Something in the Air

If it were colder this morning, I would call it blustery.

But there was just enough warm air riding the wind that I was reminded not of the early winter days up north, but rather the air before a hurricane, the palms fronds whipping around, the leaves in the trees chattering not from cold but fear.

There was something in the air this morning.

Cloudy, dark and windy.  Not a prime picture taking morning.

I came around the church and up behind the labyrinth.  I knew that the mourning doves settle there in the morning.  It seems like at least once a week, as soon as I turn the corner around the church, a flock of doves takes to the air.

But this morning, coming from behind, only a few left.  I took a picture and a step closer and the rest fled.  I could find no other birds, no squirrels, no rabbits, only things scurrying through the brush, not playfully, but with force and determination.

They say that animals always know when a tornado or storm is coming.  Whenever the weather channel reports a tornado warning in the area, I always look to the cat.  "Give me a head's up," I tell him, and he lifts his head, blinks at me twice and then goes back to sleep.

I think all animals, even mere humans, know when storms, both physical, spiritual and emotional are brewing.  Adrenaline flows and we can't imagine why.  We tense up.  We're on alert.  Something is coming.

Then again, sometimes a windy day is just a windy day.

The key is being attuned enough to your own inner spirit--being attuned to those Godly stirrings, to know the difference.