Archives for posts with tag: moments

Breeze blows by, cars zoom. Tummy is satisfied. Small, quick sketch of what sits across from me as I eat my lunch. 

A few moments everyday to do things that balance, calm, relax–things that matter. Little important moments that carry us through the days–days that are filled with too much of what we don’t need. 

Take many little breaks to soak in the moments while we still can. 

This morning I saw a woman kneeling down with her phone camera in hand, honing in on something in the crevices of one of those large metal grates that you often run into on the sidewalks. I tried to sneak a glance as I walked by. I think she was capturing some sort of greenery that was growing, unnoticed. 

It was nice seeing someone doing that. I know there are many others out there capturing these small moments, things that are hidden from us until we stop to look. I know I’m not the only one; and that’s why it’s nice to see someone else in action, as I might be on a day I’m leaning over some small beauty that’s growing through the cracks of the world. 


Sitting amongst the birch trees,
I listen to the day fade in and out, as I put markings down on the page, coax an image that is enough for me to recognize this moment, eager to continue marking the days–marking the pages with, not only words, but real images. 

It’s ironic that I’m reading more since I’ve been taking classes to complete the A.A. in accounting. Better late, than never. Now that our living situation is different, after work I go to the library almost everyday to study. Usually I only take one class per quarter because it’s all that I have the energy or focus for; however, I’m getting close and have decided that I will take two courses next quarter begins. Summer session is almost done and I finally get a small break before the Fall quarter. At this point, I feel like I’m doing this A.A. degree more for myself than anything. I’m viewing it as a small attempt to provide a cushion if I should find myself somewhere else, and it’s also a challenge that I can afford to take-and must take.

I remember blowing on dandelions when I was a kid; I don’t remember thinking of them as clocks. Today, my daily calendar has a close up photo of a bunch of dandelions with the caption, “Dandelion clocks await a child’s puff of breath.” Today this is really special to me because, amongst other books and audios, I’m listening to Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 and Bradbury Stories: 100 of His Most Celebrated Tales. I’m also wanting to revisit The Illustrated Man.

When I see the dandelions this morning, I see Ray Bradbury. I see Clarisse holding the dandelion up to Montag’s chin. And I remember that when I was in a writer’s group for a very brief moment, one of the writers told me that I should read Dandelion Wine after having read one of my snippets.

I don’t have a strong tie to my own childhood and the dandelion, but after returning to Bradbury, and the dandelion that turns up in his other stories, I feel a real resonance and connection to him. So now when I see dandelions, I see him and I’m reminded of childhood-the childhood that I know he speaks about but haven’t yet read in Dandelion Wine. I think of what a remarkable person that I imagine he was, and of course, a great writer and storyteller. I appreciate how open he is about sharing where the seeds of his stories began.

I knew that if I didn’t come to the page, in this moment, that this moment would fly away just as the seeds of a dandelion, and that sometimes you just have to stop what you’re doing and GO. To be in the moment, lest it fly away, blow into the wind.

Walking down the street, I take notice of the same sorts of things each day, but on some days little things pop out at me, depending on the moment, the time of day, the mood, the weather.

**

Walking down the street, I take notice–
I like the way the rocks look when rain drizzles down,
painting them with drops
that make their inner beauty
come out in splashes of color.


I don’t usually go out of the house in the early morning, but I think if I were to make a habit of it, my soul would appreciate it very much. We were out of milk on Saturday morning and I like having milk with my tea. I knew when I went to sleep the night before, that I would have to get out early, so that I would have some sustenance before my second online mid-term.

The morning greeted me with a cold bite to my nose and finger tips. I pulled out my iPhone to check the weather. It was 39 degrees, which for me, is cold. but the coldness woke me up in the most wonderful way, and as I kept my eyes on all the natural beauties around me, I felt such joy. The light was just right. It was still early enough that the earth was still. I could hear silence with just a faint hint that there were others starting their mornings early.

If not for being out of milk, I wouldn’t have caught this beautiful moment of Mt. Diablo draped in the morning light.

The rays of the sun pushed
through the clouds–
broad, downward brushstrokes
filled with the energy of the sun.

A short lunch break,
notebook turned to Geology notes.
First exam on Tuesday.
The waterfall from the fountain,
brings me away. It flows down and out. The sound of water–so very healing.
Ice tea and chocolate souffle with a carmel surprise.
Needed something sweet.
The day–
Sweet and flowing.

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No words. The image speaks for itself…calm surface, inner depth, reflections…a sky that I could skate across and glide into. Peace…inner stillness that reaches and pulls me into balance with that which goes by many names.