Yesterday, I went to a Tulip Festival at the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm in Woodburn, Oregon. I didn’t tiptoe there; we drove. My fantasy and hope was that I would be able to photograph the rows of colorful blooms from up, up, and away in a hot air balloon.
However, looking at the clouds from both sides, it became evident that stormy weather would mean that the hot air balloons would be grounded.
It was the last day of the festival, and I learned that soon the blooms would be cut to ensure that the plants’ resources would be stored in the bulbs for harvest later. In a short time, coming across these rows of decapitated tulips, you might wonder “where have all the flowers gone?”.
We ended up spending only a hour at the festival, seeking shelter from the intermittent rain by driving country roads singing along to my John Denver CD. The reality of the adventure was not at all similar to any expectations I had, but I think the outcome was in perfect harmony with the circles that I find in the windmills of my mind.
Thanks to Egidio for this super creative Challenge!! Click HERE to see his inspiring idea illustrated in beautiful photos.
Respect and reverence for the natural world seems to me a fundamental response to the age-old human questions, “Who am I?” and “What am I doing here?” We are elementally Earth Beings, located in space, looking to orient our lives in some sustainable balance. Traditions that honor the Four Directions speak of Rock or Earth as the element to the North.
“There is stability here, the ground of our being. The north represents the place that holds us, that allows us time and space to heal and grow, to feel nurtured and respected. It is also the place of embodiment, of connecting with our physical self, with the concrete, tangible world around us. The north calls to you if you are seeking balance, the deep wisdom that lives in your bones, a place of rest and recovery.” – Julia Hamilton
Inaugural Poem (excerpt) – Maya Angelou
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since departed, Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here On our planet floor, Any broad alarm of their hastening doom Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully, Come, you may stand upon my Back and face your distant destiny, But seek no haven in my shadow.
I will give you no more hiding place down here.
You, created only a little lower than The angels, have crouched too long in The bruising darkness, Have lain too long Face down in ignorance.
Your mouths spilling words Armed for slaughter.
The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me, But do not hide your face.
Thank you to Donna of Wind Kisses for inviting perspectives on how to Rock Your World. May you be grounded today, in balance and peace.
Water moves through everything on this planet – landscapes, plants, rocks, animals, you, and me. There are so many fascinating words for this movement: erosion, guttation, evapotranspiration, infiltration, percolation, perspiration, etc., etc.
The movement of water touches everything and transforms it somehow. Everything around us is in a state of flow.
“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” ― Alan Wilson Watts
Running Water – by Alfonsina Storni (translated by Muna Lee)
Yes, I move, I live, I wander astray— Water running, intermingling, over the sands. I know the passionate pleasure of motion; I taste the forests; I touch strange lands.
Yes, I move—perhaps I am seeking Storms, suns, dawns, a place to hide. What are you doing here, pale and polished— You, the stone in the path of the tide?
“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke
photo credit: Josh Galasso
Thank you, Sofia, for inviting us into the discovery of Water in Motion. Click HERE to see her Lens-Artists Challenge.
“From the day we arrive on the planet And, blinking, step into the sun
There’s more to see than can ever be seen More to do than can ever be done There’s far too much to take in here More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round
It’s the circle of life And it moves us all Through despair and hope Through faith and love ‘Til we find our place On the path unwinding In the circle The circle of life.” – Carmen Twillie and Lebo M
I spent the last 10 days circling back to Wisconsin to care for my eldest adult child after surgery. Enfolding her in my arms, comforting her, and kissing her good-night brought my heart and soul to a place of simple purpose and wonder-filled peace. In the circle of life, caring for each other, loving wholeheartedly, is the wheel that keeps us moving forward, generation by generation. I guess I still believe that Love makes the world go ’round.
Thank you, Ann-Christine, for a round world of beautiful images on your challenge! See it HERE.
Turn the beat around Love to hear percussion Turn it upside down Love to hear percussion Love to hear it
Blow horns you sure sound pretty Your violins keep movin’ to the nitty gritty When you hear the scratch of the guitars scratchin’ Then you’ll know that rhythm carries all the action – recorded by Gloria Estefan
I love to get my heart thumping and my feet moving, my arms swinging and my voice ringing, especially with people I know and love, who won’t judge me for my extra silliness but will join in with their own energy and encouragement. That kind of collective joy is absolutely a thrill of sound.
And then…
I love to retreat to the ocean, to hear the pulse of the Earth’s life blood, the waters ebbing and flowing, receding and crashing, the screech of the seagull’s hunger, and the exhalation of the wind. It is a thrill to be alive and to hear the living Earth.
And then…
The sound of familiar soft breathing. A heart beating surely and steadily nearby. The whispering sounds of restfulness and peace, the hum of the ceiling fan, the assurance that all is well.
I dedicate this post to my late husband, Jim, a musician who resonated in the sounds of Life with me for 30 years and died on February 16, 2008.
This challenge is inspired by Donna of Wind Kisses. Click HERE to listen in.
Many public places, and some private ones, contain a finely tuned meteorological instrument known as a “Weather Rock”. To many observers, it appears to be an ordinary stone hanging by a rope to a tripod. Here’s how it works:
If the rock is wet, it’s raining.
If the rock is swinging, the wind is blowing.
If the rock casts a shadow, the sun is shining.
If the rock does not cast a shadow and is not wet, the sky is cloudy.
If the rock is difficult to see, it is foggy.
If the rock is white, it is snowing.
If the rock is coated with ice, there is a frost.
