My online journal sharing interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Milo is one of the regulars at Mugs who brings his human to the coffee shop for their caffeine fix and to show off Milo. He is one of the best behaved dogs you’ll ever meet. Every once in awhile I see him get one of those pupcups, which is a small cup filled with whip cream. I’ve never heard him bark either. Anyway, meet Milo and have a great week!
The material came bubbling up inside like a geyser or an oil gusher. It streamed up of its own accord, down my arm and out of my fountain pen in a torrent of six thousand words a day.
C. S. Forester
This is my new Pilot Custom 823 fountain pen. It has a translucent clear cap and barrel which shows the visible ink supply. I have it filled with Namiki Blue ink. It also has a 14k gold nib. My first one I purchased in February is a translucent Amber color. Probably the nicest writing experiences for me, ever. Thus the reason I have two now. I do not expect a torrent of six thousand words a day but at least a page or two in my journal. And, because it is a nice experience I’m more prone to pick it up. Happy World Chocolate Day!
Usually when you listen to some statement, you hear it as a kind of echo of yourself. You are actually listening to your own opinion. If it agrees with your opinion, you may accept it, but if it does not, you will reject it or you may not really hear It. That is one danger when you listen to someone.
Shunryu Suzuki: Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind
Happy 4th.
Form is certainty. All nature knows this, and we have no greater adviser. Clouds have forms, porous and shape-shifting, bumptious, fleecy. They are what clouds need to be, to be clouds. See a flock of them come, on the sled of the wind, all kneeling above the blue sea….How can we ever stop looking? How can we ever turn away?
Mary Oliver, Upstream
Canada geese usually molt, or shed their flight feathers, from late June to early July, as a part of their preparation for migration. During molting, adult geese are unable to fly for 20–40 days while their new feathers grow in. This keeps them on the ground, which can lead to increased sightings of geese and their young walking across roads. It’s not unusual to see traffic stopped in the road, some drivers honking, while the geese meander across the road. Those drivers are not aware that their honking only disturbs me 🤨 and not the geese.
The geese that didn’t breed during the season typically molt first, followed by adults with young right before their babies get their first flight feathers. Growing these new feathers is very energy intensive, so geese are hungrier than usual during this time. This means there’s gonna be more poop, everywhere! We call our daily walks at this time of season, the Goose Poop Boogie. So for the past several weeks, I’ve seen several groups of 15 to 30 geese, laying on the ground (as in the above image), eating and pooping at the same time. It does make for some easy photographs but ya gotta watch where your step’n. Happy July 1st!!
A friend shared with me that her life was quiet and mundane. Yet, I see her life as full, vibrant, and rich, anything but mundane. She was also using mundane in comparison to what her life used to be like. I imagine most of us can relate to her, especially after retirement. However, the word stirred my thinker into spending some time delving into the word “mundane.” It seems to have a strong negative connotation in our culture. The word mundane comes originally from the Latin “mundus”, meaning ordinary and worldly as opposed to spiritual, and has been in use in English since the 15th century. The dictionary defines “mundane”: as lacking interest or excitement; dull; common; ordinary; banal; unimaginative and therefore not interesting. Quite a negative list!
A mind full of preconceived ideas, subjective intentions, or habits is not open to things as they are.
Shunryu Suzuki
At this time in my life I am seeing mundane with a bit wider lens. My mundane life, as some would define it, is more about being comfortable with life as it simply is, living life at a slower pace. It’s being comfortable with who I am at this moment and who I’m becoming. My life does not need stimulated by externals such as work schedules, an ever growing to-do list, comparing with the neighbors, accumulating stuff and alcohol or drugs.
I have found nature to be a wonderful teacher in living life. Seems the dandelion is content with being a dandelion, the mushroom is content with being a mushroom. I am content with who I am, living in the present moment, even if it seems mundane to others.
Annie Dillard wrote that “how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” I do not consider my life to be boring, dull or mundane. Although it may be to others. So, for me I fill my days with prayer, meditation, journaling, photography, time in nature, reading, blogging, coffee life, relationships, washing dishes, and cleaning the toilet. And, there’s no rush for any of that. I guess you can call it a Mundane Lifestyle.
It was about 8:45 am when I left the coffee shop. But I again avoided going home and found myself at Pineridge Natural area. I sat on the bench with my journal and pen looking out over the meadow. The cloudless blue sky allows the mid morning sun to warm my body. Deep within me I know I come here because of the impact nature has on me. I take in the sights, the sounds, the smells that are so different from what I experience at home.
I also come here because there is an abundance of songbirds in this area as they avoid the intrusion of man’s repulsive machines and smells. And as I journal, I see and hear Goldfinches, Bullock’s Orioles, Western Kingbirds, Mourning Doves, Red Winged Blackbirds, Flickers, Bluejays, Chickadees, Robins, and Sparrows. If they are not singing they are entertaining me with their acrobatics. And of course, my favorite is the Western Meadowlark, who I never hear at my condo. All the crosstalk may sound like gibberish to some but it’s music to my ears. I watch two flotillas of White Pelicans drift along the shores of Dixon Reservoir. One on the north end and one on the south end. I hear a Great Blue Heron croaking, but I am unable to see them. A red tail hawk effortlessly soars in circles above me on the wind currents, but never flapping their wings. The prairie dogs bark out their warning as dogs lead their owners by a leash along the trail. My soul is refreshed!
And, I’ve not even touched on the evidential beauty of the plants that dance in the wind around me. Wait, are those coneflowers waving at me? Yes, they’re wishing me a happy 74th birthday.