Tuesday, October 15, 2024
Focusing
Friday, October 11, 2024
Only This and More
I have been thinking of this beautiful poem all week. I woke this morning thinking of this photograph that I believe was taken from our campsite on the western side of the summit of Sonora Pass.Tyler is not sure of the location. I do know it was taken on the day before we drove home because the eye phone keeps track of dates. If you look to the right just below the peak, you will see a patch of snow. If you look lower and to the left, you can see falling water, more than likely runoff from the snow. This is not a gentle, rolling hills sort of land.
This Only
A valley and above it forests in autumn colors.
A voyager arrives, a map led him here.
Or perhaps memory. Once, long ago, in the sun,
When the first snow fell, riding this way
He felt joy, strong, without reason,
Joy of the eyes. Everything was the rhythm
Of shifting trees, of a bird in flight,
Of a train on the viaduct, a feast of motion.
He returns years later, has no demands.
He wants only one, most precious thing:
To see, purely and simply, without name,
Without expectations, fears, or hopes,
At the edge where there is no I or not-I.
~ Czesław Milosz
From Wikipedia: Czesław Miłosz was a Polish-American poet, prose writer, translator, anddiplomat. He primarily wrote his poetry in Polish. Regarded as one of the great poets of the 20th century, he won the 1980 Nobel Prize in Literature.
Friday, October 4, 2024
On to the Desert, Part 2
After a day of exploring the Tablelands, we settled on a campsite. It was located a little closer to Bishop than we intended, but that really was not a distraction, especially since later, another camper drove past our site and parked at a slightly higher elevation. He was a paraglider, and his rig included a beautiful yellow wing. It was soothing to watch him soar and dip as the day came to a close.
Where does my help come from?
It comes from you
Maker of heaven and earth
Who holds my foot on the path up
Who's constantly present
Everywhere aware"
from Psalm 121, Opening to You, Zen Inspired translations of the Psalms, Norman Fischer
Thursday, October 3, 2024
On to the Desert, Part 1
Tyler and I spent our first two nights of our trip across the Sierra on the western side of the Sonora pass. I gradually began to feel unwell and I could not get warm. On the second morning, I told Tyler I was not doing well with the cold and that I needed to get out of the trees. He wisely replied, "It is not the trees, it is the altitude. We need to go lower." We packed up without breakfast and crossed the summit and descended. We actually spent that night in a motel in Bishop so we could clean up and get our bearings. The next day we headed out to explore and camp in the Volcanic Tablelands outside of Bishop. While in Bishop I also bought a warm cap for the trip back. I had packed two lighter weight caps and a goose down jacket, but still underestimated how cold the nights can get among the trees close to the summit. I was reminded that I have lived close to sea level (56 feet) for a long time.
and streams in the desert.
The burning sand will become a pool,
the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay,
grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
And a highway will be there;
it will be called the Way of Holiness;
it will be for those who walk on that Way."
Tuesday, October 1, 2024
Earthing
“Knowing that you love the earth changes you, activates you to defend and protect and celebrate. But when you feel that the earth loves you in return, that feeling transforms the relationship from a one-way street into a sacred bond.”
—Robin Wall Kimmerer