• coffee life,  Humor,  musings

    The Craft

    The craft of enhancing the morning drip coffee is an amazing thing to watch. The craft is a very important ritual for people as they bring perfection to their cup of coffee. (Of course this only applies to those who do not drink their coffee black.)

    Jeff pouring his coffee

    I watch the scientist in them add just the correct amount of sugar, cream, and honey. Then it must be precisely stirred, clockwise or counterclockwise or both and how many turns. Once that perfect chemical formula is attained, by observation or tasting, they add a sleeve to the cup and top it off with a lid. Interestingly some master this craft when not yet fully awake, or talking on their phone or chatting with their friend, who’s waiting their turn at their craft. Amusingly, some seem to even be mumbling, as if talking themselves through the process, or maybe offering up a pray. I often wonder, once they exit the door, do they remember any of the craft they have just been involved in? And, did they know I was watching?

  • clouds,  landscape,  poems

    One story at a time…

    All that we are is story. From the moment we are born to the time we continue on our spirit journey, we are involved in the creation of the story of our time here. It is what we arrive with. It is all we leave behind. We are not the things we accumulate. We are not the things we deem important. We are story. All of us. What comes to matter then is the creation of the best possible story we can while we’re here; you, me, us, together. When we can do that and we take the time to share those stories with each other, we get bigger inside, we see each other, we recognize our kinship – we change the world, one story at a time…

    Richard Wagamese
  • clouds,  horizons,  landscape,  poems

    Touch My Soul

    Let love lead your soul
    make it a place to retire to,
    a kind of cave, a retreat
    for the deep core of being.

    Rumi

    The leaves have been changing colors the past couple weeks around my condo. One tree has dropped most of its leaves. However, the greens are vibrant at Spring Creek Park with lush foliage in the trees and a well manicured lawn. I plopped myself on one of the park benches and watched the clouds continuously reshape themselves. Even though these clouds provided rain in the mountains, we did not get any. But, even without the rain, one of their tasks was to touch my soul.

  • flowers,  poems,  quotes

    Let me linger…

    A busy bee and daisies

    It may be a product of getting older
    But sometimes I want to stop time.

    I want to make the sunsets last just a little longer.
    I want the quiet mornings to go on and on

    The laughter at the dinner table
    To stretch out into a whole evening
    The beauty of the clouds as they race
    Across the valley to never end.

    It is not that I want to freeze reality, just slow it down.
    I want life to move as slowly as I do.
    For I have learned that life moves far too fast as it is.
    It is a joy that endures but briefly
    Made of moments that pass as quickly as hummingbirds.

    Let me linger in the love I feel.
    Let me see the light for as long as I can.

    Steven Charleston, Spirit Wheel

    I stopped on my ride this evening because these daisies caught my eye. However, I was not the only one interested in the daisies as this bee busily flitted from flower to flower. So busy in fact, I never got a good infocus shot. Oh well. I watched and lingered and loved the moment.

  • poems,  poetry,  shadows

    Keeping my eyes open

    Each day offers moments enticing me to keep my eyes
    open and aware of the world around me.

    No matter how familiar the world may appear to my senses
    may these brief moments surprise me as never before.

    Oh, to see the sacredness, simplicity, and beauty
    of shadows spreading across on my bedroom wall.

    mws
  • blogging,  clouds,  journaling

    Then…

    Scattered Clouds

    I sit up on my porch to journal as the sun and a blue sky of scattered clouds give way to predominate gray clouds. Then… a trash truck picks up one of the dumpsters and loudly shakes its contents into its hungry jaws; a dog barks it’s lonely plea for attention but their pleas are ignored, so it barks louder; a car engine starts up then is quickly overpowered by the blast of an earth shattering stereo, silence seems impossible; a screaming ambulance rushes by as it hurries to the aid of someone in need, maybe it’s silence they need; a demon possessed leaf blower starts up, eager to join in on the noise pollution parade. I find myself annoyed. I let out a silent sigh and begin taking much needed breaths. Eventually, a moment of external silence arrives, the gray clouds move on and in this silence words begin to flow. Then…