When I went out for a walk this morning, it was strangely quiet except for the occasional caw of a crow in the distance and the gentle dry rustling of the phragmites at the edge of the marsh whenever a slight breeze would whisper through them. As I walked and walked, I noticed that the outer stillness of the morning had become an inner stillness within me, a gap between thoughts, to-do lists, and all the other chatter that usually goes on in the mind. The noticing, of course, became a thought, and the babble came pouring back in.
A small stone from this morning’s walk.
clouds sagging earthward
meet the high-reaching branches
of skeletal trees
I’ve decided to participate in the Mindful Writing Challenge which starts in January. I enjoyed this year’s River of Stones so much that I couldn’t pass it up. In the meantime, a bit of practice can’t hurt.
The image is a collage of three photos taken on a foggy, misty morning much like today.
a fall transition
We had our first hint of winter yesterday. It was mitten weather, cold and damp after a week with the remnants of Sandy swirling wind, gray clouds, and rain showers over the area. The lake effect machine (Lake Erie in the north) was turned on, bringing rain at first. Big, fat snowflakes joined in, reminding us that winter weather will soon take over.