A few days ago, I wrote about our morning walk after the rain and finding a surprise — rocks that someone had gathered and placed in the shape of a crosses upon two boulders. I looked at that duet of rockscapes as a message and started to ponder what kind of messages I leave. Oh, I leave messages. We all do. And someone is always watching and receiving them.
I have worked to be more intentional with my messages the past few days – you know those messages you leave on someone’s voice mail or what you might say at the end of a conversation. I’ve even written two notes that I think will surprise a couple of people. I wish I could tell you that I’ll keep this practice up, but life gets a bit crowded at times. That means pushing and shoving of sorts, and I know I must work so that these practices don’t get shoved right off my radar.
This morning I thought I’d try an experiment. I wrote a note on heavy paper with the intention of leaving it somewhere on the path we walk. I knew I would have to secure it somehow and place it where it could be seen. I wasn’t about to take a hammer and nail. Ah . . . a clothes pin. How long has it been since you searched your laundry room for a clothes pin? That took almost as long as searching for unmatched socks, but I was determined. Note, clothes pin, and walking stick — I was ready to go.
Oh, I’m aware the wind might blow it away or an axis deer might have it for his midmorning snack, but I’ll be up early to see if it’s still there tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be fun if someone answered it and we could start a morning conversation with notes pinned to cedar trees? That could lead to a whole different kind of adventure, sort of like leaving a message in a bottle.
I don’t want to think that no one would read the message, so I’m sharing it with you. Take it to heart and pass it along. Stay tuned . . . and happy walking.