Nature

After the storm
The sounds of the dripping ice from the trees
The crunch of the snow being chipped away
The traffic zooming by splashing snow on the pedestrians
Not with a caring thought of who is getting slushed upon
Ah, winter the cold, the brisk, the sun, the light
The weather changing
The weather warming up
The weather warming down
It’s like a tease
Oh, Spring is here
Yet the sun and the birds are chirping
But then Oh old woman winter comes out
It is below zero again
Well that is kind of the way life can go
It can be up

There’s a brook along the road on my drive home from work. I stopped there today, parked my car, and I walked out to the middle of the brook. You can do it if you’re very careful, and you select the stones that rise just above the shallow eight inches of the babbling brook.

I walked out to the middle, and I stopped. And I crouched down. A few feet away, the brook gets deeper, maybe three to four feet. And the rapids are moving quicker. The sound is intensified, so strong and so loud, you can’t even hear the cars passing on the highway just 40 yards away.

Come to the lake of calm. It sits there open to you.

You will not find it in travel books, nor upon any map ever made.

Because you do not “go there,” but rather “tune-in,” like dialing a radio station.

Many of us keep this place ready for you. Holding a space of pure peace.

Thousands, if not tens of thousands, if not far more, offer this collective vision. We pour out thought-power, our peaceful energy, our imagination into this “place,” this little realm, if you want to call it that.

We combine our thought focus to offer this.

Several years ago, I worked in a computer lab at the university I attended as a graduate student. Since I was the one who usually had to open the lab, I often got to campus very early, and was one of the first people in the parking lot.

Getting up early and commuting on the Merit Parkway was not fun. Sometimes there would be traffic jams. Other times, there was so much ice, I could barely get to work safely.

As much as I hated the commute, sometimes there were nice parts about arriving early.

Coincidence, synchronicity, what really the cause of that
The power of thought
The law of attraction
My friend Bruce and Richard were over my home today as we were working
on our project
Bruce was telling the story of a big tree
He thinks you should get the proper permission to take them down
How they should not be taken down
They have their rights to be on the planet
He was making a point for the environment and nature

I started to chuckle I said

I am on the beach.

The sand feels warm and inviting on my feet.

I love the “swish, swish” of the waves.
The pebbles are tumbled, soft clear white.
The seashells call to me to look at them.

A child is making a sand castle, with a red, metal pale.
Another child is blowing bubbles.
A single bubble floats by me.

I am happy.
I see myself in the bubble, happy, along with this whole beach, sky, and ocean, in that little bubble.
It floats away to carry my happiness beyond me.

One of our favorite summer days was blueberry day.

We’d put on old clothes, our straw hats, then gather our baskets and make our way to the Jones’ Family Farm in Shelton. We’d hitch a ride on the “berry ferry”, and be driven out to the blueberry bushes.

Blueberries are easy to pick and practically popped into our small baskets. When our small baskets were filled, we’d dump them all into the big basket and fill that up. The camera was always on hand.

After the picking, we’d drive to Huntington Center and have lunch and dessert at Sassafras Restaurant.

You’re walking along the ocean shore in Truro, Massachusetts, and Cape Cod. You feel all alone in the world right now.

You went for a walk, to kind of gather yourself, but still, you feel alone.

The area in Truro is distant from the parking lots, so very few people ever venture out that far.

So you see no sun bathers. All you see are a few seagulls.

But basically you’re alone. Or are you?

I like to sit in my back yard, and listen to the great composers: Vivaldi’s “Flute Concerto #2”, the solo flutist, and Giuseppe Verdi’s “La Traviata”, the duel between Violetta and Alfredo. And Beethoven’s “Moonlight Serenade”, that single solo piano.

The sounds of the orchestra, the flutes, the piccolos, the French horns, the bassoons, the clarinets, the oboes, the violas, the cellos, the trumpet, each instrument is beautiful music to my ear. Perhaps you like this too.

Aromatic Forest
Imagine you are going hike today
You just put on your new hiking boots
And you have a good sturdy strong hiking stick in your left hand
As you look ahead the woods are very green and very inviting
Majestic oaks and maples tower about you 90 to100 feet
Providing the most wonderful cover from the hot sun
A gentle breeze is blowing
Under the cover of these majestic tress
Patches of green growth provides homes to countless little creatures
You pass an evergreen
You can’t help but notice the aroma of the pine needles