My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Third day in a row of almost cloudless skies. Rather unusual for Colorado. I watched as the orange globe rose above the horizon, casting its sunbeams on everyone. Nature repeats this each morning yet it is never the same. This morning it’ a’s an offering of hope, the promise of new beginnings, and a prayer for world peace. Enjoy your Sunday!!
“Tomorrow is never ours until it becomes today.”
It was 62 degrees yesterday afternoon as I sat in my yard soaking up the sun and journaled. Had lots on my mind so the words flowed. I was joined by three squirrels who were also enjoying the sunshine while chasing one another, seemingly in a game of tag. Mallards and geese floating on the open water were making quite a racket as they enjoyed the water. And as I watched, listened and wrote my mind settled down. Then a thought came that I should take my camera for a walk around the pond, stretching my legs and flexing my shutter finger. Before I knew it this short jaunt became a lovely gift as I came across this galaxy of stars.
Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
Kahlil Gibran
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness.
It’s always a good day when I can get in a nice walk with my camera at one of the local Natural Areas. I do enjoy these cottonwood trees anytime I walk along the east side of Arapaho Bend Natural Area, especially late in the afternoon or at sunset. This time of the year when the sky is clear and the sun is bright the afternoons are the warmest time for a January walk. So I walk, watch and do my best to listen to the wordless poems of the trees. Can you hear them?
I have never taken a picture for any other reason than that at that moment it made me happy to do so.
Jacques-Henri Lartigue
There is about a one mile stretch along South County Road 5 that has maybe three or four places where you can see the Poudre River. The rest of this stretch of road is blocked by brush and trees. I like this specific location because it has a peaceful feel to it. The cows graze in their field of paradise, rich in green grass and the river quietly and gently meanders east onto the parched prairie. Friday was the first day of Fall and I could see and feel it… so stopping and taking a photo made me happy to do so. Have a wonderful Sunday!
I come for the silence heard in the ground of my being
mws
which brings awareness of the gift of life.
As this gift unfolds,
the sun rises over a cloudless horizon,
a fish quietly rises to the water’s surface
and a quiet prayer is heard in my soul.
This Book of Nature has opened its pages of this new day,
may we silently read each word.
I come here for the silence.
I was awakened around 2:00 am with flashes of lightning bursting in my bedroom. I could hear and feel rumbles of thunder while the rain pounded on my bedroom window. Sounded like one of those storms my dad would call a toad-strangler. I layed there with a heart full of thanks, thankful for the comfort and protection of my condo and how rain is such a refreshing gift of nature. In my mind I envisioned a predawn eastern sky with scattered clouds above the horizon, perfect for a photo. 
A couple hours later with that vision in my mind I headed out to Pineridge Natural Area. So, when I say morning after in the title I’m talking about the thunderstorm and not any overindulgence from the night before. Thankful those days no longer exist in my life. Hope you have a wonderful Thursday!
The spiritual journey is a constant interplay between moments of awe followed by a process of surrender to that moment.
Richard Rohr
While reading and journaling at Rolland Moore Park I noticed the wind rustling through the cottonwood trees above me. It caused me to look up and have one of those moments of awe. And, I just happened to have my camera with me.
I, who live by words, am wordless when
Madeleine L’Engle, “Words”
I try my words in prayer. All language turns
To silence. Prayer will take my words and then
Reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns
To hold its peace, to listen with the heart
To silence that is joy, is adoration.
The self is shattered, all words torn apart
In this strange patterned time of contemplation
That, in time, breaks time, breaks words, breaks me,
And then, in silence, leaves me healed and mended.
I leave, returned to language, for I see
Through words, even when all words are ended.
I, who live by words, am wordless when
I turn me to the Word to pray. Amen.
Those prayers of my youth for help have evolved over time to become more about gratitude, listening and staying present. I like that. Prayer has become much more than the words I say and more about the words I hear, yet are unheard. I like that. I can also say the same thing with my journaling, blogging and my photography. Each is becoming what it is meant to be. I like that. My friend shared this poem with me. I found it to resonate with me so I wanted to share it with you. This is last night’s sunset along Overland Trail. Directly behind me is a pond with a wonderful chorus of croaking frogs. I like that. Moments like this have become prayer to me, no need for my words. Well, maybe “Thanks.”