One of the biggest problems for me being me, is that I'm an energetically sensitive person who needs to breathe in and experience the energies of the natural wild world - you know, grass, trees, wind, dirt - all that stuff. Actually, THAT'S not the problem. The problem is I live in a city. A big one. The majority of the ground is covered in concrete, there's concrete everywhere! And cars! I can't escape the constant drone of cars. I can't smell the earth. I can only take so much of this before I start feeling like I'm withering away and shrinking, like my soul is dieing away. Sometimes my craving for the natural earth is as strong as any chocolate craving!
Today was such a day. I walked down to my babysitting gig - still don't have a car - and part way there I got a text that I wasn't needed after all. Fine. I've been working really hard lately, pushing myself with this website and confined to my cave. Part of my route parallels a small river, more like a creek really. Old, old trees, very tall and very full, guard this little river. Floods have eroded the ground beneath some of them causing them to tilt toward the water. As I was passing, and thinking/stressing about everything I had to do, a strong gust of wind blew through the trees way above my head. It was cleansing, it was the sound of Heaven. I stopped to look up and to listen. Crunchy yellow and brown leaves drifted toward the earth below. I knew some would be landing on the water. More wind. Before I knew it - or could talk myself out of it - was over the guard rail and heading down the steep embankment. The going wasn't too bad, I used the cemented sand bags as make shift (albeit slippery) steps. I'd seen geese, ducks, turtles and even a hawk and an otter down there before. (This was the place I'd once considered releasing Buntah.) I sat. I could see the fish ripples, gently rolling along the top of the water, the rings melting into one another. I could hear the flip splash of fish breaking the surface looking for food. I could also see the junk - old mangled tires and wheels of every kind, discarded underwear and socks dangling damp in bushes, hubcaps, shopping carts, diapers, crumpled bottles, bits of magazines, wire grates - all that city type detritus. I tried hard to look past it. I looked up into the trees and watched them being played with by the wind, softly. Every now and then a yellow leaf would break away and free fall through the branches, if I listened hard, I could hear them running into other leaves and branches on the way down. Some of them actually made it to the water, floated gently on the top. I watched for fish, turtles, anything to remind me the earth was still abundant with life. And then quick as a flash, I'd wonder what kind of large mutant creature was going to come lunging out at me, and stressing thoughts would go bounding through my brain. I tried to drown out all city noises. Being so far down from the road, I didn't hear the steady drone of cars, just the frequent passers driving over a grate - thump, thump, thump thump - in the road. I was unsuccessful ignoring the bulldozer next door too. When the wind blew I cold smell the trees, Eucalyptus, Aspen, Pines, Sycamores and others. I cold sort of smell the earth. And then I noticed the reflection of the trees and sky on the water. I'd been so busy looking INTO the water, I almost missed the most beautiful part! This was an unexpected treat. My heart caught itself up and I held my breath as the skin on my arms prickled with goose bumps. Now there was an all over full body smile and even a shiver! But dang, here came a blasted water snake slicing through the reflection and sending chills of another nature through my body! Yep, all chance of reverie was lost.
So, where did that leave me? With a moment of wonderful shine but not quite the refill I need. If only I could've taken the sound of the wind in the trees home with me, that would have helped. The sound felt like it swept right through me, washing away the tedious gunk inside. I climbed back up the bank, hit the road, turned the corner and got blasted with the honking, the cars on asphalt, doors slamming, stoplights blinking, muffled humanity noises, car exhaust and concrete everywhere I turned.
Right now, it's late, I'm in my cave, been writing for hours. Ginger, my Border Collie, is asleep on the bed beside me and Buntah - my little toad friend is a cold little round ball of life on my lap, she's just chillin'. Oh God, terrible pun, sorry, couldn't help myself.
Today was such a day. I walked down to my babysitting gig - still don't have a car - and part way there I got a text that I wasn't needed after all. Fine. I've been working really hard lately, pushing myself with this website and confined to my cave. Part of my route parallels a small river, more like a creek really. Old, old trees, very tall and very full, guard this little river. Floods have eroded the ground beneath some of them causing them to tilt toward the water. As I was passing, and thinking/stressing about everything I had to do, a strong gust of wind blew through the trees way above my head. It was cleansing, it was the sound of Heaven. I stopped to look up and to listen. Crunchy yellow and brown leaves drifted toward the earth below. I knew some would be landing on the water. More wind. Before I knew it - or could talk myself out of it - was over the guard rail and heading down the steep embankment. The going wasn't too bad, I used the cemented sand bags as make shift (albeit slippery) steps. I'd seen geese, ducks, turtles and even a hawk and an otter down there before. (This was the place I'd once considered releasing Buntah.) I sat. I could see the fish ripples, gently rolling along the top of the water, the rings melting into one another. I could hear the flip splash of fish breaking the surface looking for food. I could also see the junk - old mangled tires and wheels of every kind, discarded underwear and socks dangling damp in bushes, hubcaps, shopping carts, diapers, crumpled bottles, bits of magazines, wire grates - all that city type detritus. I tried hard to look past it. I looked up into the trees and watched them being played with by the wind, softly. Every now and then a yellow leaf would break away and free fall through the branches, if I listened hard, I could hear them running into other leaves and branches on the way down. Some of them actually made it to the water, floated gently on the top. I watched for fish, turtles, anything to remind me the earth was still abundant with life. And then quick as a flash, I'd wonder what kind of large mutant creature was going to come lunging out at me, and stressing thoughts would go bounding through my brain. I tried to drown out all city noises. Being so far down from the road, I didn't hear the steady drone of cars, just the frequent passers driving over a grate - thump, thump, thump thump - in the road. I was unsuccessful ignoring the bulldozer next door too. When the wind blew I cold smell the trees, Eucalyptus, Aspen, Pines, Sycamores and others. I cold sort of smell the earth. And then I noticed the reflection of the trees and sky on the water. I'd been so busy looking INTO the water, I almost missed the most beautiful part! This was an unexpected treat. My heart caught itself up and I held my breath as the skin on my arms prickled with goose bumps. Now there was an all over full body smile and even a shiver! But dang, here came a blasted water snake slicing through the reflection and sending chills of another nature through my body! Yep, all chance of reverie was lost.
So, where did that leave me? With a moment of wonderful shine but not quite the refill I need. If only I could've taken the sound of the wind in the trees home with me, that would have helped. The sound felt like it swept right through me, washing away the tedious gunk inside. I climbed back up the bank, hit the road, turned the corner and got blasted with the honking, the cars on asphalt, doors slamming, stoplights blinking, muffled humanity noises, car exhaust and concrete everywhere I turned.
Right now, it's late, I'm in my cave, been writing for hours. Ginger, my Border Collie, is asleep on the bed beside me and Buntah - my little toad friend is a cold little round ball of life on my lap, she's just chillin'. Oh God, terrible pun, sorry, couldn't help myself.