My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, coffee life, spirituality and the mystery of it all.
Taken on a walk ar Pineridge Natural Area – September 2020
I have learned that the point of life’s walk is not where or how far I move my feet but how I am moved in my heart. If I walk far but am angry toward others as I journey, I walk nowhere. If I conquer mountains but hold grudges against others as I climb, I conquer nothing. If I see much but regard others as enemies, I see no one.
Yesterday we had blue skies, sunshine and mid 70 temperatures. Today we have overcast skies and mid 50 temperatures. And tomorrow back to the mid 70s. Whatever the day is like I hope you get a chance to get out and walk. May you have an Awesome week.
So I rose early on this first day of November to watch the darkness of night give way to today’s sunrise. I felt the cold air that blankets the meadow and took several deep breaths of that cold air into my lungs. I savour this moment not as an observer but as a participant. Nature’s beauty awakens something within me as I witness the new day bringing the hope of blessings to come. And I find myself falling in love with the sky, the quiet, the stillness, creation and the gift of it all. May you have a wonderful November!!
The flute and the boulderImage taken from the boulder
I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit… The thought of some work will run in my head, and I am not where my body is — I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my senses…
Henry David Thoreau in WALKING
There is a voice deep within me that I need to listen to more often and I am not talking about the never ending chatter of my mind. That voice nudged me to get out of the house and out of my head to enjoy this beautiful day with some quality time in nature. So, after lunch I made a visit to Pineridge Natural Area taking my journal, camera and one of my flutes. As I pulled into the parking lot I was greeted by a group of Magpies lined up on the parking lot fence letting me know they were glad to see me. Turning off the car I looked out across the almost empty reservoir and watched gulls floating over the water in search of food. There was not a cloud to be seen, just a blank blue canvas waiting for a cloud. I began to settle into the present moment slowly letting go of distracting thoughts. I noticed the green of the meadow fading and the brown, yellow and gold of fall replacing it. I walked to a familiar, and comfortable enough, boulder that works as a chair and sat down. I allowed my body to relax and soak in the sun’s warmth. I opened my journal and began writing down a few thoughts on those blank pages rather than keeping them in my head. I then picked up my flute and began to practice. The blowing wind wanted to also play the flute so I didn’t practice that long but laid the flute across my lap, took in deep breaths and stayed present. While Thoreau went to the woods, I went to the meadow. I’m glad I listened to that voice and stayed present.
How good it is to pray to God and meditate in the meadows amidst the grass and the trees. When one goes out to the meadows to pray, every blade of grass, every plant and flower enter into his prayers and help him, putting strength and force into his words.
Rabbi Nachman of Breslav
I drove to Reservoir Ridge Natural Area yesterday afternoon to journal but that’s not what happened. Instead I watched and listened. The the air was full of birds and their songs of prayer. And, the grass in the meadow was making music and praying with the wind. I never touched the journal but watched and listened to the concert of songs and whispers of prayers for about 45 minutes. It had to be afternoon prayers.
And today is my youngest sisters 70th birthday. Happy Birthday, Sheree!
I sit quietly on a rock looking out over the meadow and Dixon Reservoir. I feel gratitude for this morning sanctuary, this sacred and holy place.
With my journal and pen in hand, I try to express what I am seeing and experiencing. My sense of hearing is alert to the chatter of the magpies and the songs of robins and meadowlarks. I feel the gentle but cool breeze that reminds me it’s still early spring. I’m noticing the color green beginning to dominate in the trees and grasses of the meadow. I watch the ever changing and beautiful clouds along the eastern horizon as they add a feeling of mystery to this moment.
Within me is a knowing that what I’m experiencing is an expression of the Divine and the miracle is that we are here at all.This was inspired by the quote “The miracle is that we are here at all” by Richard Wagamese, Embers: One Ojibway’s Meditations
In the early morning hours I sit in silence with the meadow and allow her to embrace me.
I share the dawn of this new day while listening to the owl’s cry echo through the meadow.
This shared intimacy with the meadow has a way of giving birth to new life in the ground of my being. … I am, therefore, never the same!
And, I hear in this sacred place an unspoken invitation to return again each time bringing an awareness that each short visit is but a passing moment.
So, whenever and while I still can I will sit with the meadow until only the meadow remains.This was inspired from a poem written by Li Po (Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain) in the book Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems.
… the truth is that we simply don’t know — we don’t know where life ultimately leads, we don’t know what we want or what to want, and we don’t really know ourselves.
I’ve mentioned before my belief of how little I think I think I know. Yet there are times when some sense of knowing does rise within me. This knowing is not about having an answer or solution to a problem. It’s a knowing that somehow changes my perspective on life, this world, people, and myself. I find this knowing to be one of the adventures in life, a place of growth. I am slowly learning small bits of who I’m not and who I’m becoming.
The very meaning of Creation is seen to be an act of worship, a devoted proclamation of the splendour, the wonder, and the beauty of God. In this great Sanctus, all things justify their being and have their place.
Evelyn Underhill
Rain and more rain. Overcast skies and a fine mist seems to be the norm for the day. This image was taken yesterday afternoon on a walk at Arapaho Bend Natural Area. I believe this to be a Musk Thistle from my research on Dr. Google. There are an amazing varieties of thistle so how any scientist can differentiate them is beyond me. Anyway, it’s unpalatable to wildlife and livestock so they focus their foraging on other plants, which leaves the musk thistle to have an advantage over native meadows and grasslands. Thus it is considered an invasive plant. When I do the research most sites want to stress the plants invasiveness and how to control it. Most sites say that natural grasses will out compete them. Such a simple solution. For me I think it’s a beautiful plant among the grasses and does bring awe and wonder to my soul. Maybe that’s their place and justification for existence. I came home with muddy shoes, a few photos and a clearer head. Great medicine. Have a great day!
two simple notes drifting over the meadow a chickadee sings
ms
Much like the snowflake, every morning sunrise is different. It seems to me that no two morning sunrises will ever be experienced the same. Each new dawn Nature provides a new canvas and uses every tool at her disposal in her creative task. Using the wind, temperature, light, the chickadees song, cloud shapes and patterns, maybe even knowing my intention and attitude that morning, she continuously offers an experience. We never know what she will offer. Maybe that mystery alone is what draws me out here.
