Migrating Toward the Sunset

"There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds... There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature -- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter..."

-- Rachel Carson

Here Comes the Sun

So many exciting happenings are underway for me here in Northeast Ohio. At the top of that list is that I participated in my very first craft show last weekend!

For some time now I have been creating "frameable greeting cards" from the photos I take. (See here: www.photocardart.com). I have been showing the cards to friends and family for feedback but I had never brought them to the general public. Going from a repressed and stunted photographer/artist to one who shows her vision to the outside world has been a long journey to say the least. One that has taken years (if not a 40-year lifetime) to unfold.

But I am beginning to feel that the light at the end of my tunnel is the sun coming up. I am following its light and warmth and I am trusting that a creative identity is something right for me. And it all started with flowers so this gorgeous gerbera daisy feels right to represent my shining sun...

Sweet Presence

This delicate autumn budling is only a few millimeters in size. Really, she's *that* small. But nevertheless, she rises every gradually darkening fall day and faces the adventure of change that is ahead of her with all the presence and willingness she can contain.

Trustingly, she sweetly says, "Yes" to the day and, "Yes" to the coming changes, and even, "Yes" to the imminent cold temperatures of winter she knows are not meant for her.

The little budling knows only that she is here *now* and, without worrying about the coming chill, she simply and willingly says, "Yes."

Hiding Out

This little acorn was tucked so far under the wilting grass, weeds and retiring meadow flowers that I almost missed her. What a shame that would have been!

The little nut looks to me like she is biding her time until she can become snow-covered and so nestle herself in the ground to start hibernating and gestating for the coming spring when she will emerge as a baby tree.

She looks to me as if she is trying to disappear -- not so that she isn't seen, but so that no squirrels capture her before she reaches her truest moment. She knows that her special destiny in time is not yet here and she knows that, "laying low" is a strategy she can use to help her survive until then.

She is retreating from the spotlight now so that she can gather her forces and prepare for her most authentic entrance of all...

Autumn Bounty

Autumn is at its beginning edge here in northern Ohio. It's a season I don't usually enjoy because I don't like the colder temperatures and in addition, summer *always* feels too short to me. I typically feel a dread when fall comes since it portends the soon-to-follow wintertime and the cold temperatures and gray days have always been my enemy.

But in my journey to develop more acceptance of my life I am working to see the autumn glass as half-full. That means seeing the sights of autumn through eyes that say, "Yes" instead of, "No."

With that thought in mind I ventured into the countryside this past week and stopped at some local markets which were overflowing with, what this year I made the active choice to see as, autumn's bounty.

I must say, it was beautiful...

Ready To Go

Our baby Robins are ready to fly. There are two of them this year. They have been eagerly eating everything their parents bring them so that they can gain strength and become independent.

Yesterday the baby birds were perched on the edge of the nest like this all day long, so that we thought they would leave yesterday, but this morning they are still there. They understand that the process needs to take its time and to rush it would not be in their best interests.

I am endlessly fascinated with the individuation process. To start out strong, competent and independent is not what is expected in the natural order of things.

It's O.K. to be young and hesitant and even fearful. The right time will come with sincere preparation, intention and patience.

Doing Her Thing

Amidst the confusion, and even chaos, of the ever-changing world around her, she holds steady to the only thing she truly knows -- being herself.

On the Path to a New Day

Going with the Sway

No worries. No problems. Everything's gonna be alright...

Those are the thoughts that I imagine this little beetle is having.

While the wind is blowing and the tall grasses are swaying to and fro the beetle isn't very concerned. Up and down it continues to go about its business while the world outside of its intention is doing something else...

An Abundance of Flowers

The little green bug is back! He (somehow this guy is a "he" for me) was resting quietly planning his next adventure when I found him. I can *quite* relate to him.

I move in such ebbs and flows. I take action and then rest, take action and then rest. In the past every time I rested I worried that I might never take action again since somehow the resting period can feel "wrong" if I let it.

But as I am growing more into myself I am learning that the resting is an integral part of the action. And even, it's not a necessary evil part of the action but an *absolute necessity* part of the action.

Of course the little green bug knows all that without having any stress of outside expectations. He follows his instincts and does what he needs for himself so that he can keep moving on to the next flower and the next and the next...

Tender Embrace

Seeing the Flowers

I've been busy getting summer underway but not too busy to notice all the various flowers that are in bloom this year. It seems to be a "bumper" year for flowers -- or maybe I'm just taking the time to notice more this year...

Sunny Shower Flower

I had some fun with my lone meadow flower last night when I was using the sprinker and the sun came through the trees...

The Forerunner

It's June already and summer is starting here!

I am still waiting for some wildflowers to bloom in my meadow but in the meantime there are already a few hearty spirits who have been here before.

I don't know how they came to be here or who planted them but they are showing the way for the new seeds I've sown...

