My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
A man who works with his hands is a labourer. A man who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. A man who works with his hands, his head, and his heart is an artist.
Francis Of Assisi
While scraping the car’s windshield in the dark this morning I could hear the geese on the pond announcing to the world the approaching new day. I was well aware of their secret, which is why I crawled out from warm covers and made my way to Pineridge Natural Area. I regularly make my way to this sanctuary in nature, needing to experience these sacred moments. I am filled with gratitude for the dawn of this new day, its promises, and the mysteries of what it holds. Now time for a cortado. May you also enjoy the unfolding of this day!
A photo and excerpt from my journal this past July:
Tuesday morning at Pineridge Natural Area. Sun just rose on an almost cloudless horizon. Our meadowlarks sing joyfully. Thank you! Bless this day. Love the birds. I awoke early this morning so had a short night of sleep and may need a power nap later today. The sun is a blinding bright orange orb. It will soon heat up this July day. It is a glorious time of the day for me. My young friend, Kate’s car is here, so she is already up on Viewpoint Spur practicing her morning yoga/meditation. It is also a glorious time of the day for her. This is a sacred place for many. Yet, even in this sacredness I find my mind wandering away to the busyness of the day, fretting, planning and no longer present to the sounds and beauty of creation. I take a deep breath and return. I believe these mornings transform the core of who I am and is an integral part of my own evolution, becoming who I was created to be. A process I will continue to take until my final breath.
“We will recover our sense of wonder and our sense of the sacred only if we appreciate the universe beyond ourselves as a revelatory experience of that numinous presence whence all things come into being. Indeed, the universe is the primary sacred reality. We become sacred by our participation in this more sublime dimension of the world about us.”
Thomas Berry
Dragonflies hang around my ponds this time of the year. I really don’t know them that well but planning to change that. I do not have many images because they are such an elusive creature who needs patience to photograph. As I watched them over the weekend, I decided to set up my tripod and wait. I quickly began to sweat while standing in the 96 degree sun but I was determined. They skim and dart across the water with vigor at 22–34 mph.
The twelve-spotted skimmer, which I think this is, has twelve dark brown wing spots, three on each wing. Males have eight additional spots that are white. Dragonflies are predatory insects. The hunting behavior of adult dragonflies is called “hawking.” Their legs are held in a basket shape during flight, which is perfect for grasping mosquitoes and other small flying insects. Many Native American tribes consider dragonflies to be medicine animals that had special powers. For example, the southwestern tribes, including the Pueblo, Hopi, and Zuni, associated dragonflies with transformation. So today I watched and learned a lot about dragonflies. From now on I will look at them with different eyes, more respect and appreciation. I fell in love with this sacred creature, who I now know is my mosquito eating neighbor.
On a drive down Rist Canyon I came upon this tree shrouded in clouds and mist.
“Too often in the past our approach to truth has been to assume that we have it and others do not. Consequently, we have thought that our role is to tell people what to believe. We are being invited instead into a new humility, to serve the holy wisdom that is already stirring in the hearts of people everywhere, the growing awareness of earth’s interrelatedness and sacredness.”
John Philip Newell
I went to a local coffee shop to sit outside and journal but that did not happen. There was a group of men gathered around a couple tables talking loudly, wearing shirts that told you their political opinions, one of them packing a gun. We are faced daily with people telling us what to believe, their truth, from all different perspectives. It was not a comfortable place, so I left. I went where I could listen to the birds sing. They make more sense to me and I love their music.
What would our world be like if people spent time in nature? Would there be an experience of the awareness of our interrelatedness and sacredness that Newell talks about? How would that change us? Maybe we’d realize we need to be students rather than know-it-alls. Or worse yet, think we need to change the world but not ourselves.
There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places.
Wendell Berry
Groggily awake at 4:00 am. After quiet time and a bowl of hot Irish Oats with blueberries I bundled up and headed to Pineridge Natural Area to catch the predawn colors. Nothing like an 18 degree morning to fully wake up. I was not disappointed as Mother Nature gifted me with wonderful colors. I read somewhere that a beautiful red sunrise or sunset must have clouds, just as our life does.
They say it will be windy and warm today. The strongest winds are expected in the foothills where a High Wind Warning is in effect for wind gusts up to 80 mph. Hang on to your hat! Snow tomorrow.
Predawn along Peralta Trail just east of Gold Canyon, Arizona, April 2014
To pray you open your whole self To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon To one whole voice that is you And know there is more That you can’t see, can’t hear Can’t know except in moments Steadily growing, and in languages That aren’t always sound but other Circles of motion. Like eagle that Sunday morning Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky In wind, swept our hearts clean With sacred wings. We see you, see ourselves and know That we must take the utmost care And kindness in all things. Breathe in, knowing we are made of All this, and breathe, knowing We are truly blessed because we Were born, and die soon within a True circle of motion, Like eagle rounding out the morning Inside us. We pray that it will be done In beauty. In beauty.
Joy Harjo
If you’re interested you can listen to Joy Harjo recite the Eagle Poem here.
