A chilly Saturday in spring

Rooted on the dunes. (Cape Henlopen, Delaware.)

We have little needs and we have deeper needs.

We have fallen into the mistake of living from our little needs til we have almost lost our deeper needs in a kind of madness. Let us prepare now for the death of our present little life and the re-emergence in a bigger life in touch with the moving cosmos. It is a question practically of relationship. We must get back into relation, vivid and nourishing relationship to the cosmos and the universe. The way is through daily ritual and re-awakening. We must once more practice the rituals of dawn and noon and sunset, the ritual of kindling fire and pouring water, the ritual of the first breath and the last. To these rituals we must return or we must evolve them to suit our needs. For the truth is we are perishing for the lack of fulfillment of our greater needs. We are cut off from the great sources of our inward nourishment and renewal, sources which flow eternally in the universe.

Vitally, the human race is dying. It is like a great uprooted tree with its roots in the air. We must plant ourselves again in the universe.

~ D. H. Lawrence

Centering.

Inscendence:   the impulse not to rise above the world (transcendence) but to climb into it, seek its core.

~ Thomas Berry (by way of Robert MacFarlane)

Going inwards.

I write blog posts in my head.  Then I forget about them after a few days of not moving them from the head to the page.  I have days when I wonder if I should shut this thing down.  Or leave it open but finally announce that it’s not something I want to do anymore.  As soon as the “not anymore” thought enters my head, I sit down to write because that’s how the human brain works.  It doesn’t like the idea of “not anymore.”  And honestly, neither do I.  I’ve been at this blogging thing for a long time.  I’m not sure I really, truly want to give it up.  I certainly would miss the community.  There is something special here, with you all, that doesn’t seem to carry over to social media (Instagram being the one place I still frequent when I go to social media).

Do I start all of my infrequent blog posts this way lately?  I suppose I do.  That must be terribly boring.  I will try to do better in the future.

Periwinkles in the cemetery.

It snowed this morning.  Briefly.  Snowflakes flying in between the raindrops.  There is a gale warning.  Just a few days ago I was ready to turn on the air conditioning.  It was warm and muggy.  Hints of the summer to come.  The warmth will be returning on Thursday.  Before that happens we’ll be dipping back down in the 20’s (F) for our lows over the next few nights.  Spring and winter are doing a back-and-forth, and eventually it will just become summer.  Spring never lasts very long in these parts.  You have to get out and enjoy it as much as possible because things change so quickly.

Conversing.

It’s been a lovely, quiet, peaceful morning.  Beethoven, the Mockingbird, started things off by singing some of his repertoire.  Beethoven’s songs are a wonderful alarm clock and way to wake in the mornings.  He sits on the roof of the house, just outside of the spare bedroom (which is near the “office” where I write my blog posts).  Sometimes I sleep in the spare bedroom — for various reasons, one of which is my own tossing and turning and not wanting to keep M awake when I can’t sleep — and it’s lovely to wake up to Beethoven’s songs.  He sings again in the evening, just before retiring.  And, as I found out while on my walk yesterday, he is now practicing his songs throughout the day.

A slab of stone, flowers as stars.

Izzy Cat and I rolled around on the floor, doing our yoga and meditation practices just after Beethoven woke us up.  I put this on and we listened while we did our practice (if you have time, please go listen; it’s beautiful).  I might use it again during my yoga practice a few more times.  There was something about the music that made me feel that sense of inscendence, a word I just learned this morning.  I think I’d much rather work on inscendence these days than transcendence.  Dig in, find the core, bury deep.

Sweeping.

There was something I was going to babble on and on about, but I’ve forgotten what it was.  Just as well.  My theme for today is Listening.  Babbling is not listening.

Oh, wait.  I remember what it was.  Something about liminal time, the in-between, the going from one big number to another when it comes to goals.  For instance, it seems like it’s taking forever to go from a day 500 to a day 600 in my 1,000 Days Project (it is currently day 567).  And yet, going from 1 to 500 feels like it went by fast.  Weird how time does that.  (Have I mentioned my 1,000 Days Project?  Yes?  No?  I don’t remember.  The goal of it is to do my yoga practice for 1,000 days.  I was already well into it by the time I decided to call it a project.  I borrowed the idea from Meghan Genge.   I think I must have mentioned it sometime in the past because I remember linking to her site.)

A big gun. A big shell.

I went to Cape Henlopen up in Delaware for a bicycle ride on Monday.  It was a beautiful blue-sky spring day and the park was almost empty.  It was kind of strange to wander around among the batteries and bunkers and large guns they have placed there while the war in Ukraine rages on.  Cape Henlopen was one of the first parcels of public lands established in what would become the U.S.  In 1682, William Penn declared that the land would be for the usage of the citizens of the area.  The cape has been a strategic location throughout our wars (the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, World War I, and World War II).  Fort Miles was built there during WWII along with a bunch of observation towers, bunkers, and a pier.  They have placed some large guns there as part of the Fort Miles Museum and Historical area.  During the Cold War, Fort Miles shifted to classified missions of watching for and defending against Soviet submarines.

Forsythia in bloom.

Here on the Wabi-Sabi Ranch, things are growing and blooming and leafing.  I’ve had to do the first mow of the season and from the looks of things, I’ll be mowing again soon.  The grass grows quickly.  We have seeds started for the vegetable garden, and I’ll be clearing out the flower garden soon, readying it for this year’s flowers.  Zinnias.  Always zinnias.  I know they’ll grow there and they are low maintenance, a good thing for this lazy gardener.

Spring yellow.

I’m still writing, painting, drawing, and art journaling.  It keeps me busy and out of trouble.  I also find those things to be restful.  I’ve been thinking a lot about rest lately.  What is restful?  What is work?  What is a good balance between the two?

It’s redbud season.

I am planning a quick trip to NE Ohio in April.  After that, I think I’ll be settled here for a while, gardening, mowing, drawing, painting, writing, and all the other things that fill my days.  There might be a trip to the Columbus, Ohio area in May.  We’ll see how things are going in terms of schedules and the pandemic.  Oh right.  We’re ignoring that now.  No pandemic to see here, folks.  I would like that to be true.  But I still wear a mask while indoors in public spaces (which I don’t frequent often).

A Carolina Wren pondering the meaning of life. Or maybe he’s just pondering where he wants to build a nest in the barn.

I suppose that’s about it from me and from the Wabi-Sabi Ranch on this chilly Saturday.  Thank you so much for dropping by and visiting with me.  Let’s meet out at the Point for sunset this evening.  We have had some beautiful sunsets lately thanks to all the clouds that have been blowing through.  Sunset is scheduled for 7:20 PM.  Bundle up.  It’s cold out there by the water.

Please stay safe, stay well, and stay kind.  ♥

The redbud blossoms look like miniature orchids to me.

A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy:  1,981)  Warm shelter and clothing on chilly days.  1,982)  Redbud trees and their blossoms.  1,983)  Morning bird songs.  1,984)  Music and dancing and singing and chanting.  1,985)  Learning new words.  Especially the word inscendence.  What a beautiful word.

Traveling the web.