pinky, he hasn’t grown his crimson feathers yet. If it’s the same one we saw last year, guess he has a pigment problem. His feathers are the strangest color of pink. I looked on some paint charts and the color matches ballet slipper pink. Weird.

The sunset late afternoon was a watercolor banquet for the eyes in colors of mauve, orchid, and magenta. Mother Nature parted the clouds and covered the sunset pageant stage with soft pale magenta brush strokes, darkening the color as the sun stepped on stage dressed in an exquisite evening gown of pink taffy. The evening gown’s ruffled train, embellished with light catching crystals, danced on the horizon and fanned the brush strokes of mauve and orchid watercolors across the whole horizon. So beautiful as all the soft shades melted together and faded into the day’s twilight.

Just made that up…could not even see a peep of the sunset tonight for the heavy cloud cover. I know though, the ever faithful Father Sky did his best to wake up the first quarter moon and all his diamond ladies from their peaceful slumber, but they, too, were bundled up tightly in their cozy cloud covers. The day ended quietly and the night waked softly.

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away,” — Unknown. We measure our life by the many moments that “take our breath away.” Sometimes we’re surprised by these moments, sometimes we’re saddened by these moments. I’ve been trying to think of something that took my breath away. I’ve had my breath taken away by the passion of love and by the pain of tragedy.

The first time I heard my first child say mama, was a breath taking movement. A beautiful sunset and bird watching moments have taken my breath. When I saw a perfect angel feather cloud, huge in the sky, that feather took my breath away. Chief told me years after the births of our children, the first time he had a conversation with me, he knew he wanted me to be the mother of his children. Those words took my breath away.

I’ve said this many times but life really is fleeting and if we don’t slow down and take time to “smell the roses,” the roses will be in a funeral spray on top of our coffins. These moments that take our breath away don’t come frequently. And we miss them in the fast paced turning of the Earth’s axis. We work, work, work to take care of our families while dreaming of retirement, of slow days traveling, playing golf, turkey hunting, visiting the grandchildren.… When we get to the point of retirement, our children are grown and gone and now busy with their families and their lives. We’ve sacrificed so many moments with our families, working and trying to provide everything for them, when all they really needed or wanted was our undivided attention and our love.

I think that’s all us old folks want, undivided attention and love from our grown children, our grandchildren, our families and friends, to be validated as a member of their families, participating in their lives and the lives of their children. My children and grandchildren always make me feel a part of their lives and they love me unconditionally. When they all call me Patty, it takes my breath away!

“Sometimes it’s the same moments that take your breath away that breathe purpose and love back into your life.” ― Steve Maraboli.