My online journal sharing interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Before we can be poets, we must practice: imitation is a very good way of investigating the real thing.
Mary Oliver
I don’t know about you but this lifesize sculpture at the Benson Sculpture Garden looks like the real thing. Please checkout the link about the gardens. There are presently 178 sculptures in this garden. I could spend hours there. My assumption is these artists has been practicing for quite some time.
There is a place where the town ends,
Mary Oliver, Boundaries from her book Red Bird
and the fields begin.
It’s not marked but the feet know it,
also the heart that is longing for refreshment
and, equally, for repose.
I enjoy my little excursions to what Mary calls in her poem a place where town ends. I am also aware I frequent them more often. I’m seldom conscious of when I cross that unmarked line and things change. But, I do feel it in my body as it gradually relaxes. I believe nature is lovingly offering me (and all of us) a place of rest and tranquility within her embrace. What I see, hear, smell, and feel are enhanced. I gently find myself feeling a part of nature. Even refreshed!