Category: Uncategorized

Alone. Sitting where the trail bends. Sounds of water dripping after a light rain and the bubbling of a hidden small stream. Lots of purple larkspurs and yellow arnicas.  Like the trail bending it feels like my life is bending too. It’s my 70th Spring. As I always have, I’m still looking for the good.  Along life’s trail, I have found a lot. I remind myself, to remember that. The pain in my hip reminds me to take a deep breath and know I am safe. I keep on sitting. I keep on listening. Tall trees standing firm before me, speak of calm. The quiet and beauty of this place and the sound of water drops dripping touches me with softness. 

In a field of blooms and grass, that I was about to pass, I stopped, to be alone in nature’s powers, I found myself walking in wildflowers, the silence there slowed me down. I took time to look at the show of colors all around until I decided to lie on the ground. Lying there I thought of my days when I was young, running in the sun, and how now, in my older age, it sometimes feels like I’m in the shade of dark clouds. But this morning as I looked at the abundant petals so bright in the glow of early light and saw how the wildflowers thrive, I was grateful to be able to join with them in being alive. 

I find some shade, in a pine glade, with hardy and wild flowers all around, I take a seat on the ground, I feel the coolness of the breeze shaking off the heat of the sun,  I’ve just begun to breathe it all in, where does nature begin and end, I don’t know,  I miss the winter snow, but the flowers’ glow and the meadowlark’s song brings me a feeling that even in the Spring I can find delight and belong.

The delight of morning light, in a ponderosa forest glade, feeling connected to my earthen base , from which I am made, yet, visioning myself moving through space, while sitting alone, among April pasqueflower blooms, in the foothills, below rocky ridges jutting up into blue sky like bare bone, I am observing and listening, seeing the light reflecting and glistening, hearing the caw of a crow crowing, aware of the joy in my heart growing, knowing I am part of one biota

Walking a forest ridge in an April snow, flakes falling  powdery and fine, the only tracks on the ground are mine, I lean against a tree and the feeling is free, I feel  the solitude, I breathe the silence, I hear the patter of flakes on my shoulders, out here time seems suspended, the only measure being day and night and the seasons, my human limits are upended, out here it’s not about will, it’s about being still, it’s about not being needed, it’s about …being 

Half-moon aglow in the southern sky is bright, at the end of the night, close mountains aglow in early sunlight, in the far mountains, higher up, beyond what I can see, the sky is snowing, the wind is blowing, that’s where I’m going, to walk and stand, under tall conifer trees, wearing my snowshoes, looking up into swirling flakes floating down to the land, they fall on my face, body and feet, we come together for a mutual greet, and in that moment, falling snow, without and within, is also aglow 

Across a bridge, I went for a walk in a snowy forest of evergreen and white, flakes lying in the conifer needles a winter delight, and as l wandered, walking through this space, wondering at the unavoidable beauty of this place, I mused about how when I was young, I would run, not minding the cold in wind-driven falling snow, now I’m slow, older and colder, but I still connect to the solitude and silence, I stop more to sit, to breathe out, breathe in, calm my spin, I stop thinking, only observing and listening, in a wild, away from human thundering 

There’s a little Aspen grove I know that’s always a good place to go,  when the leaves are young and green with a Spring sheen or when they are old in the Fall and turning gold, or in winter when the branches are bare and the leaves are on the ground under a blanket of snow, there’s a calm waiting there to hold me, resting there beneath each tree, holds me in an embrace, it’s that kind of place, the kind of place where I can feel hidden, when I carry the care of a load unbidden, when I’ve had a moment or more of not good, it helps to come here to let it go in the solitude and beauty of this silent wood. 

Sitting on the ground in the shadow of a spruce trunk,  leaning against the strength, liking where I’ve landed, realizing how much I needed to slow down, take a break from the agenda, make a stop not on the schedule, hear a turkey gobble, and hope I get to see it, but when I do not, be okay, not moving, letting the motion of the planet itself be enough for me, for a while, and I can in fact see that motion, as I notice the shadow has shifted as I’ve been here sitting still, I shift just a bit to the right, with it, and the primary motion I feel now is emotion, feel like I want to cry, seems my mind is always on what I need to do next, so I’m thinking I need to make more stops, with intention.