becoming

this is what is known as a liminal phase.

no longer a flower, not yet a fruit; a thing that is between stages is nothing...nothing but becoming.

woodpath

well, i'm back to earth now...

between the imperturbable stones, under the leaves of last year 
from moss, nature's hardy optimist
arise, peaceable blades, and salute your lord sun
the march of seasons calls for rank upon rank to rise
and cover this earth in summer's green

firelanche

i thought it bore repeating - a most singular experience, but not a singular posting.

the serenity of this pure and silent place, and i, aloft in this boundless celestial dome. the sheer vastness of the stage sunset's avalanche of silent fire raged across, as it swept away the veil which bars the starry heavens from mortal eye.

i quite forgot i'd been in coach for 4 hours.

skysea

new perspectives - they can make all the difference. above the storm, the moon shines silent and serene on a calm sea of clouds.

the gift of flight gives humanity - and their attendant tiny observers - the chance to see this miraculous perspective; to look down upon the world and see the familiar borders of every map to be nonexistent. to see up into the boundaryless sky and think, not even the sky is the limit.

bliss

it's not just the way the light shines at once on and through the water

or the way all the colors of its surroundings seem to dance within the stream

not merely the vibrant colors and contrasts of clay pot and bright, broad leaves

nor the way the soil sparkles darkly in its saturation

neither is it the rich smell of wet soil, or even the subtle hose-pipe/watering-can smell of cool water

it is standing in the sunlight, these sensations coming at me all at once; it is that which makes this my favorite part of the day.