Saturday, January 07, 2023
Thursday, January 05, 2023
A couple times a week, I take my dog, Cyon, offsite to one of several dog-interesting destinations. Sometimes to a park, sometimes a parking lot (if there are other dogs who leave their calling cards), and sometimes to a friend’s property nearby. It was so uncharacteristically balmy for a January day, I decided to take a walk at a wildlife area that has a large marsh pond.
As I drove towards the parking lot, the view revealed something I’d never seen it before. Hovering above the entire 150-acre pond was a thick, pale blue-gray mist. Driving to the edge of the water, I saw that the mist spilled over the banks, enveloping dry vegetation at the edges and all the trees beyond the banks. Since I was the only one there, I let the dog off-leash to enjoy her recreational sniffing.
This made me think of all things Divine; the Spirit that somehow mysteriously inhabits this life. Often it is only when I look back that I recognize divine guidance or gracious transformations in matters of my soul. Other times, hope, surrender, and trust allow me to smile at the future. But in the present, where I stand on any given day, with its responsibilities, stresses, and my own weaknesses, I forget that the spiritual cloud encases me - full of the Loving Energy of Creation and those who love me still but are gone. I know they are there. I ask for their guidance and wisdom. I often wonder how far back the ancestral guidance goes. Does it extend to family I never met or even know existed? I will know one day.
We turned to head back to the car when the scents that had been captivating Cyon ran out. The mist also began to thin out and fade, sunlight finally punched through the thick clouds overhead. Sometimes taking a walk can be a spiritual experience and balm to the soul.
Actually…all the time.
Thursday, September 29, 2022
Today is September 29, 2022. It is my 66th birthday...the sixty-sixth revolution around the sun since I came to this world in 1956, when my parents drove a cadillac with foot-long fins and sat around on the mid-century furniture everyone wants to decorate with these days.
I was born around 3:15 pm, so I'll be talking to my mom later this afternoon, though she's been gone from this world since 1991. I'm sure my dad was not present, as it may have been against policy back then, though I never heard his account of where he was and what he was doing. But many times I did hear the story of how he held me on his lap nine days later during the World Series, when New York Yankees' pitcher Don Larson pitched a no-hitter against the Brooklyn Dodgers. This may explain why I never liked baseball, much to my husband's chagrin, because I'm sure I was choking on cigarette smoke for hours.
Sunday, May 22, 2022
and into the Magee entrance, everything changed. After traveling at speeds of 60 to 70 mph, it was a warm welcome when the car in front of me meandered at a reasonable 25 mph, as did the car in front of it, and all the other cars I could see up the road. And honestly, 25 mph is even too fast when you're desperate to watch a pair of geese attending their adorable fluffs of offspring. I put the all the windows down to let the ubiquitous Yellow Warblers serenade me, flanked on both sides by wetlands filled with herons and egrets.
Friday, April 08, 2022
buckeye trees make their appearance, the older ones fanning out like like elaborate headdresses, grateful for the ice and cold that broke their shells.
Sunday, May 31, 2020
charge – and rarely any justice when threatened or injured by the violence of authorities. I also don’t know what it would do to my heart and soul to grow up knowing there was a part of my county – my own town – who did not know me but hated me anyway. Indeed, whole organizations with chapters in nearly every state, filled with white men who formed these organizations to keep me down or do me harm. I would not know who they are. I would not know if or when they would harm me or for what? I would need to be on-guard and in defensive mode constantly in every socio-economic stratum.
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
This morning before dawn, the barren, leftover bulk of a once-magnificent sycamore fell, crashing so hard it woke me from sound dreaming.