Archives for posts with tag: nature

Gentle Spirit,
Sail and believe﹘
remember the light.
Listen. Celebrate.

Confetti swirls
within your soul,
always. It lives on.

Go Gentle Spirit,
for now and then and then
and then
and again, Gentle Spirit.

Halloween and Fairy succulent creations at Sloat Garden Center

Breezy morning, gently reminds that Autumn is near. Little squirrel with his shaggy tail ducks under a car, making a dash to collect his bounty.

Summer Flowers – Photo from July

It’s funny how whether you have a plan or not, sometimes, the day has a plan for you. It could be the Universe talking or Mother Nature, or maybe the Earth has reached its capacity to maintain balance. It’s as though some higher power has run a finger and swished the yin-yang of this world into chaos. It’s as though we are in a state of pause….and from this chaos, there is light, there is hope.

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This is where my fingers stop tapping. They hover above the keyboard, ready to say more, but at the moment this may be it, and that’s OK.

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Yesterday I went to a nearby thrift store to drop off some donations. Mostly clothes and a few books. I wasn’t planning on going into the store. The donation drop-off is at the back of the store. I pulled the car up and gave the lady my bags. She was on the phone and said that she was talking to a friend that has to move out of her home to live closer to her grown kids so that they can help take care of her. She was having trouble letting go of all that she’d accumulated during her lifetime. I nodded in understanding. We are all headed in that direction. Collectors of memories and stuff.

I walked away, got into my car, ready to circle out of there; instead, I pulled into a parking spot in the back and decided to head into the store to see if there were any treasures I could find. As I walked past the lady toward the front entrance of the building, she smiled at me and said, “your our best type of customer; you start in the back and end in the front.” I gave a wide smile, and bid her good day. I liked her words. I hadn’t thought of it quite that way, but it was true, and it made me want to find something that much more. I didn’t make it past the books, but I did leave there with a pile of books and a surprise that I saw at check out. A bright pink box: 20 Poems: Cards which use Rhyme and Rhythm to Make Words Stick by The School of Life.

As I reach the end of today’s journal page, I am open to what the day brings. I try to keep my optimism hat on, but at the same time, I acknowledge whatever emotions I may be feeling at any moment.

I breathe in deeply…letting my breath out slowly, as I sign off, leaving a trail of peace.

img_2734It’s my Monday off. Hubby is tending to the backyard plants, the garden, our little sanctuary that his father began, and he, his son continues. I’m listening to the water fall from the hose, the scratch of the dog’s feet as he explores the morning sights, sounds, and smells. I hear the mockingbird that’s been quite active in the wee hours of the morning on other occasions; I hear feathered friends peeping and tweeting, whistling their happy tunes.

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Seahorses dance through the
cloud tracks in the sky…tight buds
waiting to bloom into pink puffs
of delight. Sun shines a warm smile
into my being, a happy step to my gait.

Driving around yesterday, I started to really see the colors of autumn in the trees. But I still see the sunflowers in my mind, and for me, that marks the entry into Autumn and the feeling of simple joy.

I had been telling hubby for some time that I’d wanted to plant sunflowers because they make me feel happy whenever I see them dancing in front of passing homes. We never did get around to it.

We have several containers with an assortment of plants and small trees lining the backyard walkway. A couple month’s back a variety of weed-like beauties started popping up. I was going to pull them out, but never did. One of the few times when procrastination, paid off. I told hubby that the three stalks in the geranium container looked like they might be sunflowers. We would have to wait.

Everyday, I looked forward to checking on the progress. Could it be?

At last, I could see the tight fist of a head begin to open; there was no question: my dear sunflowers had arrived, and all thanks to our feathered friends.

It was an unexpected surprise. Had we not installed the birdfeeders with sunflower seed, our little friends would not have been able to have planted these gifts.

Three bright, happy sunflowers, that gave me joy every day they were here.

Dragonfly sails by,
hints of ocean blue–
he sails away, sun beats down,
leaves me with the image of
steady, beating wings, and an ocean
of possibilities.

A few nights ago, the way the light layered and sliced through the clouds, against the stark industrial structures, captivated my gaze.

We’ve had some stunning sunsets and peaceful days.

This morning I’m enjoying a cup of tea in the backyard. As I listen to the bird chatter, dark clouds roll back to blue skies and sunshine.

I went near to where the bird feeder was and sat amongst the potted plants sitting very still. I was still enough for the birds to feel comfortable to come to the feeder. I could hear the ruffle of wings as they flitted from tree to tree, feeling at ease, as I savored a meditative sip of this moment.

Sun shines down; I soak in every ray–a much needed energy boost before going back to work. The breeze is refreshing, but now it’s time for shade! Just needed a short visit to the page to find my center.

Depending on which route I take to work, I am either constantly trying to see the wondrous clouds illuminated with sunlight through the rear window mirror or I’m looking over my shoulder, taking peeks as I drive by on the open road.

This day in particular, something in the quality of the light and the soft tones made me see–made me feel that this was God. I could see the large flat brush in his hands as he streaked it across the backdrop of blue light that he first laid down, and because this was God’s brush, it looked alive, the light danced behind that long line of cloud, luminescent; so simple, yet so profound, causing a movement in my soul. I wanted to capture it, but in a way it’s best I couldn’t. I could only surrender to the moment, soak in every bit of it before it disappeared.