the steady drip of rain
against the window pane
ice melting, drizzling
pouring downhill
merging with the pond
one drop, one body
of water
at a time
Today’s small stone.
Water
The sun rises from behind the neighbor’s house,
revealing and warming the trees at the back of the pond
in a blaze of golden-orange light.
Darkness lurks in the woods.
*The title for this post is courtesy of the spam I cleared out this morning. One of them referred to my blogs as “merely magnificent.” I love the contradiction in terms.
Silvery moonlight streams through the window
and onto the sticky mat
Where I am
Becoming
Space
Expanding
Gliding over the ice
Sohum
(I am that I am)
Riding the moonlight
How to hike in the Bogs: Take deep, deep belly breathes. Right down to your toes. Place one foot in front of the other. Step, slip, slide, pull, be grateful your boots are so firmly attached you can escape the suction of the mud trying to draw you down into the wet earth without leaving a boot or two behind. Smile. A lot. Sing. Listen to the birds answer your song. A walking stick is useful but not essential. Accept and enjoy the mud, the puddles, and the overall bogginess. Stop and admire the reflection of the sun and tree branches in the melting ice. Walk slowly. Magic happens. You’ll miss it if you move too fast.
Daily walks are an adventure lately. Between the record setting rainfall in 2011 and the melting of the foot or so of snow we had last week, the ground is soggy. The top photo was processed in Photoshop. It’s one of those trails through the woods where magic happens.
Sun and tree branches reflected in the melting ice.
Pulled from sleep, I leave the warmth of the bed, pad barefoot across the cold hardwood floor. At the window, the golden glow of an almost full moon lights up the sky, and pours over the icy surface of the pond. We greet each other in the stillness of early morning, a luminous embrace.
bubbling, babbling, burbling
the gurgling gush of the January thaw
water sprites splashing in the stream
Because we have not had a proper winter — lots of rain, warm weather, and very little in the way of ice and snow — I hesitated to use the term January Thaw, but it is January and the snow and ice from the past few days is quickly thawing as it warms up again. Good enough. 🙂
Winter falls silently across the morning,
a blanket of snow stretches over the dreaming earth.
Unmarked paths of white wait in quietude.
My January 3rd small stone, tossed into the river.
I found this difficult to do today, and had many thoughts about giving up. It is almost impossible, it seems to me, to capture in words or photos the beauty of the first big snowfall, when the world is hushed and the snowflakes waltz down from the sky, romancing the earth before covering her in winter’s white and sparkling jewels and clothing.
What is it that you contain? The dead. Time. Light patterns of millennia opening in your gut. Every minute, in each of you, a few million potassium atoms succumb to radioactive decay. The energy that powers these tiny atomic events has been locked inside potassium atoms ever since a star-sized bomb exploded nothing into being. Potassium, like uranium and radium, is a long-lived radioactive nuclear waste of the supernova bang that accounts for you.
Your first parent was a star.
~ Jeanette Winterson
Don’t disregard your life. It is too precious. This moment, right now, is the only life you will ever have. You can’t store it up for the ideal time. When you walk, walk with your whole body and mind joining the floor. Place your eyes in the soles of your feet, walking as if the floor were a dear friend. This is intimacy with all things, where the whole world is self, where there is no ‘outside’ or other.
~ Pat Phelan
The first drops of rain always bring a smile on our faces. The smell of wet soil, the damp grass, and the slosh of puddles under our feet makes us want to dance with wanton joy. Rains make a heart go romantic. Ever danced in the rain? The feeling is inexplicably beautiful. Hold your sweetheart’s hand and walk in the rain while the clouds play cupid.
~ G. K. Chesterton
Bountiful Healing 