I heard a thrum of wings behind me and turned to see a Western scrub jay atop the tall, wooden front gate. “Hello, lovely,” I smiled, and continued with my Qigong practice, barefoot on the cool red bricks. For a moment he sat there, observing, possibly looking for the dogs, then flew just over my
The sea is rumbling and agitated. Even a half mile away in a quiet neighborhood dense with evergreen trees, I hear its low voice, timeless and primordial, louder than normal. I have been feeling restless, myself, and burdened by carrying a basket of grumbles that I wish I could lay aside. What I need is to sit
It never fails. Even after a relatively short immersion in wild nature, I am transformed. When I started up the dusty path from the trailhead, I felt constricted in a calcified shell of modern containment; irritable, burdened, and somewhat prickly
Amid the trees, the dry, sage-like aromas of the lower canyon trail transform. Here the air is not only cooler by several degrees but suddenly tinged with mossy notes and a scent of green-tea, catapulting me to other places and other wanderings.
After days of cold, grey rain, I needed to get out and walk. Opening the gate in the tall deer fence, I stepped through into the soggy field with its newly sprouted carpet of vividly green English wheat. The sky shimmered blue overhead and a sheer, golden light illuminated the bare trees and the rolling