by Wendell Berry
At start of spring I open a trench
in the ground. I put into it
the winter’s accumulation of paper,
pages I do not want to read
again, useless words, fragments,
errors. And I put into it
the contents of the outhouse:
light of the sun, growth of the ground,
finished with one of their journeys.
To the sky, to the wind, then,
and to the faithful trees, I confess
my sins: that I have not been happy
enough, considering my good luck;
have listened to too much noise;
have been inattentive to wonders;
have lusted after praise.
And then upon the gathered refuse
of mind and body, I close the trench,
folding shut again the dark,
the deathless earth. Beneath that seal
the old escapes into the new.
It’s being here now that’s important. There’s no past and there’s no future. Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. We can gain experience from the past, but we can’t relive it; and we can hope for the future, but we don’t know if there is one.
~ George Harrison
There is the past, and there is the future. The present is never more than the single second dividing one from the other. We live poised on that second as it’s hurtling forward—toward what?
~ Laini Taylor, Dreams of Gods & Monsters
We are rag dolls made out of many ages and skins, changelings who have slept in wood nests or hissed in the uncouth guise of waddling amphibians. We have played such roles for infinitely longer ages than we have been men. Our identity is a dream. We are process, not reality, for reality is an illusion of the daylight — the light of our particular day.
~ Loren Eiseley
The picture alone, without the written word, leaves half the story untold.
~ James Lafferty
This post is in response to Susannah Conway’s April Love 2018 prompt for today: Written. Quick post today. M and I have been out hiking and enjoying this beautiful Sunday. I hope your Sunday is/was beautiful, too.
A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy: 635) A hike in the woods. 636) Perfect hiking weather (cool, breezy, and sunny). 637) Fields of purple flowers. 638) Seeing two Bald Eagles on our way home. 639) Sitting by the Pocomoke River. 640) Lunch at our new favorite Chinese restaurant. (Our old favorite is closed. The couple who owned it — she was the waitstaff and he was the chef — decided to retire.)
What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.
~ Joseph Addison
It has often been said that our environmental crisis is a crisis of perception. We do not readily see the patterns that would reveal our dependence on the natural world, nor are we commonly aware of the systems within which we are deeply embedded. Our attention, entrained on objects and focused on flat screens, is far removed from the dynamic and animated nonhuman world. We are as good as blind to the wonder at our feet or the daily spectacle of an ever-changing sky.
~ Laura Sewall
I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought or thoughtfulness.
~ Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking