Childhood

When I was a child I would wait for the first fresh snow to cover the forest floor.
I grew up in Maryland and loved the crisp winter air and snow flakes that melted on my cold red cheeks.
My dad would insist upon us taking a walk through the thick wooded area across the street.
Excitement grew in my body as I dashed around the house. I needed my warm jeans and cozy long sleeved shirt.
My mom would help me into my pink puffy snow outfit and little snow boots. I looked like a little snow angel my dad would say. I thought I just looked like a marshmallow but my dad saw me as his little girl and I was always his angel puffy pants or not.
Jumping off of the front stoop and into the snow was my favorite part. I loved the crunchy feeling under my boots.
We always took the same little path through the woods.
As a child my dad was my hero and no matter how old I get and where I move to he still will be.
We strode along daddy's little angel and little girl's hero.
What a team we made.
Stomping through the snow and looking at the tracks of deer who had scampered deep into the woods.
I always tried to tip toe slowly in hopes to see a deer but I guess my excitement got the best of me and I always ran full speed ahead leaving little chance of seeing the deer.
My dad told me stories of when he was a kid and I told him everything I knew about myself.
Here, deep in the woods,
On these snowy winter days,
A great bond was formed between my dad and I,
I owe it all to the graceful snowflakes

[Image:http://www.canvaspicture.com/ekmps/shops/i4design/images/nt5024.jpg]

The Journey

The Journey
by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice - - -

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

'Mend my life!'

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations - - -

though their melancholy

was terrible.It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do - - - determined to save

the only life you could save.

Response:

I feel a deep connection with these words. It is almost as if she knows me. My life always seems so hectic and people around me are too demanding. I often forget to do what I need to do. I often forget who I am and fade into the background. I need to rise above the chattering voices around me and learn who I am. Learn who I can be. Learn to be me. The trick is to allow the voices to fade into the background and allow myself to come to the forefront. Allow me to be a priority. Work for myself, be myself. I know how difficult it is to explain to people why I am doing what I am doing. So I won't. I will go it alone and not fall into the trap of explanation. I will be me for me. Who will be here until I die? Who will be by my side when the worst occurs? The only answer is me. So I must protect who I am in order to stay strong. I must face the world as if nothing can stop me. I will listen to the voices around me but not let them control me. Who am I without myself? It sounds so strange to ask that question, yet I live as if it doesn't matter who I really am. Sometimes I am only a reflection of my surroundings. Like a mirror hung on the wall and manipulated by the changing scenery.

I am ready to learn who I am, not learn what other people want me to be.

Siamese

Deep glassy blue eyes.
Transfixed on a tormenting bird,
Sitting so still in a tree.
Chirping, teasing.
Siamese watching and waiting.

Little mewing comes from his mouth.
Paw stuck in the screen.
Oh to hunt and play he thinks.
Oh to be in that tree.

Black mask and little white boots.
Looking like a bandit.
Sits and waits.
Tail twitching, back straight.
Sits and waits.

So elegant and regal,
Yet a hunter to his very core.
Growling and moaning.
"Let me out" he cries.
"Let me climb the tree"
"I will return bearing gifts for my master"

A trustworthy friend. A loving companion.
A hunter who sits in the window.

Dusty Path

Feet shuffling along this dusty path.

Pebbles shooting ahead at the mercy of my feet.
Little grass blowing along the trail.
Windy road for miles ahead.
Mind drifting like the clouds above.

Sheep graze on a distant hill.
Ducks waddle and plop into the lake.
vultures swoop above looking for a corpse.

Dust fills the air. Clouding the trail.
I still know where I am going.

Stop at a large rock.

Little humming bird has found sweet blossom.
Hovering, wings a blur.
Delicious nectar.
Needled beak sips.
Iridescent feathers change with the suns rays.

Little ladybug scales thin grass.
Swaying with the breeze.
Legs dance upon the weed.
Wings raise, ladybug leaves.

Dusty trail leads me to tracks.
Train tracks, a trestle.
North to South.
Passing past the dusty trail.
Hastily taking in the scenery.
Gone, gone into tunnels.

