I wandered through the forest, lost and bereft, until I came across a sacred grove. The tree in the center was broken and battered like me, yet its form was that of a cross. Not unlike myself when I extend my arms up to shoulder height and hold them there. But I was too tired to stand there like the tree with my arms held aloft. It was no small thing just to be present most days, let alone holding a pose. So, I sat in the center of the sacred grove and I asked the tree for some of its strength.
Dogwood is one of my absolute favorite flowering trees. It’s still a little early for dogwood where I am, this photo is from 2018, in my cousin’s backyard. When I can find dogwood that I can cut, I love to bring some in the house and have it in a vase. When I am lucky, it dries nicely with the flowers still on it.
My mother loved dogwood and I am certain, it’s another facet of the love of nature that she passed on to me. She had the most beautiful gardens when I was child. She would spend hours working in them.
Fond, happy memories sustain us all, for they affirm the life we’ve lived.
I wish you all grace, joy and some happy memories today…
I’ve been ruminating on these thoughts for a while now… Here we all are in another day of limbo, waiting for the Coronavirus to move on past us, so that we can all resume our lives. We know now that life won’t be the same as it was before this started. We’re all tasked right now with figuring out what the new normal will be. I think we’re also tasked, those who are called, to ask what can I do differently in my life, because my life, all of our lives are now forever altered by this global collective trauma, Coronavirus.
It’s hard to look away from the numbers as the weeks go on. It’s hard to turn away from the raving lunatic at the podium. It’s hard to not feel so many collective emotions that are flowing together and passing through us all, whether consciously or subconsciously. For me personally, I feel as though I must bear witness to this life altering time. Most days I find myself sitting in the still in deep contemplation. Eventually as I work through the things in my head, the bearing witness, I find my mind is still and clear.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to the page since this started. I try and let what I write drop away, by deleting it. Something I am always loathe to do. There might be words of value somewhere on that page that I just dumped. So today, I’m not dumping this page. I’m just letting my thoughts flow and letting my readers know where my head is at in the midst of Coronavirus – Stay at Home life.
Thankfully in the midst of all of this, we see new beginnings are happening all around us. Whatever the new normal will be, let’s all make the most of it. Peace…
Winged Bird
Winged bird in flight,
Flying so freely through the night,
Upon the winds of love
And hope,
Fearful perhaps of what might.
Like all winged creatures
You soar,
High above earth's stable ground,
Touching briefly,
If only to light,
Upon the soul of love's creation.
Your flight is your fancy,
Your freedom from truth,
You use your wings wisely,
To escape attainment.
Winged bird in flight,
Flying so freely through the night,
Upon the winds of love
And hope,
Fearful perhaps of what might.
To stop your flight,
And be conceivably grounded,
Would it quench,
Your freedom you fear;
Or would you gain,
With your wings some feet,
To plant firmly on earth,
Among the seeds of love,
And grow ever more joyous,
Amid what love reaps.
In 2015, while working on my undergraduate degree in Digital Communications and Creative Writing I did an Independent Study in Nature Writing. During the class, I had substantial reading list (some of the books are listed below) that I worked my way through. However, I found that the most valuable and instructive time that I spent, while working on my independent study, was actually done outdoors in nature observing it in the area of the Merrimack River estuary lands where I lived in Amesbury, Massachusetts.
At the time I rented an apartment in a historical shipwright’s house on Pleasant Valley Road. All around the house there were woods and wetlands that are protected by the Massachusetts Division of Conservation Services. I needed only to sit at my desk to and look out the window in front of it to see bald eagles and blue herons fly across or even through the front yard.
One day returning from my frequent walks along the river I watched a sharp-shinned hawk dive from a sugar maple tree in the front yard into a yew shrub in front of my living room window (where my desk sat) and lunch on a sparrow.
Sometimes I muse and I ramble because I can... I muse about life and things that matter to me...
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