A Walk in the Park

 Last Saturday, Tyler and I decided to go for a walk in part of the East Bay Regional Park that is not very far from our house. When we got out of the truck, we could hear a whistle coming from the far side of the crowded parking lot. We noticed a group was gathering, and we were both pretty sure what we were hearing  was a child blowing a toy whistle. We really did not think too much about it, other than take it as a sign that we needed to get on our way. We walked for a while, and then we began to hear not one, but several toy whistles coming from behind us. We turned and saw a fairly large group coming in our direction. We paused on a small side trail to let them pass. Every child had a whistle, and each seemed quite engaged with blowing it as loudly as possible. One of the male leaders was singing to Jesus in full, but slightly off key voice. He would periodically pause and enthusiastically voice encouragement to both adults and children to keep going. As more children equipped with whistles passed by, Tyler mentioned that we probably would not be able to do our usual full loop due to recent storm damage. We decided to turn around for fear that the rest of the hike would be accompanied by a cacophony of sound that neither one of us found particularly endearing. 

 

 We have had enough rain that the trail was muddy, and we often had to maneuver around puddles, sticky mud, and streaming water. I now hike using two poles, and I walk carefully. However, I was intrigued as I watched a young girl pass us. She was actually dancing around the puddles and over the streams. Her mother, who was a little out of breath and not quite so light on her feet, looked at me and we smiled in acknowledgement that such ease of movement was beyond both of us. As I remember the child's (probably a pre-teen) absorption in her dance, I realize that the difference between her actions and the actions of the rest of the children was that she was actually interacting with the environment as she lightly moved through. She was fascinating to watch. 

    

Yet, walking slowly has its advantages, and I believe my current pace allows me to notice more of the beauty around me. I took only a couple of photographs that day, but I am grateful for this picture of a mushroom I spotted along the way. I was initially drawn to its color, and I did not notice the spores. However, I realize now it is a picture of a cycle of life that is quiet, at least to a human's ear, and often out of our sight.    

       

This poem reminds me we are all knitted together in this life whether we are a mushroom, a young dancer, or one who is simply pausing by the side of the road to look around and hopefully take note. 

    

"Your Moment to Shine"

  

The moment is here,
the moment you step
forward from fear
into light, the moment
that your soul takes flight.

Burrow no more in darkness
and despair. Dare to show
your radiant self,
the miracle of awakened
energy giving you wings
and the courage to be
human and divine
at the same time.

With this breath, you are
initiated into the depths
of freedom and love,
into the peril and perfection
of the moment as it truly is,
and you are right with it,
open, refusing to close down
or cower no matter what
challenges find you inside
or outside. This is your
moment to shine.

~ Danna Faulds

image: March 2024