Pat Bean's blog

While it wasn't exactly in the middle of Mother Nature's bounties, I sat for a while on this bench beside the Lake Erie harbor at the Amherstburg Navy Yard in Canada. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 The range of what we think and do is limited by what we fail to notice. And, because we fail to notice that we fail to notice, there is little we can do to change until we notice how our failing to notice shapes our thoughts and deeds.” — R.D. Laing

Travels with Maggie

Somewhere I read, many years ago and I can’t recall the author, that if one truly wanted to observe nature they should find a quiet place in the midst of it and sit very still for at least half an hour.

I thought that was a very good idea, but until I took up birdwatching my attention span never lasted much longer than five minutes. Now it’s up to 10 minutes.

A quiet sit on this rustic bench in the front yard of my son's Central Texas home is almost always a birdy one, with colorful cardinals, goldfinches, mockingbirds and blue jays making appearances. -- Photo by Pat Bean

But occasionally I do force myself to sit still for the required 30 minutes and am always amazed with the benefits.

The birds that whisked away at the sound of my footsteps usually come back and go about their business of building a nest, feeding their young or simply eating the seeds out of a tall sunflower. American goldfinch love to do this and its delightful to watch as they hang upside down on a stem that’s bent with their almost weightless bodies.

As the world slows and my heartbeat follows, I begin to notice a line of ants carrying leaf matter into their nest, or bees and butterflies flitting from flower to flower as they go about feeding and pollinating.

Several times, when I’ve been sitting very still, deer, rabbits, squirrels, even once a raccoon, have come into view. And since Maggie’s usually asleep in a spot of shade within minutes of my sitting down, they often linger.

The day I sat on this blue bench at Lake Walcott State Park in Southern Idaho, two deer ambled among the trees off to my right, and a flock of white pelicans flew low over the lake on my left. -- Photo by Pat Bean

When a lake or an ocean shore is part of the view, I become mesmerized by sunlight and shadow reflections, to the point of losing track of time, which for my busy brain is almost a miracle. .

This sitting still in the midst of Mother Nature’s wonders is the only form of meditation that works for me. It’s never failed to leave me more at peace with myself and with the world.

I really should do it more. Perhaps you would like to join me.