Along steel tracks.
Nothing like the dusty trail.
Works day and night.
Rumbling, Rumbling.
Train is coming.
Out of the way, down the hill.
Watch as the train passes.
Noisy, disruptive.
Wonderful and strong.
Set in a trance I watch it disappear.
Leaving me with chirping birds and swaying trees.

Missing the excitement, the noise.
A void. It passes. I move on.

Back on the dusty trail.
To a pond.
A fisherman casts a line.
Waiting for the fish to take the bait.
Waiting, Waiting.
I never see the tugging.

Time to move on.
To follow the dusty trail,
Back to my busy life.
Away from my quiet thoughts.
Back to school, Back to class, Back to Life.

[Images: http://santalucia.sierraclub.org/StennerCrk.html]

Bumbles

Hovering
Wings a blur
Landing
Little yellow flowers
Sweet pollen upon legs
Paper thin wings
Fuzzy striped bodies
Thin black antennae
Servants to the fields

Wind
Pebble grasped tightly
Balancing
Focused on the hive

Graceful Dance
Mapping open fields
Two hills over lies a meadow
Delicious pollen
Follow the directions

Swarm
Swift transparent wings
Discovery
Meadow sweet and plentiful

Honey combs
Dripping
Oozing
Delight
A gift for the Queen

[Image: http://www.insectstings.co.uk/bees.shtml]

Speeding Cars

Sitting here, feet on table, admiring the man made and God’s creations.
The best of both worlds I call it.
Cup of coffee in hands with a deep sigh I conclude that this is the best that life has to offer.
Rush Rush Rush cars zoom by in a colorful array.
Speeding to a destination.
Do they even see me here? Do they even know how wonderful it is today?
Wind blows swiftly. I sweep the hair from my face.
Bushy green trees across the freeway.
Cover the hills and leaving no room for light to peer in.
Breeze Blowing... leaves rustling.
Trees knock against one another in a happy dance.
Growing so high towards the heavens, grasping the light and pulling it towards them.
Slivers of clouds fly overhead and cover the sun for just a moment.
Cars honk and change lanes.
Do they see the smaller tree struggling to reach the light?
Do they care?
Do they know what they are missing by not sitting here?
Where are they going?
Peaceful sun warms my body.
I can smell the coffee roasting… the aroma fills my nose as I take a sip.
Coffee has never tasted so wonderful and the sun has never shone so brightly.
Sitting alone taking in the scenery.
Should I be lonely? Should I desire the company of my friends?
Or should I enjoy one of the best days alone?
I think I will sit here alone and allow the questions to flow through my head.
I will let my mind drift into the forest and admire the strong-stable trees.
I will climb a tree and sit.
I will lye in the dirt and look up at the branches shaking in the wind.
Will the cars ever know what they are missing by rushing by?

[Image: http://www.plantzafrica.com/vegetation/forest.htm]

Green Sudsy Algae

Green sudsy algae floats upon the dimpled surface of the pond.
Fish scuttle across darting after one another hiding amongst the sudsy fog.
Larger fish watch in repose as they stand still as rocks with only a slight flick of their tails.
Leaves find their burial ground amongst on the surface.
The rocks slip into the water as if they are trying to avoid disturbances.
A waterfall splashes and sprays with a sweet sound so soothing.
White splashes of water fly from the still water and join the glass-like waterfall.
Tall green stalks with sun kissed tips shoot from the murky depths.
A tiny flowing stream mimics the powerful flow opposite it.
It glides so gracefully along the rocks that it seems to blend into the water.
Rocks shoot up and fence the little pond in, while a mature tree admires from afar.
Big waxy leaves hand like banana peels and brush the surface of the water.
They are merely dipping their feet instead of diving in.
A palm leans over the water as if to get a closer look at the energetic fish below.
The shadows of dimpling water dance along the sandy bottom.
Reflections of the rocks on the surface of the water look as if they are swimming
amongst the fish.
The water responds by climbing the rocks by reflecting itself against the rock’s surface.
The little bug-eyed fish keep their bulgy eyes on me as I write.
Slowing down for a second to admire my pen gliding across the paper and then returning
To their game of tag.
Lily pads grace the surface and make me think of the frogs that jump from one pad to
And croak with joy in the evenings.
Come with me to the pond sometime and sit amongst the rocks and watch the fish swish.

