Streaming

It occurs to me now that the word “streaming” has a different meaning than it once did, but I return to the original meaning of sitting by a stream, and listening, and being moved by rhythm and sounds.

As Carl Perkins said, If it weren’t for the rocks in its bed, the stream would have no song, and sitting, sauntering, and exploring yesterday, I heard a multitude of songs.  The wind sang, too, and the falling leaves, each one twirling like a butterfly in a slow and languid descent.

I took Obi Kaufman’s advice and drove four miles to Cascade Canyon and walked up to Cascade Falls.  A picture can’t capture Mother Earth’s flow but perhaps some of the photos capture the light on the stream. I can’t share the smells of autumn oaks and bays but again imagine an inhalation so deep, there is no beginning and end, only connection that circles a whole.

There are also Three Wells where I used to take my children to dip and swim in summer. All is quiet now, this harvest time of year.

The lower part of the stream in autumn, a gentle slip

One of the wells in which to drop

Walk with me

Wisdom rises in Redwood Tree Trunks

Cascade Falls

Surrender and flow


Mother Earth offers her gifts

Frog rock praying

A slow caress to join the bay


Human Ingenuity at Malugani Tires


Nature

Life is the art of drawing without an eraser. – John W. Gardner

I wake to the sound of jays, not roosters,  announcing the day. Last night the moon was a blaze, and she will get brighter and brighter until the Harvest Moon on Friday the  13th.

Yesterday I saw Obi Kaufman speak.  It was like being in the presence of a young John Muir.  If he doesn’t walk/hike 100 miles a week, specifically in CA backcountry,  he gets depressed. He arrived outfitted in hat, jeans, and hiking boots.

I love his book The California Field Atlas. His latest is The State of Water. It’s smaller, more focused, and more accessible to all ages, specifically the youngsters we need to reach.  His plan is to write a book on each of the elements, says we humans are fire, and yes, we know the positives and negatives of fire.

He says we should call it “climate breakdown” as there’s always been change but this is a breakdown.  On the other hand, it’s not to panic, but to work with ourselves first, to bring ourselves to unity and peace. We are being divided by those who benefit financially from division and fear.  Before we can address the environmental issues of the day, we need to address ourselves, as we too, are the natural world.

Therefore, find a stream, take your shoes off, and dip in to quiet, to the sounds and songs of birds, water, and trees.  

The following is from his article “How to Get the Most Of Your Time Outside” from Sunset Magazine’s article WILD GIFTS.

First, get out of your car.   “The more you look, the more there is. Nature is magic like that.”

Second, read a book.  “Books are trails that uncover the nature of thought itself.”  He lists authors to read.

Third, watch for patterns. “Widen the lens, investigate larger trends in the ecology around you.”

Fourth, join a Land Trust.  Volunteer on a piece of land that matters to you.

The fifth comes first though. Don’t panic and add fear to the already frenetic energy of the world. Several times a day, rest in nature, your own nature, shoes off, breathing deeply.  Recognize and honor that we ourselves are the natural world.  

His website is here: https://coyoteandthunder.com

My mantra lately is this haiku by Issa.  It allows me to slow, receive, and taste, each moment divided into petals even as it’s held in a bouquet.

This morning I rose, received the touch of feet meeting floor. When I slipped off my nightie, then allowed a blouse to flow over my head, shoulders, and arms, I was showered with bliss, and now I wear a magisterial cape. I am a law unto myself. I know how to live and integrate. I float, carried, a cricket, singing.


On a branch

floating downriver

a cricket, singing

Kobayashi Issa 

The tides flow in and out of the bay


A Time to Birth

In the Northern hemisphere, it’s the first day of spring, one welcomed by a “super worm equinox moon”.  I sat outside last night and watched as the earth’s turning allowed me to see the full moon rise.  I felt how clearly love can’t be confined to likes and dislikes. It’s to embrace, embraced, this world we share, even when so much appears unfathomable.  We’re here to open our view and expand with generosity our response.


My neighbor Jeanine Aguerre opened her eyes, ears, and sensitivity this morning when she walked out her door and heard shrieks coming from a pine tree.  Interpreting the sounds as a love song, she grabbed her camera and took these photos of two hawks.


I’m inspired to celebrate spring by allowing my dreams to come together and build a nest, hatch, feed, and wing!