made full

the cottonwood

is losing her leaves

it began

last week

and yesterday’s rain

hastened the change

but 

emptiness is beautiful

when arms are held

high

"When we give freely, we feel full and complete; when we withhold, we feel small, petty, impotent, and lacking.  We are meant to learn this great truth, that giving fulfills us, while withholding and trying to get causes us to feel empty and even more needy.  This truth runs counter to our programming, which drives us to try to get something from others to fulfill our neediness, only to end up even more needy, grasping, lacking, and unfulfilled."   Gina Lake

communion

it was evening
when i saw him

there
at the edge of the marsh

we partook
together
of the softening light

he, in his element

and me
in mine


"The deepest level of communication, is not communication, but communion. It is wordless.....beyond speech, beyond concept."  Thomas Merton

"Like when you sit in front of a fire in winter....you are just there in front of the fire. You don't have to be smart or anything. The fire warms you. "   -Desmond Tutu


These images of a Great Blue Heron were taken in Door County Wisconsin.

connected

oh the power

of roots intertwined

the help we can find

in weaving and

heaving 

together

"Everything you do has an impact.  Who you are--that you are--actually matters.  In an interconnected world (the only kind we have), our actions and the actions of others are inextricably linked--we are always and forever in a dance of mutual influence with those with whom we directly and indirectly participate.  It is the unavoidable reality of being social creatures, only magnified by an ever-increasingly complex and interwoven societal structures.  We matter to each other."

                                   ~Paul Greiner

*Photo taken in Door County WI. 

what's that smell

i read today

about a lady

who can 

smell parkinson’s disease

it’s true

and i’ve read in the past

about cats 

who can smell

cancer

i can’t 

of course

but ask me about

spring lilacs, summer rain

or the air on a 

musky autumn morning

and i’ll tell you

the smell of 

foreverness

"But a smell shivered him awake. It was a scent as old as the world. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand places.  It was the tang of pine needles....It was the muscular rot of mushrooms...It was the spice of oak....It was the husks and burrows and moss.  It was solid and alive--so alive! And it was close. "       -Stephen M. Irwin

uncommon grace

in every quiet headland
in every evening still

there

doth mercy
spill


As i reflect on this image i am struck by the vastness of our Creator's mercy.  How, i ask myself, can such a peaceful scene be found, especially when the news of the day is of hoarded baby fetuses, mass shootings, and opioid overdoses.  The beauty before me could never be possible without a God of long-suffering patience.

"You cannot conceive, nor can I, of the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God."
                                   Graham Greene, Brighton Rock

Photo taken in Door County Wisconsin.

asking at the end of day

what did you see
today

and what did it
say?

And so i ask myself what these windows say to me? I decide they speak of aging and also of perception.They are old, boarded up, and what some may call “useless.” But on second look; uniquely beautiful.They remind me of something i have witnessed recently in my parents relationship. After 69 years of marriage Dad is still at home on the farm but mom is now living in a nursing home. One thing i have noticed about my parents relationship in the past year is it’s newfound sweetness. My father has become much more adept at voicing his love for mom and giving her compliments on her beauty. He has referred often to how beautiful she was to him in their youth.  And how beautiful she remains in his eyes. After all these years he is learning to communicate that fact to her in words as well as actions. It is wonderful to witness. The following quote seems to fit so well.

"Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl.

An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become.

A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be.

But a great artist, a master, can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is....and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be....

and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive,not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body.  He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart....no matter what the merciless hours have done to her.  ~Robert Heinlein

Dad has become a master artist.

I'm practicing and hope to be one someday too.

at evening time

when they came

the words were less

than a whisper

lighter than

mist

“oh child

of mine,

it is time

to

rest”

“God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer.”  Mother Theresa