My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, coffee life, spirituality and the mystery of it all.
The sun shines not on us, but in us. The rivers flow not past but through us. Nature was made not just for us, but for itself and its own happiness, and is the very smile of the Divine.
John Muir
It was a rather cool morning at 38 degrees which made my bicycle ride invigorating. But that also makes my Old Town mocha taste that much better. Emily was my barista and did a wonderful job. I’m now sitting at my desk watching a beautiful fall day unfold. We have a blue sky while the sun spreads its light and warmth in my condo. Its rays of light extend across my desk, wall and floor. With that invitation I press the shutter button. Later I will enjoy a bowl of chili soup then meet a friend this afternoon for a walk and talk. I choose to believe, as Muir does, that the Divine does smile in and through us. What a gift it is to smile and share it! I hope you have a wonderful Friday!
Let my gift to the world be my constancy, a devotion to openness, my willingness to be with what is. Let my gift to myself be patience as I tend to what is dense and dark.
The sage would remind us of the following: None should rule who hold themselves above the people. Only by living, working, suffering alongside them can one truly be a leader.
Tao Te Ching (78) By Lao Tzu by: Julian von Bargen, John Braun, Jr., David Warkentin
One of the blessings of growing older for me has been the discovery that mornings are a gift. Since I’m not the party animal of yesteryears, going to bed early and getting up early are the norm. There is something that comes alive in me when I experience the quiet and stillness of this time of the day. I feel more alive than I did when chasing things that I expected to help me be alive. I am aware of the need to participate within the world, to experience it, and receive it as a gift.
It’s interesting to note how clouds are always shifting, changing shapes and colors. It is almost unperceivable to the human eye. Yet, a 28 second exposure lets us know of their gradual changing. Observing that is a gift to me. I am heading out to meet friends who are in town and catch up. Have a wonderful weekend!
It has been a laid back Friday for me. I rode the bicycle to coffee and then relaxed the rest of the day. Relaxing included: lots of reading, writing this short blog post, making tuna salad, took my monthly shower and even put on clean underwear.
Foxtail barley, Bobtail barley, Squirreltail barley, and Intermediate barley
Someone who is filled with ideas, concepts, opinions and convictions cannot be a good host. There is no inner space to listen, no openness to discover the gift of the other. It is not difficult to see how those “who know it all” can kill a conversation and prevent an interchange of ideas. The more mature we become the more we will be able to give up our inclination to grasp, catch, and comprehend the fullness of life and the more we will be ready to let life enter into us.
Henri Nouwen
I don’t know but there sure seems to be too many “who know it all” or worse yet, who “think they know it all.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful if more people listened and were open to discover the gift of the other. Then we all could just call this grass barley. I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Sometimes I can be overwhelmed when too many conversations are going on in my head. These disruptive conversations can be a distraction from the present moment. It reminds me of the intense chatter of the magpie sitting on the fence post near me as I witness the sunrise. It seems their only focus is about grabbing my attention, pulling me away. And, that chatter is so different, an irritating noise, rather than the songs of the heart I hear from the meadowlark or chickadee, which for me is more of an invitation to watch and listen. I am finding it a gift in learning to let go of my mind’s chatter and be more receptive to listening to my inner “silent land.” I hope you have had a wonderful Monday.
Well, the cookies and milk I left out for Santa were gone when I woke up this morning, always a good sign. However, there was no XF8mm lens under the tree so there must have been a screw up somewhere. They must have not gotten my letter. I didn’t think I was that naughty this past year. However, I’ve lived without that lens so far and will continue to live without it.
Overcast skies spurred me to drive to Pineridge Natural Area for possible Christmas morning predawn colors. A mix of rain and snow began and added to the feel of the morning’s cold. I showed up and was not disappointed in nature’s gift of colors. The reflection off Dixon Reservoir was breathtaking and almost caused me to miss the Great Horned Owl perched on the tree. I asked if they were watching the predawn colors or looking for prey or both, but only silence? And, silly me forgot to bring the tripod so this is a handheld image taken at 23mm, 1/10 sec at f8.0 and ISO 12800. I have cropped this image and used denoise in Lightroom to clean up the noise. It works well enough for this blog. I started a crockpot of chili soup after my quiet time and its aroma is filling the house. It’s making me hungry. I hope everyone has a wonderful day in whatever way you celebrate it. Thank you to all who regularly stop by for a visit. I love this world!!! ❤️
“The biggest gift you can give is to be absolutely present, and when you’re worrying about whether you’re hopeful or hopeless or pessimistic or optimistic, who cares? The main thing is that you’re showing up, that you’re here and that you’re finding ever more capacity to love this world because it will not be healed without that. That was what is going to unleash our intelligence and our ingenuity and our solidarity for the healing of our world.”
I leave the chaos to enter the sanctuary of nature, aware this spiritual life is about our experiences.
I listen as the meadowlark sings from their heart, the wind carrying their notes to all who will listen.
I learn, after the last note fades into the past, to stay present, just as the meadowlark, listening to the gift of silence.
mws
I saw two extraordinary events yesterday afternoon at Pineridge Natural Area. While scanning the area with my binoculars I watched a large raptor, which I believe was a Golden Eagle, flying straight at me with a prairie dog in their talons. Golden Eagles are common in the area but this was my first sighting of one. Later, while journaling on the bench about the eagle there was an increase of chatter among the magpies just below me. I looked up from writing and see a bobcat. This was the first one I’ve seen in this area even though there are several in the area. I took no photos, just memories that remain in the present! Enjoy your weekend!
The poet wants to drink from the well of origin; to write the poem that has not yet been written. In order to enter this level of originality, the poet must reach beyond the chorus of chattering voices that people the surface of a culture. Furthermore, the poet must reach deeper inward; go deeper than the private hoard of voices down to the root-voice. It is here that individuality has the taste of danger, vitality and vulnerability. Here the creative has the necessity of inevitability; this is the threshold where imagination engages raw, unformed experience. This is the sense you have when you read a true poem. You know it could not be other than it is. Its self and its form are one.
John O’Donohue
I felt a bit restless and leaning on the discontent side of things Sunday afternoon. I would say it’s what O’Donohue calls “the private hoard of voices” that sometimes hang out in my head. My solution was some journaling time, a walk at Reservoir Ridge Natural Area and connecting to the poem of nature (I like that phrase). After journaling I decided I better get a walk in before it rained as the wind had picked up and darker clouds slowly moved in. Good timing as It began sprinkling by the time I walked back to the car but it never did rain. I have been fascinated by some wonderful clouds this spring and Sunday was another day for them. I accepted the gift nature offered me and now offer it to you!
Despite what dictionaries would have us believe, this world is still mostly undefined.
John Koenig
The wind blows from the west, it’s cold penetrating my windbreaker. A small flotilla of pelicans drifts along the reservoir’s shore. I watch the sun quietly rise above the horizon announcing the new day’s arrival. There’s a serenity over the meadow, wrapping itself around me. I hear the song of one lone meadowlark and a couple of chattering magpies who are not lost for words. Yet, I am lost for words in this experience. Expressing how nature affects us seems impossible. Truth be it’s more about the gift of experiencing it, rather than words. Yet, the poet puts words to paper in their attempt to define what they experience and see. The artist also puts brush to canvas in their attempt using visual words. Makes me wonder if the meadowlarks and magpies are just as lost for words but simply doing the best they can. Maybe it’s all about the attempts by poets, artists, magpies and dictionaries to define what can’t be defined.
