• flowers,  landscape,  Plants,  rants

    Even the Onions

    Taken in 2005

    This beautiful field of sunflowers is now a high school with a huge parking lot, three baseball fields, a half dozen tennis courts, and a massive football stadium. And, directly behind me is over a mile of houses (Starting in the low $400s the signs say). Along with the houses comes buried sewer lines, water lines, gas lines, electrical lines, paved streets, concrete sidewalks, all required infrastructure needing years of constant maintenance against nature’s attempt to reclaim it’s world. And there’s a quick stop place for our gas guzzling cars and to purchase unhealthy foods. For such a large area it would be almost impossible to actually touch the earth as most of it is covered with concrete and asphalt.. The farmer that previously owned this field would alternate the sunflowers with onions yearly. Personally, I preferred the sunflowers over the onions but I will take the onions over what is now there. Saturday morning on my way to meet Eric for coffee I realized how much I miss those sunflowers, even the onions.

  • Creativity,  Essays,  Photography,  writing/reading

    He Inspires Me

    I attended a wonderful program last night at CSU. A friend and fellow coffee shop regular, John Barnhardt, told his story of his 27 years as a cinematographer. He shared how he has wanted to make movies since he was about 9 years old. Through hard work and dedication he has/is achieving that dream, which includes winning an Emmy for some of his work. I was impressed with his openness and his vulnerability in telling his a story. I left inspired by his story, the journey he has taken, the challenges he has faced, developing his talents and gifts as a photographer and cinematographer, and how he inspires the students at CSU to believe in themselves and work towards their passions, finding their purpose, and offering their creativity to the world. I encourage you to check out his website.

  • poetry

    To be nobody-but-yourself…

    Self-portrait at Pineridge Natural Area

    A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.

    This may sound easy. It isn’t.

    A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or thinking.

    Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.

    To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

    E. E. Cummings
  • clouds,  landscape,  poetry,  quotes,  trees

    Storm Clouds

    Storm clouds May 2021

    Breathe in, breathe out,
    breathe until you feel your bigness,
    until the sun rises in your veins.
    Breathe until you stop needing
    anything to be different.

    Julia Fehrenbacher

    I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

  • fountain pens,  journaling,  quotes

    Embrace living…

    Life isn’t something you leave home to do. It’s what you accomplish within the walls of your haven. That’s what allows you to greet the world with an open heart and reach out and embrace living in all its richness, variety, and staggering wonder.

    Richard Wagamese, Embers

    One way for me to greet the world with an open heart, then reach out and embrace living in all its richness, is setting aside time to put pen to paper in my journals. I find it a great way to begin the new day, as well as end the day, while staying in this present moment. Hope you had a good day and I hope you stagger in wonder tomorrow!!

  • landscape,  meadow,  natural areas,  nature,  poems,  poetry,  sunrises

    Only the meadow remains…

    This morning’s sunrise at Pineridge Natural Area

    In the early morning hours
    I sit in silence with the meadow and
    allow her to embrace me.

    I share the dawn of this new day
    while listening to the owl’s cry
    echo through the meadow.

    This shared intimacy with the meadow
    has a way of giving birth to new life
    in the ground of my being.
    … I am, therefore, never the same!

    And, I hear in this sacred place
    an unspoken invitation to return again
    each time bringing an awareness that
    each short visit is but a passing moment.

    So, whenever and while I still can
    I will sit with the meadow
    until only the meadow remains.1This was inspired from a poem written by Li Po (Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain) in the book Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems.

    mws