It's a half-mile walk to the stone circle I constructed on a clifftop overlooking Lake Havasu. A simple seasonal calendar, the sun rises through the east-facing opening on winter solstice morn. I note the sun's journey north with every morning visit.
I enter this circle to stretch and breathe my life into the day. Yoga. Pilates. Leftover movements from high school gym class. I end with a salutation to the four directions; a prayer of thanks for another day...that I might be worthy of the gift.
This morn as I arrived a pair of Red-tailed Hawks rose from water's edge below. I took a seat on a boulder and watched as they circled over water and desert hills, the male calling over and over as he followed the female's floating lust. Earlier this week I heard the first sex-filled coo of the roadrunner.
This awakening has caught me off guard. My soul's still drowsy, luxuriating within winter's edgy cloak. She prefers the pre-mate plumage of tawny finches who frequent the thistle feeder; the lone Abert's Towhee that scratches the ground for seed.
An Anna's hummingbird perches on a dead branch of a fuchsia bougainvillea not ten feet away. She stretches her neck and moves her head as if to sniff the air for...well, the purple-throated irridescent male that just now landed mid-way between she and I.
Soulwork necessities: be in a landscape that feeds the spirit. Begin the day with humble thanks. Compose a 5-10 minute regimen (that's all it takes!) of stretches that fit your body's needs and do them every day. For me that's the back, neck, legs and abdomen. Especially the abdomen. Chi lives there~~~keep it strong.
Sit with hummers. Watch the California quail scatter, the goldfinch turn to neon- lemon yellow one feather at a time.
Make a stone circle.