everything is linked

For me, part of the need to go away is the need to come back home to my familiar haunts and my too-familiar self, and see them afresh. Sometimes something has to change, and if I can't do it myself, I get to where the surroundings will do it for me.

Some places are better for this than others.

I have seldom read a book without hoping that in the text there will be some message, some form of self-awakening, that will help to enlighten me in the manner of my living.*


I watch my daily life for signs. A little head nod from the cosmos.

**

The last evening at the lake, loons called far away, miniscule black grains of rice on flurried waters, then a long hooting and they were flying right over me, twenty feet up, and I could see the white feathers dotting their belly. Each moment is so quick it is all I can do just to keep up, to think ~ this is happening.


The leopard frogs jumping in dots and dashes, the piece of wasp paper in my path, the hummingbird wiping its beak right-left, right-left and stretching in a feathery shudder. Snakeskins on the jumping rock, the heron landing in the tree in front of me with a delicate crash, the sunset creeping in like a striped tiger. Milkweed puffs floating like pearls.

**

Autumn rain on the grasses sounds like hail dropping on frozen snow. Everything is linked.

*derek tangye, 'the ambrose rock'
**taken by tim