another walk
I was the first one to wake this morning; not a normal happening. It was wonderful. I fixed my coffee and actually got to drink it without interuption. Then I stepped outside to go for my walk alone.
It is a beautiful morning. The crisp cool wind hits me square in the face the moment I open the door. It is invigorating, refreshing, making it a little easier to breath. The bite in the wind is so wonderful; reminding me that fall and winter are not far off. Stepping around the corner I feel the sun on my face, still warm like summer, it is a grand combination. I stop at the corner to gather some sage leaves and then continue down the road. Here comes Nightshade, close behind. How does he always know?
I notice an old cedar tree that had died and fallen when I was a child. The bark is gone and the wood is bleached white from the sun. Many little bugs have made this old tree their home now. But, you can see where they are aiding Mother Earth in reclaiming it. Slowly the old tree is decaying and becoming part of the land once more. A firm reminder of the cycle of life.
The flowers are somehow brighter in the early morning. The wisteria no longer has sweet smelling clusters of lavender flowers hanging down. In their place are marvelous seed pods; shaped like tear drops and soft like velvet. I love them just as much as the flowers that were there before them. The magenta trumpets of the four-o-clocks are closed now but, they will be back this evening. Nightshade sniffed and sneezed at them.
As I near a stream that passes by here I can hear the crickets still singing. Oh, there is a toad! Plunk! He jumps in the water just as I passed. The light trickling of the stream prompts me to just sit for a while and listen to the bell-like music. I can see a path coming up from the stream; looks like the place our turtle comes out at. Nightshade starts playing with a cricket in the grass. I see a small daisy looking flower growing in the marshes around the stream. I wonder what it is? I reach over to pick one, to look it up later. Oh! that grasshoper startled me. I guess I startled her too.
There is a huge, nearly dead, tree nearby. A female jay bird sits singing in the branches. Her mate answers her call and comes to sit beside her. Looks like love to me. They flew away playfully. The tree may be dead but it is still teaming with life. Another reminder of the cycle of life.
As I continue walking the morning glories are still smiling. White, lavender, and pink bells, they greet each day with smiles. I wish I could be as happy as they are all the time. The honey suckle smells sweet in the air. But, something is off. Why is that flower blooming? The spanish bayonet only blooms in May; none of the others are blooming.
I finally reach the end of the road and the point where the ICW, river, and ocean meet. I love this place; the energies of the Earth feel so strong here. The ancient Celts believed that places such as these were sacred. I tend to agree with them. The winds are so strong here, causing the water surface to be broken with white caps. It nearly lifted me up off my feet. Nightshade takes cover under a bush and waits patiently on me to decide to leave. After sitting in quiet meditation for a while; I rise and start to head home, Nightshade following close behind.
Before I go in, I look over to Nightshade. He gives me a wink and is gone. I wonder where he disappears to? Does anyone else even see him?
Today will be a good day.
And it was,
It is a beautiful morning. The crisp cool wind hits me square in the face the moment I open the door. It is invigorating, refreshing, making it a little easier to breath. The bite in the wind is so wonderful; reminding me that fall and winter are not far off. Stepping around the corner I feel the sun on my face, still warm like summer, it is a grand combination. I stop at the corner to gather some sage leaves and then continue down the road. Here comes Nightshade, close behind. How does he always know?
I notice an old cedar tree that had died and fallen when I was a child. The bark is gone and the wood is bleached white from the sun. Many little bugs have made this old tree their home now. But, you can see where they are aiding Mother Earth in reclaiming it. Slowly the old tree is decaying and becoming part of the land once more. A firm reminder of the cycle of life.
The flowers are somehow brighter in the early morning. The wisteria no longer has sweet smelling clusters of lavender flowers hanging down. In their place are marvelous seed pods; shaped like tear drops and soft like velvet. I love them just as much as the flowers that were there before them. The magenta trumpets of the four-o-clocks are closed now but, they will be back this evening. Nightshade sniffed and sneezed at them.
As I near a stream that passes by here I can hear the crickets still singing. Oh, there is a toad! Plunk! He jumps in the water just as I passed. The light trickling of the stream prompts me to just sit for a while and listen to the bell-like music. I can see a path coming up from the stream; looks like the place our turtle comes out at. Nightshade starts playing with a cricket in the grass. I see a small daisy looking flower growing in the marshes around the stream. I wonder what it is? I reach over to pick one, to look it up later. Oh! that grasshoper startled me. I guess I startled her too.
There is a huge, nearly dead, tree nearby. A female jay bird sits singing in the branches. Her mate answers her call and comes to sit beside her. Looks like love to me. They flew away playfully. The tree may be dead but it is still teaming with life. Another reminder of the cycle of life.
As I continue walking the morning glories are still smiling. White, lavender, and pink bells, they greet each day with smiles. I wish I could be as happy as they are all the time. The honey suckle smells sweet in the air. But, something is off. Why is that flower blooming? The spanish bayonet only blooms in May; none of the others are blooming.
I finally reach the end of the road and the point where the ICW, river, and ocean meet. I love this place; the energies of the Earth feel so strong here. The ancient Celts believed that places such as these were sacred. I tend to agree with them. The winds are so strong here, causing the water surface to be broken with white caps. It nearly lifted me up off my feet. Nightshade takes cover under a bush and waits patiently on me to decide to leave. After sitting in quiet meditation for a while; I rise and start to head home, Nightshade following close behind.
Before I go in, I look over to Nightshade. He gives me a wink and is gone. I wonder where he disappears to? Does anyone else even see him?
Today will be a good day.
And it was,