[Image:http://www.bioremediate.com/algae.htm]

Admiring the Dirt

Today I admired the dirt.
One may wonder what there is to admire.
I found plenty!
I took into account each and every crack that spread across the ground.
How did this crack get here?
Could it have been a hiker, a biker, or maybe it could have been from me?
Everyday I pass this plot of dirt and never take time to ask questions.
Who lives amongst these grains of rock?
Where has this dirt come from? I wonder if it traveled far and wide just to be stepped on.
What animals call this dirt home? Could it be that red ant or possibly a lizard?
I look more closely at the different shades of brown
What a beautiful mosaic! How many rocks created this dirt?
How many people pass each day?
Little green tufts grow from between some of the cracks even though the ground is parched.
I wonder what the dirt is hiding beneath it.
Is there a little mouse family that that woke up from hibernation preparing for the spring?
The dirt is the foundation to all that grows here yet no one really pays it any attention.
If only they looked carefully and recognized its importance.
It supports the beautiful oak tree and the powerful pine.
If there was no dirt there would be no foundation and without a foundation we would be nowhere.
I feel myself growing quite fond of this dirt and all the things it brings to my life.
I wish I thought to stop and thank it every time I passed but I think the dirt knows my gratitude because he is still holding me up.

[Image: http://www.psych.ndsu.nodak.edu/brady/CG/CG%20BG%20CRW/]

Wind

I sit amongst the tall stalks of grass that shift from side to side
I watch as they lose control
My papers rustle around until one slips from my grip and gets tossed into the air
I cannot help but watch it dance across the sky
The trees sound as if they are an ocean
Roaring...crashing waves hit the beach and then the water rolls back to sea
The wind has such a power that it can toss the tops of the trees around as if they were only leaves on the ground
Swoosh Swoosh I hear the trees fight against the wind and then give up
Little yellow flowers look like a brush stroke of paint across the green field
Clouds roll across the sky... the wind does not allow them to hang around and watch nature's dance
I watch as a bird fights against the wind
Feathers flailing and beak pushing forward
I wonder if he will make it to his destination... or will he just wait for the wind to dye down
There are very few things in the sky... I guess very few things are as brave as the battling bird.
Whoosh... a huge gust of wind surrounds me... blades of grass as tossed around and dirt fills the air
I appreciate the magnificent power the wind has over all of nature
The wind knows his abilities and uses his strong force to show off.
I know that Aldo Leopold appreciates the wind like I am on this gusty day.
He even expresses the desire to be the wind... I don't know if I could handle such a job!

[Image: http://www.wbur.org/special/dispatches/russiabikeride/photogallery/week2/]

The Kern River

Whenever life seems too difficult I let my mind wander to the Kern River. This is where I can become one with nature and not worry about the issues society has created for me. Here I can take off my shoes and sit by the river. I feel so natural, so safe, so alone, yet so spiritual. Here I contemplate what is most important to me and leave the projects that will be gone in a week. I can be as rugged and adventurous as I like. I can leave all classifications people have of me at the bottom of the river. I can wash my body clean of all the judgments and assumptions people have of me. Here I am who I want to be. Here is where I grow into who I want to be. Here is where I can showcase my best attributes. I am a strong and independent adventurer who has a knife clipped to my belt. I am a mountain climber who can't find a mountain that can't be climbed. Here I am successful for what I want to be successful for... not for a silly test. My only tests are facing my fears and overcoming my perceived weaknesses. If you want to see me in my element... where my attributes shine through... take me to the Kern. Take me into nature. Put me in the sun and you don't even have to show me a path. For here there are no paths but the ones you make. Everyone who comes to the Kern may not have the spiritual and self bettering experience that I have but the opportunity is out there. The rocky mountains are there to be climbed and the river is there to be wrestled across. I will always travel back to the Kern even when it is only in my imagination.

