By Lee Felten
Smiling into tired eyes a cup of tea is passed. It appears that something has gone wrong, and yet there are no words to convey just what that might be. Just the silence of two who have found that sometimes words are unnecessary, that words will come on their own when it is time, that nothing need be forced.
Sitting in the backyard tea cups are set aside, as one smiles into the breeze and the other looks upon that smile in wonder. A deep sigh as a hand is raised and the invisible breeze plays between outstretched fingers.
Sensing the wondering eyes, the glance is returned, a smile still upon the face, but the eyes much more direct now. Hand still held aloft turning this way and that as the breeze gently tickles the palm, the inner wrist, raising goose-bumps.
A quiet little laugh as fingers suddenly close in on themselves, fingertips pressing firmly into the palm.
Quizzical look as a question is asked. “Do you think I caught it?”
“Caught what?” is the reply.
Opening of the hand, held out as in offering, “The wind of course.”
Laughter now in the eyes that had looked so tired. “You can’t catch the wind.”
Looking away and leaning over a dandelion blossom, “And why can’t I?”
A bit more seriously the reply comes, “There is nothing to catch.”
Face turning up from the dandelion, “If you know that, then why do you look so tired my friend?”
How often do we find ourselves hurrying through our day trying to catch something that is elusive to us? We tell ourselves that if only this happens we will be ok, that if only that happens things will even themselves out and we can finally sit back and relax.
We wear ourselves out trying to catch something that is as unobtainable as the wind, when all along it is flowing, ebbing, and rising all around us. We get so caught up in our endeavours that we miss the gentle tickling on our palms.