showing itself ever… only a tender cocoon… readying us for the life… yet to come.
Sometimes that is the way of nature, I know, some things are born and survive, and some simply don’t.
Instead of getting weary… I’m waking up. Coming out of that strange sort of summer sleepwalk, emerging like a hibernating bear of southern latitudes.
for an endless instant,
to stop, this miracle in motion,
nature’s hidden, fragile light,
beautiful and boundless…
I dove right in to the challenge the house and those gardens presented. And the love of it all spread and thrived inside me.
So I have only recently come to grasp that moving forward… means I have to stop looking back so often toward the ground.
then comes the wind, dry and dusty, carrying my thoughts, like grains of sand, to points unknown…
It’s become a lesson for me in impermanence: How something can exist one moment or for years and be gone in an instant.
I feel more connected to the night now, less alone in it. I feel like I even see it through different eyes.
There is almost no place to hide in the desert. It is open, honest, impartial…soft as sand and hard as stone.