Ancient Wine-Bibbers

"The shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs, the sturdy spirits of ancient wine-bibbers and wassailers..."
From Thoreau's Sounds



As I sit here on my bed in the comforts of my room I can hear the croaking of the wild frogs outside. I have not been home to Calabasas in quite some time and sit here alone to appreciate the sounds. I don't remember these powerful bloated bellied animals when I last returned home for a visit. Is it the season for them to take over the grasses and spread a chorus that echos throughout the neighborhood? Or is it that I have never once just sat and listened to what they had to say? I am hoping that it is just the season for them. For if I have simply been too busy to recognizes these creatures of the night my heart will ache to reverse the clock. If anything I know that now I am taking the time to catch the repeating syllables that form meaning to these little army men who sneak through the grass. I wish that they weren't so good at hide and go seek and I would be able to go outside and watch their little necks expand with every croak. I guess there are some things in nature that only wish to be heard and intermittently seen. I will appreciate their choir and wait until they want to be seen. Why am I always wanting more than what I have been given? Isn't their wonderful choir enough? I guess that is what I need to learn to do... appreciate the little things in nature.

[Image:http://www.mlahanas.de/Greeks/LX/TheFrogs.html]

From my Blacony

Sometimes I sit out on my balcony and watch the world around me.
I can see the mountains in the background offset by the busy world.
Reminding me of the contrast between slow and fast paced lives that are only separated by a block.
Inside my apartment there are things to be done but out in the hills there are only adventures to be had.
Which do I pick? Do I go inside and get my work done or do I go examine the great outdoors.
Life is too short I think... I am going to explore. My work can wait. But the hills are always changing.
I don't want to miss a leaf from a great oak twirling and whirling to the ground.
Why miss the hawks circling the helpless rabbit below?
I can't think of a reason to put off my trip any longer.
I dash from my apartment and into the hills. I start up a trail that I know very well.
Yet it is as if ever turn of the trail is different each time I hike it.
I kick up dust behind my feet and take off for the top.
My grand idea is to sit at the top of the mountain and look out at my balcony.
Once I get to the top I ask myself, should I stay in the hills or return to the fast life?
I decide to lye down in the hills until I feel it is time to go.
I will let my day waste away in the hills and leave my worries on my balcony.


[Image:www.nature.org/.../ preserves/art9784.html]

Taking Time

I usually wouldn't give it a second.
I usually would just let it pass by.
But I heard a rustling in the brush above and I took time out to look.
I saw two deer running for safety.
I wished they would stay so I could admire their speckled little backs.
I got my wish, when I stood there still enough I heard them returning.
They kept their eyes on me for quite some time.
Not very sure what to think of me.
Was I an enemy or a friend?
Once they began to churn the bramble in their mouths again I inched closer.
I couldn't believe that they weren't moving.
I couldn't believe that they were not phased.
How close could I get to these beautiful creatures before they scamper away?
I decided not to take a chance and just sit on a patch of grass.
I usually would have taken only but a minute to appreciate such beauty.
There is a joy and a calming inside when you connect with a gentle animal.
I wanted to wait until they naturally turned and went back deep into the woods
But it was getting dark... the sun was setting on my peaceful evening.
Now every time I pass that point on my evening runs, I look for them.
There is a peace in knowing that there are animals so quiet and gentle waiting for me
And all I have to do is take the time to look up when I hear that gentle rustling in the brush.

Ducks

I stumbled upon some ducks in an unexpected place.
I was hiking along a trail and took a quick detour.
I needed an adventure... off of the beaten path.
As many have said... I took the path less traveled
I was rewarded with a new secret place.
The path ended with a creek... surrounded with tall and protective trees.
I felt safe and cool... and calm... my mind was calm.
I watched as the creek slowly trickled down stream.
Brushing against fallen branches, rocks, and moss
I wondered who else had explored down here... then I stopped.
Who cares who else has been here... right now it is mine.
Anyone else who has seen my secret place did not have the same thoughts or feelings while here.
How comforting!
I know that this is where I can come to think about anything... anything
As I sat up against a cold, damp rock I listened to all of the peaceful sounds of the day.
A chirping from a nearby tree and then I saw them!
I saw them so graceful and beautiful
I saw the ducks, two of them.
They floated by without paying me any attention.
How amazing! I can come here to be with my thoughts and simply me an observer.
Nowhere else have I felt so free to be me!
I will never disclose the location!
I am too scared that someone might not see the beauty in my new secret hideaway.

