Soaking in Texas

All beauty of this world is wet with the dew of tears.

Theodor Haecker

The morning after a stormy night

a few raindrops linger

and a silent fog rolls in

Love is not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind.

John Galsworthy

I had a great time visiting my family in Fort Worth this week. The weather was unusually cloudy and rainy for spring in Texas, but not unwelcome -the wildflowers are more abundant than I’ve ever seen them this year. It was a short visit. Now I’m blowing on down the road like a wild seed on a wild wind.

Hope your week was beautiful Thank you for to everyone who shared your photos experimenting with frames! Keep on sending! Maybe they will end up in a future post. Love to you all. See you next week.

An absolute

patience.

Trees stand

up to their knees in

fog…

Denise Levertov

Waking up to the Moon

The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.

Frederic Lawrence Knowles

02/23/24 Friday morning - the moon by itself

02/23/24 Friday Morning - the moon, in context, in the western sky

02/24/24 Saturday morning - golden light on her face

02/25/2024 Sunday morning, falling into the field

02/26/24 - Monday, between the branches of a tree

The earth, in fair and grateful exchange, pays back to the moon an illumination similar to that which it receives from her throughout nearly all the darkest gloom of the night.

Galileo Galilei

In a field in Texas,

in the early morning light -

I watch the moon descending.

Old friend of earth,

she bonds me to

all who see,

or have ever seen

her radiant face -

in our lineage

of wonder.

Visiting family in Texas this week. I woke up every morning to see the moon, to have a little quiet time outside to myself. I realized while I was standing out there in the field watching the moon descend in the west, and the sun rise in the east - that people have been doing this for thousands of years. It made me feel connected to a long line of dreamers…including you.

Thank you so much for being here. Love y’all.

…and while the moon was setting in the west - all week - the sun rose on the opposite side of the field.

Morning Ritual

When we do what we love, again and again, our life comes to hold the fragrance of that thing.

Wayne Muller

I wake in the dark of morning

and wherever in the world I am -

I walk outdoors.

Morning calls.

I feel the breath of it

on my skin,

hear its music,

the sound of waking birds,

filling my ears.

My mind is quiet.

Worry has not woken.

Only wonder walks with me,

as I watch the moon

departing,

and the first light of dawn

breaking over the fields;

into the trees.

No matter what the day

before has brought me -

No matter what dreams

haunted my sleep -

I wake in the dark of morning

and wherever in the world I am

I walk outdoors.

Morning calls.

Sunrise through barbed wire and a thorny vine

I hear the sound of birds singing above me

Texas sun blazing through the bare oak branches

View fullsize

A starling sings from the top of the utility pole, silhouetted against the gradually lightening sky.

Every morning it’s a little different - a haze on the horizon softens the edges of light

A big buck staring across the field toward the rising sun

Above the trees in the big Texas sky

The sacred is not in heaven or far away. It is all around us, and small human rituals can connect us to its presence. And of course the greatest challenge (and gift) is to see the sacred in each other.

Alma Luz Villanueva

I had to make a road trip to Texas this week - it was quickly thrown together, and it could have felt rushed and stressful, except for my daily pre-dawn walk outdoors. There is always this quiet time before the sun rises, when I can be outside and walk in peace, before worries or plans begin to fill my mind. I go out in cold, in rain, in snow, in wind, in heat -whatever the weather. It is harder to do somedays than others, but I never regret doing it. It is a ritual that comforts me by making every place I go feel familiar. Wherever there is a morning, I am home.

Hope your week was beautiful too. See you next week.

The waning moon in the early morning hours, just before sunrise in Texas