the moment for oneself

Swallows loudly plan their day on the wires, a white wagtail surveys the surrounding from one of the moss covered rocks in the garden, and two redstarts take turns flying from the sauna roof to the fence to the trees, Other birds - the song thrushs, the blue tits, the warblers and chiffchaffs make their presence known with chirping and tweeting from the lilacs and pines and birches and maples. The crows and the seagulls are quiet for now, and I am thankful for that. On the background the sea slowly rolls over the rocks on the shore. I stand in our garden - a quilt of soft mowed grass, many well tended flowerbeds, several vegetable patches; areas of ferns, wild grass and wild flowers; ancient rocks and boulders here and there; and the tall trees and bushes forming a green wall around us. I am in a middle of a village but it feels as if I am in the wild. I am with three generations of ten lovely family members but it feels as if I am the only person in the whole wide world. I know this moment will last only for a short time before a dog will bark somewhere, or a car will start, or worse, a lawn mower, and soon people will be out and about with their chatter and calling. But for this one solitude moment I am ageless and free and peaceful, no wants, no worries, one with the nature, my roots in the ground and branches stretching to the sky, the sun caressing me softly.