This cairn stood quietly along the path of the Seven Hanging Valleys Walk in Praia da Marinha, a silent invitation to stop and soak in the magnificence of this part of the world–
the imposing beauty of the Atlantic bathed in the sun’s splendor,
the gentle wind caressing the ocean’s surface,
the delicate scent of pine with a whiff of brine,
earth warm in color and feel under my shoes.
A part of me wanted to sit beside the stones and stare out to sea with the same stillness, but the path was calling.
“Shall we meditate?” was what I said to hubby when I saw this bench in the woods last weekend. Not wanting to feel the questioning looks of passersby, I suggested to face the woods instead of the path.
The forest doesn’t question. It accepts my presence and what I do. It watches without judgment, just like it does for every living thing in it. It breathes in what I breathe out and I breathe in what it breathes out. The rustle of the leaves echo my thoughts which I release. Or does the act of releasing cause the rustling? I’m part of this forest, that’s what it’s telling me. The boundaries are all in my mind.
The timer went off. We stood up and moved on.
But the lesson remains.
Purple. Red. Gold. Nature wears the colors of royalty in the neighborhood. I bow to you, Mother Earth. You have my respect and love.
Oooof! It’s that kind of autumn day in the lowlands when it’s dark and grey and cold and wet. We’re having a die-hard drizzle out there and I wish I didn’t have to go out and brave the elements. Today, my tropical wimp is out in full force, but I’ve been getting my armor ready. Now I just need to put them on and get out. If I have to think about it, I’m going to call up and say, “I’m not able to make it. I’m sick. Cough. Cough.”
Thank God for warm clothes!
As I walked to the zendo last night, I saw this on the canal. Amsterdam, you really outdo yourself all the time.
I very reluctantly climbed a super steep dune with the encouragement of hubby and a helping hand on my bum every other step. It’s not easy scaling a precipitous slope especially when it’s soft sand underneath your feet. A reward awaited me at the top and when I saw it, I stopped in awe at mid-grumble. The wind took the words out of my mouth and carried them far, far away. I sat on the sand and surveyed my kingdom, for that is what it truly felt like to me after the ascent. Later that night, I asked hubby to take me there again. He smiled.
Talking to the heavens while embraced by the earth, a man and his dog were catching the last rays of the day yesterday at the park. I’m going to do this one of these days, sans the dog.