Sit just to sit. And why not sit? You have to sit sometime, and so you may as well really sit, and be altogether here. Otherwise the mind wanders away from the matter at hand, and away from the present. Even to think through the implications of the present is to avoid the present moment completely.Alan Watts
Meditative thoughts and slow reveries dovetail nicely with steaming sultry summer days in the northern rainforest. On recent potterings through the hedgerow early in the morning, I dress lightly in cotton from the skin out and often leave the larger camera behind, opting instead for the little Sony Cybershot which spends most of its days in a drawer here in the study. The tiny Sony was my only digital camera for quite a while, and it has always been the perfect companion for hot summer days.
Is it the dancing shadows made by the leaves over my head? Is it the flickering sunlight over the lake, the slow buzzing of bees, crickets and grasshoppers in the fields, the sound of the frogs in the beaver pond? I am not sure, but there is a strong desire to curl up on a flat stone by the stream and just "be there" for an undetermined but very compelling interval.
Every leaf and tree, every bird, butterfly and dragonfly, seems to be in slow motion and expresses itself in a honeyed croon. Even the hawks have a more fluid song as they hunt in slow circles over the western hill at sunrise. I have the definite feeling that the whole exercise is about praise.
Meditative thoughts and slow reveries dovetail nicely with steaming sultry summer days in the northern rainforest. On recent potterings through the hedgerow early in the morning, I dress lightly in cotton from the skin out and often leave the larger camera behind, opting instead for the little Sony Cybershot which spends most of its days in a drawer here in the study. The tiny Sony was my only digital camera for quite a while, and it has always been the perfect companion for hot summer days.
Is it the dancing shadows made by the leaves over my head? Is it the flickering sunlight over the lake, the slow buzzing of bees, crickets and grasshoppers in the fields, the sound of the frogs in the beaver pond? I am not sure, but there is a strong desire to curl up on a flat stone by the stream and just "be there" for an undetermined but very compelling interval.
Every leaf and tree, every bird, butterfly and dragonfly, seems to be in slow motion and expresses itself in a honeyed croon. Even the hawks have a more fluid song as they hunt in slow circles over the western hill at sunrise. I have the definite feeling that the whole exercise is about praise.
1 comment:
I want to move in slow motion like the world you describe so carefully. Lovely piece.
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