Hanging by a thread
A teasel takes on spring snow
Already broken
Blog
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A new day, #13
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)
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morning, evening, #11
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 -
Action – Effect, #10
Cityscapes – Awareness The person in the photograph featured is Logan, a local university student. On Fridays, he stands on the corner of 3rd and Washington Street, bringing an awareness to drivers and walkers passing by about climate change. He has been doing this since he organized our local Climate March on April 12, 2019, or possibly longer.
Another person who invested time in increasing awareness who I met recently is Peter. He is author of the book ‘Healing the Big River, Salmon Dreams in the Columbia River Treaty‘. Peter drove the entire length of the Columbia River, from the headwaters at Canal Flat Canada to the Pacific Ocean at Ilwaco, Washington. The book is a photographic document alongside essays of those he met along the way. Here are two quotes that touched me:
“In the summer some 80 years ago, my grandfather went to the shore near the Windemere to greet the return of the salmon. Days went by, then weeks, maybe a month. No fish. What is wrong? My grandfather wondered if the creator was angry for some reason. We did not know about the building of the grand Coulee Dam that stopped our salmon from coming home. We are still waiting.” -Alfred Joseph, Chief of Akisq’nuk First Nation.
Peter Pochocki Marbach Healing the Big River, Salmon Dreams in the Columbia River Treaty (Brown Printing Portland, Oregon, copyright Peter Marbach 2019), 26
“My generation will be some of the last people to know glaciers on the mountain peaks. We will be some of the last to love many oceanside places. Some of the last to remember summers not consumed by wildfire and choked by smoke. Some of the first to get used to the term ‘climate refugee’. My generation will be one of the last to have lived in a time before this loss became – to some degree – inevitable” -Graeme Lee Rolands
Peter Pochocki Marbach Healing the Big River, Salmon Dreams in the Columbia River Treaty (Brown Printing Portland, Oregon, copyright Peter Marbach 2019), 45
Peter brought to me an awareness of how our actions today affect not only people here now, but also our future generations. He also brings to our attention that the U.S. State Department and Global Affairs Canada are engaged in talks that are aimed at updating the Columbia River Treaty. He is getting the message out that there is now an opportunity to make our voice heard for the people who depend on the salmon runs and the river.
I am grateful for Logan’s and Peter’s actions. They serve as a reminder to stop and pay attention every day, to not give up and continue to do my part, and to realize the effect of each action I take on our earth and the community that depends on it.
bird song, winter? spring?
snow drops sprout in snow removed
morning alarm rings -
Palouse Mountains and Buttes, #9
Moscow Mountain A geologist once shared with me that the mountains and buttes in the Palouse region are the tips of granite mountains whose valleys were filled 6 to 17 million years ago by the eastern edge of the Columbia Basin flood basalts. Each peak is made up of the same material, but on my walks among them, I find each is unique.
I have walked all of the peeks pictured on this page except for Tomer Butte which I have circled on my bicycle. That route follows Lenville Road to the Genesee to Troy Road, and then returning along the Latah trail. It is a beautiful ride.
I photographed this series in the fall and winter of 2017.Ancient granite peaks
grassy ruts in wind blown loess
look! a shooting star
Paradise Ridge 
Steptoe Butte 
Kamiak Butte 
Tomer Butte 
Bald Butte Branches waters clouds
Mountain gifts for I to nest
Swallowing the moon -
Morning Winter Sun, #8
First image in the light in dark investigation:
Winter air frozen
sleeping berries sun fading
morning moon risesLast image of the light in dark investigation:
Snow-Mountain blankets
blossoms awaken moon fades
morning winter sunAs spring approaches morning walks have given way to light from dark. This is the opposite of when I started this investigation last fall when the morning gave way to dark from light. I invite you to view the gallery of images of the journey between here:
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Stone Bridge Crossing, #7
Cityscapes: Stone Bridge Crossing There has been a lot going on this week at work, in the local community, and in our worldly ways that have left me feeling drained and tired. It is in these times I usually push back only to end up getting lost in all of the noise.
I recently read a blog post on silence where I found myself thinking, as I have in the past, that I can maintain a silence through all this and keep going. But I end up finding the energy misused and lost along with any possibilities.
But reading on about silence in the post, there was a recognition that when practicing, taking time to stop, take care, and rest, the attachment loosens. In taking this time to become unattached, there is an acceptance of things that begin to blur the lines of separation between them.
When rested and clear that energy becomes part of us, with no separation while participating at work, in the community, and the world, in a compassionate space of possibility. Silently.
Snow moon reflecting
Rushing river dewdrops cross
Stone bridge of grasses -
Passing Winter Breeze, #6
Mountains and Waters: Passing Winter Breeze Cold temperatures have returned to the Palouse for the time being. My walk to the tea shop was much cooler today than the walk I took last week on my way to have tea with a friend. During our visit my friend shared something that made me think of intention. Afterwards I wasn’t so sure and asked myself, “What would it be like to take a photograph of intention?” So I set out to do the opposite of what I usually do. Rather then let the photograph come in the moment, I tried to intentionally take a photograph of “intention.” The week went by and I had not taken a single photograph. Finally I did take a photograph, but it wasn’t what I set out to do. The photograph I took happened in the moment when I stopped being intentional.
Looking up ‘intention’ in the dictionary I found these common words: purpose, goal, target, and aim. This to me was the opposite of my experience. When I made it a goal to get a picture, it didn’t happen, but when I let go of that intention on one of my walks later in the week, I was open to experience my surroundings.
During that same week I was considering a lifestyle change because of an offer I received at work. Because of this, my work day experience shifted. I stopped thinking of my future at work. I found myself focused during meetings and projects, helping and feeling gratitude for others rather than being concerned about a process or a perceived outcome of a project or task. There was a letting go of what I thought were my intentions, of goals and targets. Instead my ‘intention’ became an awareness of my actions with no goals or targets. For the first time in a while, I experienced a peaceful joy on the job.
Now I wonder, what possibilities did I miss last week that were right there with me when looking to photograph intention?
Fallen leaf floating
the frozen grasp of waters
Passing winter breeze -
Paradise Ridge – Change, #5
Mountains and Waters: rising up mountain flowing My experience taking this picture and viewing it afterward is one of change. It was not long ago I gave a short talk about change and possibility. I asked the question, “Does Moscow Mountain or Paradise Ridge change?” Then I continued to say, “Most people would say that both Moscow Mountain and Paradise Ridge do not change, but they are changing in this moment, and this moment and ….” Now I realize this assumption was in error and rather, I would perhaps find several answers to the question. Some people might say that they do change, but slowly. Others might say they do change by season, and even others might say they change by day. I didn’t realize until now that the answer given is dependent on the momentary perspective of the person being asked.
If the answer comes from an individual’s perspective, then what is change? What is really changing outside of what is perceived? It was recently pointed out to me that the mountains changing creates the soil were we build our homes and where we plant our gardens. When I read this I realized it could not be the mountains alone, but instead the cooperation of more than one thing. It is the interdependent interaction of mountains being mountains and waters being waters and mountains and waters being mountains and waters that brings this gift to us.
This is a fresh new look for me that I will ponder in my day to day actions. How can I participate without ownership in the sharing of gifts that each moment has to offer?
Falling winter rain
rises up mountain flowing,
sleeping blossoms lie
