
The garden spring peas
Push through the crusty soil
An unhurried voice
Intimate details in nature
The garden spring peas
Push through the crusty soil
An unhurried voice
The trail was dry and dusty as we began our walk. It was not crowded, but the few people we saw did kick up dust that blew in the wind. We ran into a couple on horseback. One of them said they had been there many times and it was never windy, but whenever she came with her partner, it is always windy. It was good to know why the winds were blowing on this day!
Along the plateau we came across a few old ponds. At the second pond, among the many birds we heard the call of a Yellow-headed Blackbird. We spotted it on some reeds drinking or eating from the pond. Soon after our stop at the pond, we headed down toward the lake where there were many downed trees from a fire.
Across the trail lie
Dead trees fallen to the ground
Graciously giving
We found our way to a viewpoint over the lake. Ducks and waterfowl floated on wind swept waves. Others soared overhead with motionless wings carried by the wind. As we began our return along the lake, within the burned areas, we passed a number of young aspen groves.
From under charred ground
Reaching for the empty sky
Aspens shoot upward
Against a white sky
A Weeping Pussy Willow
Swipe of an ink brush
In a comment in my latest post, my friend Nicole congratulated me on the birth of my first grandchild. I am so happy for my daughter and son-in-law and their bringing a beautiful life into this world. I am grateful they are all home and resting.
I wrote the following haiku in response to the timing of my grandson’s birth and how practicing social distancing and the limitations created by the COVID19 pandemic has affected our culture. I did this after I was made aware of an artist project titled “Social Distance, Haiku and You.”
Grandson through pictures
Our sick dying all alone
An ache in the heart
Here is a link to the website:
Social Distance, Haiku and You
This week I’ve been asking myself, what is the best way to prepare for something?
For example at work I prepared to work remotely from home. Our team prepared for the “problems” we will face to make our transition easier and took steps to resolve them. No one could think of anythings else; we were good to go. However, in reality, the self preparedness did not foresee most of the challenges that arose. Some of the preparedness helped, but most of the problems that came up were ones that were not realized ahead of time. They were unpredictable. Each team member’s problems were unique. They ended up working through their “problems” on their own. The result benefited the team.
My thoughts are about the effort and time I put into preparing for something that may or may not happen. These thoughts remove me from the moment at hand. As a result, I lose the truth of the moment and the ability to be present. I prepare to feel safe only to feel unsafe because I’ve set myself up for a perceived outcome, trying to predict the unpredictable.
Anxiously walking
In the park the old willow
quietly waiting
The Red Maple blooms
Open in the spring day sun
Inviting a guest
Water ponds on stone
Raindrop ripples the surface
Vanishes from sight
The trail is dry and hard. I might think it is late summer if it were not for the cold gusts of a spring wind that makes me stumble off the trail finding something a dog left behind. Another gust of wind arrives and I stumble, almost stepping on small spring flowers. I arrive at a bench and sit, tighten the zipper of my coat, and place a hand in each pocket.
Cold Spring wind blowing
Tall grasses bend and shiver
Deep roots hold steady
Hanging by a thread
A teasel takes on spring snow
Already broken
I was reading a chapter titled “Live in the Present Moment,” when I was stuck by this quote, “Remember that this moment is not your life, it’s just a moment in your life.” (1) I thought to myself how this would be a good thing to share here in my blog. But as I thought about it more, the realization came that in the act of thinking about this, I went from being in the moment to not being in the moment!
I find this quote a good practice in these difficult times in the world and in my immediate surroundings; To feel gratitude for being present and to ask what I can do to flatten the curve while continuing to be social and offer assistance to my neighbors. I’ve reached out to neighbors and friends to offer friendship and an openness to ask if there is anything they need, responding as the moment requires. It also occured to me that to simply stop doing and to stay home is a compassionate act toward others, especially those that are at a higher risk.
Part of my practice is to be diligent and with intention be considerate of my neighbors. I look forward with curiosity about how the next several weeks will progress and how this event will shape our relationships with each other and this place we call home.
The wild grasses
Painted with a thin spring frost,
The morning light pops!
(1) Ryan Holiday, The Obstacle is the Way (Penguin group, 2014)
48
cool quiet morning
flock of birds above full moon
light as a feather
moist patches of green
peeking through winter stubble
welcome this spring rain