Acquiescence's in the woods and patience at the Beach
At certain times of the day when I walk in the woods there others that walk at set time. Me I'm out there at all hours, I use to only be there at 6:30 till about 8:00 but that has changed over the years. Now I go when ever...and really enjoying seeing all the other out there.
A family group of Europeans, not sure what nationality they are and it doesn't matter because there a happy family...three little ones, two moms, a grandmother and grandfather in the back with the stroller just in case some one poop's out and needs a ride I guess..Oh and there dog too. We nod and wave hi as we pass each other. Really it's an wonderful sight to see.
Then there's the two older gentlemen, one with a pug who is on a mission and don't bother him and then the other Gentleman with his puggle/ pug-beagle mixed. They walk fast...and I see a few walking couples out there too. But I crossed paths with Rick the guy that lives on the edge of the woods. He walks his Brittany Spaniel and knows a lot about the wood property and the old man that willed to the forest preserve some years back..well he's going to be moving...Had Open heart surgery...my gosh I thought...wow 61 and the pumper is ca putts.. We chatted for a while...I would love to live that close to the woods but it's not going to be possible...I'm just grateful that I can go there and walk and be part of the wild life and regain my balance there just a short ways away from home.
Words The Beach- Gift from the Sea
One is forced against one's mind, against all tidy resolutions, back into the primeval rhythms of the sea-shore. Rollers on the beach, wind in the pines, the slow flapping of herons across sand dunes, drown out the hectic rhythms of city and suburb, time tables and schedules. One falls under their spill, relaxes, stretches out prone. One becomes, in fact like the element on which one lies, flattened by the sea; bare, open, empty as the beach, erased by today's tides of all yesterday's scribblings.
I posted this because when I walk in to the woods there is a ritual of entry I find myself going through. The letting go of all that baggage of time tables and schedules.
Anne's last sentence of the chapter is this. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and Faith. One should lie empty, open, choice less as a beach-waiting for the gifts from the sea.
To let go and be present in the moment does take patience and faith...
A family group of Europeans, not sure what nationality they are and it doesn't matter because there a happy family...three little ones, two moms, a grandmother and grandfather in the back with the stroller just in case some one poop's out and needs a ride I guess..Oh and there dog too. We nod and wave hi as we pass each other. Really it's an wonderful sight to see.
Then there's the two older gentlemen, one with a pug who is on a mission and don't bother him and then the other Gentleman with his puggle/ pug-beagle mixed. They walk fast...and I see a few walking couples out there too. But I crossed paths with Rick the guy that lives on the edge of the woods. He walks his Brittany Spaniel and knows a lot about the wood property and the old man that willed to the forest preserve some years back..well he's going to be moving...Had Open heart surgery...my gosh I thought...wow 61 and the pumper is ca putts.. We chatted for a while...I would love to live that close to the woods but it's not going to be possible...I'm just grateful that I can go there and walk and be part of the wild life and regain my balance there just a short ways away from home.
Words The Beach- Gift from the Sea
One is forced against one's mind, against all tidy resolutions, back into the primeval rhythms of the sea-shore. Rollers on the beach, wind in the pines, the slow flapping of herons across sand dunes, drown out the hectic rhythms of city and suburb, time tables and schedules. One falls under their spill, relaxes, stretches out prone. One becomes, in fact like the element on which one lies, flattened by the sea; bare, open, empty as the beach, erased by today's tides of all yesterday's scribblings.
I posted this because when I walk in to the woods there is a ritual of entry I find myself going through. The letting go of all that baggage of time tables and schedules.
Anne's last sentence of the chapter is this. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and Faith. One should lie empty, open, choice less as a beach-waiting for the gifts from the sea.
To let go and be present in the moment does take patience and faith...
love hearing about your walks. nice...
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