Blurred Trust

Sometimes I want to control everything and *know* how it will all turn out. But I can't always do this -- or even, ever do this.

I am learning to trust the unknowing -- to allow the faint glimmers I see to be enough information for now.

Will it all turn out alright?

Will the day unfold as sunny or cloudy?

I don't know right now -- but I am learning to trust that I will be able handle whatever comes my way...

How to Ponder

"...As the bee collects nectar and departs
without harming the flower or its colour or scent,
so let the sage live in a village.
Not the faults of others
nor their errors of commission or omission,
but one's own errors and omissions should the sage consider..."

-- Buddha

The Seeds of Empowerment

For the last four days I have been working in the yard -- gardening and planting a meadow.

Although I live in the suburbs I have a large yard that is divided into two sections -- one that is close to the house and gets a lot of use -- and one that is farther back and doesn't "do" too much.

This year I decided to put that back section to work!

I am turning it into a meadow -- a field of wildflowers. I have tilled the land and planted 6 pounds of wildflower seeds (that's a lot!)

I dream of living in "the country" but have no plans to move there just yet -- so instead, I am bringing "the country" to me...

The Fortune of Presence

When I get up close and peer quietly into, what feels to me like, the heart and soul of the Dogwood tree, I truly have a hard time finding words to explain how special I find her tender and delicate beauty -- and also, I find it hard to explain how privileged I feel to be her witness.

Trusting the Misunderstanding

Tender little flower buds like this one are found on the "prickle bushes" in my yard. I actually never noticed them before. They probably come every spring but this is the first time I took such close note.

This sweet yellow bud is smaller than a pea but yet it blooms forth with abandon to attract insects for pollination...

Of course the thorn is there to protect the vulnerable bud from larger scavengers and invaders -- animals that might eat her because she is pretty -- but does the bud understand that the thorn is there to help?

The bud does what she does but at the same time does she appreciate the reality that something everyone else fears, or at the very least misunderstands, is her protector?

Is it even important that the bud understand this purpose of the thorn or is it enough that she trusts it and so blooms in its presence?

The Wise World

Whenever I think there is "nothing to photograph" all I have to do is get down, close to the ground, and use macro. It's a whole new world -- and such a wise world too.

The details I see when in the "macro world" are, actually, awe-inspiring way far beyond the mundane limits of my life.

I can get wrapped up thinking the daily details of my life are important but then, when I look at all the gazillions and gazillions -- and even *more* gazillions -- of details in the macro world I am humbled and my chattering brain comes to a quick (and welcome, I must say) standstill.

I begin to grasp that the details of my world are as passing as the seeds of this dandelion. They come, they go, they serve a purpose, they are done.

Really, there is no need to get so wrapped up in each and every gazillion detail.

It's enough to trust that they all serve purpose and when the purpose is over the detail will move on...

Coming Out From Under

I've been having a headache/migraine for the past 5 days. It is not fun. When I am in the throws of the headache it feel like I am this tree, enveloped in the fog of pain (to put it mildly).

But I am starting to come out now and that clearing away of the mist is as refreshing (and welcome) as this tree is beautiful as it emerges from its own haze...

The Woman Inside

Along with Lilacs, another favorite spring flower of mine is Lily of the Valley.

It seems that the smaller the flower is (the more dainty and delicate it is) the more I am attracted to it.

Now, you must know, I am *not* a dainty and delicate woman!

Hmmmm, must be something about my alter-ego... :)

Spring in the City

Yesterday was a beautiful foggy morning so I got up and ran out to be a part of it. For two hours I wandered in my "urban oasis" city-park called, Forest Hill Park -- and it was magical.

Aside from the lovely misty and mysterious energy in the air, encouraged by the fog (and I'll have some photos of *that* beauty coming up soon), I was given an incredible treat of spending time with a herd of deer. I don't mean one or two deer -- I'm talking about a whole herd. I counted 10 of them.

I know this isn't such an amazing experience in and of itself, but I live in a first-ring suburb of a city of about 500,000 people. Forest Hill Park is only about five miles from the center of that city. It's a small space but somehow seems to have provided shelter so that a whole herd of deer could develop this spring.

I try not to think about where they all will go (since surely the space of Forest Hill Park is too small to contain them for long) as I bid the gentle creatures safe passage on their journeys and I remember the special morning I spent with them.

Psychedelilacs

I truly can not get enough of my Lilacs.

Each bud, budding flower or bloom is so unique and special to my eyes.

The immensity of their variations is like stars in the sky to me -- and I am left feeling such contentment and security in my amazement at the force behind their beauty...

Continuing Intrigue

Spring is so full of freshness and newness -- and I clearly find that inspiring and encouraging -- but I must say that aged flowers, which have somehow survived the winter, are also very intriguing to me.

These mature blooms may have their "best" days behind them but they are still as beautiful and unique as ever.

Lessons from a Bloom

Spring blooms are so graceful, humble, beautiful, mysterious, eager and optimistic -- even in the rain.

