Give it up.
You can’t do it.
You’re wasting your time.
Those were my thoughts as I spent weeks trying to capture an acceptable photo to post on this blog. I confess, out of defeat, in my last three posts I resorted to old photos. It wasn’t that I wasn’t trying. I tried and I tried and I tried, but to no avail, my photos were juvenile. After a three year break from blogging, my photography skills were rusty. I had a few shots, but they were either too dark or too blurry.
This was a crazy idea. Why are you blogging? I grumbled to myself. It’s a farce. You haven’t had a visit from a peacock in years, yet you call yourself, Peacock Prairie?? (A few years back, after a terrifying incident with our dog, the neighboring peacocks stopped visiting.)
One desperate day, I plopped myself into the forsythia blooms. If I don’t get a photo today, I quit! Oh so still, I crouched, my feet and legs going numb from lack of movement in an awkward position, my mind churning with frustration. When a breeze rippled the blooms before me into a golden wave, my thoughts shifted to the beauty. From a nearby wood, the melodious song of a brown thrasher soothed my ruffled spirit, soon dissolving my troubles into joy. At the exact moment of joy, in a fiery flash, this handsome fellow flew in–a cardinal in the forsythia blooms.
And I caught him!
One acceptable photo in one month’s time.
But isn’t he fine! Well worth the struggle. I’m completely smitten. Gazing at his radiant beauty, I admit to wishing I were a bird. Just imagine perching in the blooms of spring. And singing!
After that initial hurdle, a few more photos trickled in, reminding me that I don’t know what I’m capable of until I try. And if the trying brings me joy instead of success, what have I lost?
We all have dreams, those nudgings of the heart that go like this: I wish I could . . .
But we tell ourselves, I could never do that, I don’t have the talent. Or, we try and then get lost in our declared failure.
But sometimes with the trying comes joy, and sometimes out of that joy comes . . .
Once I had a dream–a dream of being a children’s book author. For seven years, as I tapped out my stories, I kept this quote written by Anonymous on my desktop beside me: Today’s mighty oak is just yesterday’s nut that held its ground.
And today . . .
I’m singing in the blooms of spring!
And you’ll never believe how I solved the ‘no peacock’ problem. I was planting seeds in my vegetable garden and this peeked over the top of the corncrib!
He’s back! How did he know I was missing and needing him so? Coincidence? I think not, for he and his friends haven’t missed a day since. I even had a rare visit from a shy peahen! These beautiful birds want to know YOU!
Have a dreamy day, Peacock Prairie people.