I took a little side trip on the way home yesterday when the sun was still shining. It isn't today. I hear that a storm is on its way, and like clockwork, the sky gets heavier and darker. Of course, this is to be expected, beings how it's past mid November. I for one, lament the letting go of summer and early fall glory. It could be said that I whine and grumble about this phase.
The road I took winds up a canyon, crooks along side a tributary to the Rushing River. If I were to follow this road for an hour or so, I would circle around, up, down and over, ending up at my front door. No where am I far from home. I met about 15 individual gravel trucks coming out of the canyon, which was interesting since it is a one-way road in many places. Fortunately I am confident of using dirt turn-outs, and the truck drivers where very friendly with smiles and waves. I know, I was thinking that too: "Lady! Get home!"
I rhapsodise about the Buck Eye. I love this tree in every season. It is just special in my eye. I am awed by how aesthetic it is, regardless of season, weather, terrain.
This one landed in the crevice of a rock, and there she is.
Which reminds me: I have discovered that Daniel Landinsky has a new book of Hafiz out, and I cannot wait to get my hands upon it asap. I Heard God Laughing is the title.
I have learned so much from God that I can no longer call myself
a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Jew.
The truth has shared so much of itself with me that I can no longer
think of myself as a man, a woman, an angel, or even pure soul.
Existence has become so saturated with laughter it has freed me of every
concept and image a mind could ever war with.
I call this as lucky as a person can get.