What keeps you from walking outside and letting the outdoors embrace you with its magic? Nothing? Great! It’s a powerful dose of medicine to be outdoors (I never understand walking on a treadmill looking out the window at a beautiful day on the other side of the glass).
You can’t make up this stuff. One day, a few Septembers ago, when I worked a couple days a week behind the desk of an RV Park, where I was often amazed and puzzled, saddened or simply weary of the things people said to me (captive as I was) I jotted down their remarks as soon as they turned to leave; opening statement only. Without finishing the conversations than ensued, you get the gist. Without filter or embellishment, this represents a couple hours of what filled the page, each line a different guest: I don’t mean to complain but you
You couldn’t help but notice the moon last night on our walk. From the trees above us there were birds we couldn’t see chirping and calling to one another. The air was a perfect cool temperature. But, ahhh, it was the moon that captivated us. ” You know, Monday, the moon will make its closest approach to Earth in 68 years,”said my husband. He often carries interesting bits of information like this around with him. And he knows I love our world at night and am entranced with the moon and her constant compansionship with all of us. So the
We went to the gardens the other night to enjoy the sunset because it’s such a beautiful way to end the day. How often do we enjoy them? Not often enough, I’m afraid. It often takes some intention, especially to pack up a drink or two, a snack or two, and to take time to specifically observe an event that occurs so regularly we can easily overlook it. I brought paints and captured some of the beauty around us there in the garden. We enjoyed the play of light on the rain curtain water sculpture as it slowly faded from
I walked up a fallow “Rhododendron Hill” yesterday at the park. It was brown and quiet. There were no frilly, exquisite Irises present when I reached the top.
Do not ask your children, grown or young (or your grandchildren, if you have them) to strive for extraordinary lives.
I walked through a forest of pines last week. The evergreen scent was delicious and the cool, wet air was invigorating. I’ve camped and hiked and slept in forests. Too many to count.
Have you ever stood at the base of a Redwood? Walked a path through a cathedral of Sequoia? Read in the shade of an Oak? Leaned against the trunk of a backyard tree at night when trees can feel your wishes?