Safely Growing

This little bud appears so definite and self-assured of reaching greater heights, but, at the same time, she has tentacles (what else are they?) to clear her way and make sure the path is safe for growth.

The diminutive bud isn't just aimlessly or recklessly growing upward and outward but instead she has purpose and direction and intention in her growth and the tentacles are actually discovering the path first and then are leading the bloom to follow.

I'm thinking the bud will grow taller and stronger than she might have because of the "clearing of the path" and guidance that the exploratory tentacles provide.

The best part is that the tentacles are of the bloom's own making.

The Sweet Exhale

I am not a cold weather person. I like temperatures that begin around 75 and go up from there. Needless to say, winter is a difficult season for me.

When I take a walk these days and see the brilliant Forsythia bush in full bloom I nearly viscerally feel my whole spirit, and maybe my soul too, exhale. Certainly my body relaxes the tension it was holding during the winter months and I can tangibly sense the promise of summer (my favorite season) which I know, when I see the Forsythia, is certain to be coming along soon.

The funny thing is that I don't particularly like the color yellow -- and I don't feel any affinity with the Forsythia, but I can't deny that when she reaches her full bloom the relief I feel at knowing that the worst of the winter season is over is *so* sweet to me that Forsythia, for the time-being, is my most favorite of them all...

Seeking Out

As the suns becomes brighter and warmer with each passing day I feel like this tender little flower tentatively seeking out from her winter hiding place.

Quietly, and with anticipation, she is curious to see all the new-born and re-born wonders that the Spring might deliver...

Enjoying the Journey

I *adore* lilacs -- especially the purple ones.

Ever since I was a little girl purple was my favorite color and to see it so unabashedly expressed in nature, by the lilac bush, is exciting for me.

These purple lilac budlings will be bursting forth any day now and although I am waiting patiently for them to take their time in emerging, I am very much looking forward to when they do.

But even before the flowers do emerge I find the budlings to be just as intriguing as the sweet and beautiful flowers they will become. I enjoy looking closely at all the intricate patterns of the buds as they crowd next to each other making their space, and place, in the future bunch. Although I am eager for the bloomed flowers, I slow myself down to enjoy observing the budlings just as much.

It's another reminder for me to value the journey as much as the destination.

Well, finally Spring is beginning to arrive here, and not a moment too soon!

Although I try to remain stoic during the winter months I can't help but *exalt* when I see the first stirrings of new buds and growth. It is so reassuring when the cycle starts around again.

Quiet Beauty

Winter has always been a time of hibernation for me. It's cold, mostly dark and it takes too long for me to bundle up properly in order to go outside (I end up losing interest by the time I arrive at tying my scarf!)

But lately I've been so amazed and grateful for the beauty that is around me during the winter months. The beauty isn't what I typically like -- which is found in the bright colors of flowers or the rich greens of mature trees -- but rather I'm starting to see the beauty of winter in that it is understated and confident.

The quiet beauty of winter is found in lines and shadows and brilliant reflections of light. It's not a loud, 'proactive' beauty that proclaims itself but instead it is more subdued and 'reactive' and, really, it has nothing to prove. The beauty of winter simply 'is'.

As grow into myself, I'm finding that the sun illuminating the quiet stillness of a subdued and confident winter is a form of beauty that makes sense to me. It is winter's acceptance of itself and what it 'is' that puts it in a position to be enhanced and made beautiful by the sun.

Fingers Towards the Skies

A Tree

A tree beside the sandy
River-beach
Holds up its topmost boughs
Like fingers towards the skies
They cannot reach,
Earth-bound, heaven-amorous.

This is the soul of man.
Body and brain
Hungry for earth
our heavenly flight detain.

--Sri Aurobindo

The Patience of Growth

So how does this sprig of life do it? How does she maintain her composure while being nearly engulfed by blanketing snow? How does she maintain her tender layer of fuzz all over her needles while the snow around her attempts to overtake her?

This sprig is no more than three inches tall, yet she persists in making her way through the journey of the seasons. She doesn't seem to be concerned with how much or how fast she grows, just that she is still here and still strong as winter encroaches. She knows the cold season won't last forever and soon the warm sun will encourage her growth again...

In waiting patiently for spring to arrive, and not fully succumbing to the tendency of winter slumber, this elegant sprig of life is still growing -- in that she is learning patience.

The Glow of the Future

So I see this little twig sticking out of the snow, as me, at the halfway point (approximately!) of my life.

I have a choice at this juncture to see my twig self as facing to the left with the long shadow caused by the glowing sun as my past that is following me, never to be released....

....Or, I can see myself as facing to the right with the shadow that is caused by the glowing sun as my future that is long and looming ahead of me full of possibilities and journeys I've only begun to dream of envisioning.

Turning 40 is, for me, about making choices for myself and being more the mistress of my destiny than the victim of my past.

I know which way I choose to see my twig facing...