Grass pollen early this year prompted mowing all weekend and Monday in the dry. Mulch mowing the pasture is my going to the gym along with the motions of most other tasks these days.
So, Wednesday afternoon’s rain with morning driz have returned the wet, so green this time of year. Will need to do it again this season, whenever that may be.
The prayer flags are faded and tattered and now very wet. Hopefully they will be replaced by the next post…of catching up with this one.
So I find that drumming with a rattle and beater in hand really does the trick. Both handles are slim madrone branches and fit comfortably into my loose grip for easy 15 minute plus sessions of ecstatic wisdom postures. The journeys vary, if not so much at all, and are meaningful in many respects. Drumming with rattle currently seems to be my strongest suit, so the beat foes on.
Now some very light sprinkles from the clouded skies on the eleventh of July 2015 as the salmonberry thrushes’ song reverberates over and through the meadow outside surrounded by forested wetlands. Just a few weeks ago around the twenty fifth of last month as I sat out on the back deck admiring my handywork of construction of posts, beam and rafters in the warm evening after a hot afternoon I became aware of long white clouds in the blue sky to the north above the trees in my view past the rafters. A high flying jet several times paralleled the growing row of long white clouds leaving a white trail that grew into a long white cloud like the others.
Actually seeing this happening after reading and hearing about massive ongoing geoenginnering projects continuing with no public notice whatsoever….was a mind blower. I looked out the other side of the house and saw the same clouds and jet spraying to the west. Others must have noticed …so many around nowadays, and growing.
I am upset and would really prefer not to breathe toxic air contaminations…paid for with tax dollars And the thrushes sing on..and on. And the solar radiation management geoengineering goes on and on and on.
Upon reflection, side becomes inside. With apologies to Ray Manzarek, seeking outside is quieted with the deep and gentle breathing of meditation to access the inner wisdom of the soul.
Back in Sequim during the late 50’s, Uncle Neuman, toothpick between teeth, liked singing along to the radio version of Que sera, sera as he drove us down the road in his Studebaker to one of his favorite fishing spots. The refrain has been with me since and has acquired deeper meaning along my personal journey. This morning, listening to the June rainfall and bird songs from the womb of my bed refreshes and soothes my soul. Just for today be anger free, be worry free, be grateful, work hard, and be kind to others. Whatever will be, will be.
Let’s begin anew again.