Murphy’s Point; an overcast, eerily still autumn day. Our woodland walk, unbidden, becomes a meditation on the interconnectedness of all things.
Living rock, underpinning, defining, evolving so slowly that we perceive only inertia and stasis. Each metamorphic striation has a distinctive character, encourages colonization by different trees and plants. These, in turn, support specific populations of insects, birds, reptiles and mammals.
To walk through these micro-zones mindfully is to experience the web of life, woven in wonder!
Flakes of mica dust glitter along the path to the old mine . . .
Human habitation was defined first and foremost by the bounty of the earth. Whether in the fecundity of fertile loam in which to harvest wild plants or cultivate crops or in veins rich with mineral wealth, our lives too are shaped by rock; by what lies within and by that to which it gives life.
I am awed by this deep knowing of my own rootedness in the very fabric of the earth!
In our increasingly urbanized world, we set great store by ‘independence’. Surely it is no coincidence that depression and anxiety are so pervasive when so many of us live so distanced from the pulse of life; our disconnection leaches colour from our internal worlds, rendering us so very alone.
Trees at Thanksgiving
Here stand beech and maple
to cradle the embers of summer
that fall to the forest floor,
blanketing it in red and gold
against the winter cold.
Here groves of hemlock,
limbs hung low
to cherish the memories of darkness
that cling to swampen ground,
sheltering it from light and chill,
comforting, peaceful, still.
~ October 8, 2018 - Thanksgiving Day