[Image:http://www.pbase.com/mkcarroll/image/28130312]

Windows

To me, windows are just humanity admitting that we would prefer to be outside.
In my apartment I always have my window shades drawn so that I can look out.
I could not even think of a building without them.
How dreary would it be?
I could not imagine simply being stuck inside a room without being able to briefly connect again with nature.

I find it a distraction however... during my hours where I must study.
I feel as if there is a magnetic force pulling me to look to the outside world.
I have been known to leave my studies and go out for a hike... simply because nature was calling me from the other side.

I believe, however, that I would be much more productive without this portal to nature.
Even at this moment I feel my eyes lifting from the computer screen to look outside.

This is a natural thing... it is only recently that humans have done everything indoors.
It seems unnatural to me that we shut ourselves in.
Where is the room to breathe?
What is so terrible about sitting in the grass?
Would our minds be more at ease if we took more time to look out of a window?

Ever since I was younger I have been told that focusing is important.
I would sit in my grade school class... in the little chair.... and look out at the butterflies dancing outside.
Teachers looked down on this behavior... this natural behavior...
What brought us indoors?
Maybe it is time we do outside.. instead of looking out of a window.

[Image:http://www.pamelamarcon.com/]

The Rock

I sit here upon a rock
Placed firmly in the muddy ground it gazes out onto the town
I wonder how long the rock has been watching
What could it have seen?
I know that it has seen me travel this path many times before
I come up here and rest my body and look out on the world
How many emotions does this rock see?
I know I have had a wide array to share
Sometimes the sun is shining and optimism consumes me
But there are times where all seems wrong and tears crash against its surface
Does he know how he has comforted me?
He never tells me that he does not have time
Dependable... always dependable...
Sometimes I can't think of a single person who will understand
So I climb the slopes to sit... to contemplate
I do not see another sole for hours yet I feel like I have talked things through
What a marvelous thing a rock is
If only everyone took the time to sit upon the surface and think
I recommend a trip into nature the next time you are feeling blue
Never underestimate the power that such a beautiful object can offer you in your time of need
Nature is always there for me... I just need to go to her

Henry David Thoreau

From Sounds
(Walden)
"They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance. I realized what the Orientals mean by contemplation and the forsaking of works."

I am a person who believes very strongly in meditation as well as working hard to accomplish what you must accomplish. I set aside time on a weekly basis in order to do something that allows me to get lost in my thought. Some things that allow me to drift into a vivid world within my imagination are: hiking, walking, lying down in the grass, looking out a window at birds, and listening to classical music... just to name a few. I have always been a person who could get lost in deep thought for hours. In fact... I am sometimes unable to be alone because of the chatter in my mind. I have to set aside time in my daily life in order to let my mind drift off and do what it needs to do in order for me to re-focus on the other things that consume me... such as school. I have noticed that when I do not take the time to meditate I am not as productive as I could be.
Sometimes I feel as if I am on both ends of the spectrum because I am a very focused and hard working person but I still NEED to let my mind take over and become a scattered mess. Maybe that is just what the brain needs in order to be as focused as I must be. I have never met a person who can sit down and study for hours and hours at a time without a break and remained focus and I have never met a person who can spend as much time alone as I can. I guess the two extremes need one another in order to be flourish.
I wonder what would happen if more people took the time to drift off and succumb to meditation for a few hours a week. Would that entirely unproductive time lead to more productivity in the long run? Could this be the secret to success? I think more people have realized the power of letting your mind wander without even realizing it. For example, I always see students in the library lift their heads from their studies and gaze out of the window as if they had never seen the outdoors before in their lives. It seems as if the productivity drives them to meditation.
The brain is too dynamic for me to pick apart. One thing that I know is that it needs its own time away from the structured forces of our society. It needs time to bathe in the sunlight and drift of into thoughts of days in the past and days to come. I will not deny my brain of this need... this inherent desire to take a break. I will leave now to take my brain for an adventure and sit on my balcony and simply let my mind take over.