If the ice is thick, it’s a heavy frost.
If the rock is bouncing, there is an earthquake.
If the rock is under water, there is a flood.
If the rock is warm, it is sunny.
If the rock is missing, there was a tornado.
If the rock is wet and swinging violently, there is a hurricane.
If the rock can be felt but not seen, it is night time.
If the rock has white splats on it, watch out for birds!!
In my experience, the Weather Rock is as accurate as any other instrument in defining the conditions present.
“Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” – Herodotus, in reference to Persian mounted postal couriers, circa 500 B.C.E.
I am grateful to have been able to experience the thrill of weather that changes. My years in Southern California were not my favorite. Perhaps I grew bored each time I lived through “another ho-hum day in Paradise”. I truly missed the awe-inspiring daily reminders that the world and the weather are bigger than I am. The summer thunderstorms, the months of snow and cold, the humidity that persisted after sundown – all of those Midwest weather events created the variety and patterns of life that were rich and interesting. And the Oregon rain creates a rainforest more abundant with life than I could ever have imagined. I love having “weathered” living in the northern part of this country!
Thanks to Anne Sandler for hosting this week’s challenge. Visit her post HERE.
In darkness — I slow down I look within I care for myself I comfort myself I pour out love I breathe in love I make peace with being alone
I wrote those lines at the Unitarian Universalist Winter Solstice service a month ago when prompted to consider the gift of Darkness. It was certainly a challenge to contemplate the shadow side of life as a positive thing. I feel oriented towards the Sun in so many ways — an August birthday, a “morning person”, uncomfortable at night driving, a Californian for 15 years — yet Night can create a cocoon that births creation in beautiful ways.
“Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry Sunshine on the water looks so lovely Sunshine almost always makes me high” — John Denver
We are approaching that season in the Wheel of the Year known as Imbolc, halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox, which falls on February 1. From now until that day, daylight in my area of the globe will increase by 10 minutes. Slowly, the Earth here is warming. Today it was close to 60 degrees F. Oh, Happy Day! Thank you, Sofia, for reminding us of the yin and yang of our Earth experience. Please visit HER POST to see this week’s challenge.
Ann-Christine’s challenge to us is to illustrate a favorite quote or poem with 1-4 photos. Donna increases the challenge by suggesting we use a poem that we wrote. I did a post back in June of 2012 featuring this poem, with a photo I took with a borrowed camera. I’m giving it a make-over now, but you can see the original post HERE.
The Sky by Priscilla Galasso
Did I ever thank you for the sky spread far around like an open field piled high with moods and structures, a playground for my soul?
This space above bids my thoughts expand to climb the heights of an anvil-cloud and teeter on the edge of a dazzling glare or slide down the shafts of the sun,
To swim to the center of its lonely blue where I find no mist to hide me, and lie exposed to the western wind like a mountain braced for sunrise.
Or clad in the shroud of brooding gray, it coaxes me to musings far removed from the minutiae that chains me to my life.
I search for light and openness to shadow the bonds of earth, exploring the vault of heaven for its meaning and its truth.
Thanks for this cathedral speaking glory through its art. Thank you for these eyes admitting Sky into my heart.
You might describe something as “magical” when it fills you with a sense of awe. Like that light that comes from the sun rising over the mountain and filtering through fog and frost to create diamond sparkles on every tiny filament of life – in the trees, on a spider’s web, on the rocks lining the river bank.
I recently heard a talk on the subject of Awe. Awe is a heart reaction to an encounter with the vast Mystery that we don’t understand. It pulls us out of our Egos, out of our selves and our realm of control, and surprises us in a moment. It is a fleeting and powerful emotion. The speaker quoted from a book by Dacher Keltner called Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life. The author describes neurobiological findings caused by an awesome experience (including an increase in strength, a decrease in inflammation, and a kinder behavioral response to people) and catalogues the main sources of Awe in a study of 26 different cultures. The primary source of Awe in this study was not a beautiful sunset or the birth of a baby. It was Moral Beauty – experiencing other peoples’ courage, kindness, or strength in overcoming hard situations.
The second source on the list was Collective Effervescence: the feeling you might get at a wedding, or a concert, or a sporting event when you are part of a crowd of humanity in the throes of joy.
The third source is Nature, outside of us or within us.
The fourth source is Music; the fifth is Visual Design, for example in architecture or landscape.
The catalogue of sources of Awe goes on to list Spiritual Experiences; Life Experiences of Birth and Death; and Moments of Epiphany. Of course, none of these sources is really “magic” or supernatural. They’re all absolutely natural. We really don’t need anything other than the real Life around us and within us and our own Willingness in order to be lifted up into Awe.
Maybe Awe is the magic that we need to transform our world into a place of strength, resilience, kindness, and joy. I believe that magic is available at any time.
Please visit our host Ann-Christine’s beautiful post to view the magic through her lens. Click HERE.
Like a fingerprint, patterns in wood grain are unique to the type of tree and the way in grows in its environment. With over 60,000 different tree species on our planet, there are a lot of variations.
“Follow the grain in your own wood.” — Howard Thurman
Similarly, in a way, the ice crystals of frost create unique patterns based on fractal process development and the variations in the surfaces on which they form.
“Frost is the greatest artist in our clime – he paints in Nature and describes in rime.” — Thomas Hood
This Unique Challenge is brought to Lens-Artists by Amy (click HERE for her post with some wonderful examples of the unique in Nature).
(and in case you didn’t see it, here’s one I posted on Wednesday that I really like…)
scillagrace 