When Droplets Fall - new year musings

On a recent walk, I was halted by the beauty of these exquisite water droplets, all at once clinging and falling from the deep crimson winter berries and branches. I was taken too by the berries, by how their December skin glistened and shone, a brilliant beacon against the winter scape, a vital calling card for birds and deer, nature’s candy on a stick. As I paused by the side of the road, my dog panting by my side, I marveled how the filtered sun still illuminated the soft curves, giving them life even in the low, afternoon light. And I was taken by the way each droplet hung, defying gravity in its time, each a different shape and size, offering dimension and depth, briefly encapsulating its environment as if captured in a crystal ball, turning the outward reflection upside down and backwards; the vision an interpretation of input.

In time, on its own or by some external source, each droplet will fall, hitting perhaps another branch or making its way to the earth to take on new purpose. The berries and branches will not ache the loss of the droplets. The droplets will not lament the branch from which they once clung. Theirs is a temporary symbiosis along a natural path — progression.

More than in year’s past, this year we’ve had to individually and collectively shift, re-evaluate, come together, fall apart — our branches have been shaken, and many droplets, ready or not, have fallen. We’ve been forced to stop, to pause, to reassess. As we prepare to drop 2020, to release its many alterations and devastations, we also take in its many births, glories, reconciliations; not a silver lining bypass, but an honest reckoning.

As you close out this year, what fell without warning or dropped in due time? Which droplets grew new life or gave birth to another? And as you breathe in the present moment, what hangs heavy with the pull of gravity, ready to be released? And as you project forward, which droplets turn your visions upside down? To which do you cling, knowing if you bump up or try to touch, will plummet or fall apart? And if so, what new growth will emerge?

In this New Year, may you release that which no longer serves you. May you be rich with growth and abundance as you progress along your natural path — allowing the light to illuminate and the droplets to fall.

Julie Lear

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