compelled to hunker

Each morning I sniff the air when I first step outside, pulling for some hint about the day. Yesterday’s hint was about saturation. Today’s hint came from the wind and has to do with compulsion.

In recent days I’ve felt compelled to hunker. It is an elemental urge. The season gets into me and I heed its rhythms. I heed the priority of the trees, tending to their roots. And I note the wind making its rounds here at the end of the block where I live. It nudges limbs, tussles downed leaves, and laps at the pools of water from yesterday’s rain. Standing in the corner of my yard, at the end of the street, I feel part of a dynamic stillness.

That’s where I am today, drawn close to home and also feeling stirred to move around. Action and contemplation. It can be both.

Several sources that I find insightful insist on both. Absolutizing one over the other puts me out of balance. Heeding the wisdom of the roots and the wind on the same day keeps me true.