The gentile rain fell quietly as I sat on the porch with Birchy, the dog. Hawk was quiet, and the most apparent noise was Cricket, still trying to chirp the morning Sun through the clouds. Suddenly, Birchy stood up and barked. At the same time, something crashed through the underbrush to the North of the cabin. Whoever it was moved quickly to the Northeast and into the deeper woods. All I saw was a brief flash through the thick branches.
This gets me thinking about how things can seem to be one way, then suddenly change because of something I didn't notice. Was whoever was there trying to teach me to pay better attention, or is it that I was teaching them to be more aware?
Today, I will be remembering that sometimes the lessons aren't for me, and that sometimes I am the teacher and I don't even know it.