[Image: http://www.teekampagne.de/en-en/1_2.html]

Clouds Rolling In

The sky is clear and calm.
I sit back and look up at the beautiful birds over head.
What are they thinking I wonder.
I enjoy the cool breeze against my cheeks.
I am warm as I bask in the heat of the day.
The top of this mountain allows me to drift in and out of thoughts.
I feel no social pressures up here.
It is only me and Nature... only she has a hold on my mind.

Nature does not care to send out a warning.
She is powerful and set in her ways.
How could I have been so confident as to believe I knew her intentions.

I sit in the open field, still gazing at the sky.
When the dark clouds began to shift into view.
I watched the dark clouds cover my warmth and chills went up my body.
I stop in my tracks and wonder if it is time to go.
I know I should be heading back, for Nature is telling me so.
But I can't take my eyes off this expression of Nature's fury.
I did not understand how the day could change so rapidly.

A drop of water fell from heaven and glided down my cheek.
I swiftly pick up my things and begin to travel down the hill.
Step by step I venture downwards.
The heavy drops splashing on the ground.
I want so badly to just stand there in Nature's creation but I will have to save it for another day.
I reach my car just in time to watch the water stream down the windows like little fish.

Oh how unpredictable nature is and Oh how I envy her ways.

[Image: http://www.free-pictures-photos.com/clouds/index.htm]

Native Grass

The grass grows in thick tufts upon the side of the hill.
It looks down upon campus at all the busy people.
Nature knows nothing of stress besides what she can see from the hillside.
She takes her time to grow and sway with the wind.
Playful is the grass with a happy glow as it switches back and forth.

Some of the grass is native to California but some is carried from far lands.
The native grass, so tall and strong overpowers the rest.
Well adjusted to the California seasons, if one may call them seasons.
Roots of the grass dive deep down into the dry landscape.
Strong stringy stable roots were intended to keep hold for many Springs.
So elegant the grass is as it joins the wind in a synchronized dance.
At the top of the tall stalks sits a bristle point.
I wonder if they were meant as paintbrushes to paint the sunsets in the sky,
It strikes me as odd that a grass could be so dainty and fragile yet it is strong and enduring.

All of the grass appears but to be the same blade when I look from the bottom of the hill.
Yet they shine so bright with their differences while I sit amongst them.
Each type of grass seems to sit in harmony with the rest.
I would have never guessed that some come from far away lands.

The grass seems to be only but a beautiful addition to the hillside.
But to a bird it may be shelter and protection.
And the an insect it may be home.
If only I knew all that the grass did for nature.
For now... I will just appreciate the beauty and calm the grass has brought to my heart.



[Image:http://www.library.ca.gov/history/cahinsig.cfm]

Poly Canyon

A deer peek a boos among the soft luscious grass, shaded by a cool-calming trees that hug the ground.
The creek slowly drains from one end to the other without any appreciation of time.
A train whistles in the background and my mind quickly drifts back to the classroom.
A contrasting bird chirps a sweet tune to lure my thoughts back to nature.
All the birds sing in an unspoken choir that fills the air and is carried for miles.
The hills roll side by side and curve into a valley of lush floral grounds.
My feet pound the soil amongst the gentle natural footsteps of a woodland creature.
A hawk cries out to the heavens and slices the air while neighboring birds chirp ever so slightly.
Nature allows all of its diversity to come together harmoniously and allow an unnatural peace to take place.
Clouds sweep gracefully over the heavens and subdue the harsh rays of the sun as a gentle breeze blows through my hair.
Calm...
Calm...I feel calm for once today... A natural way of life this is...back to the world I shall go but I will leave a piece of me here with the ever swaying branches of the oak.
Like the rocks, I am only but an observer of this inspirational landscape.
Like the plants, I wait... they wait for loving rain and I wait for another moment in the glorious field that cradles my every emotion.
So intense my love for the land and how I wish to return in time.

[Image: http://danberkeland.typepad.com/dan_berkeland_gallery/2006_paintings/index.html]