We love to walk in the morning…we know our walk is not complete
unless we walk the way the native Americans did…
as if we’re kissing the Earth with our feet.
At home we walk to the ocean…at our cabin mountain paths we take
our walks of late to our delight have centered around a lake.
We walk early as the sun is rising…before the summer day gets hotter
It’s also the only time we get to watch the fog dance across the water.
As the sun peeks over the mountains signaling the day’s about to begin
Her sunlight widens like a smile and the lake reflects her grin.
Water spiders dash in and out of the fog…perhaps eating…or just having fun
Every fitful movement they make…highlighted by the sun.
A family of deer sees us coming…they also like to rise at dawn.
The mothers eyes us cautiously as she devotedly protects her fawn.
When she is confident we mean no harm…we see her trepidation decrease.
Her family goes back to eating and she let us pass in peace.
We see spots of yellow quickly moving and wonder…
is the sun playing tricks on our eyes
until we realize it’s not the sun but a family of goldfinches flitting by.
We stop and listen to their singing….from their nests in the trees they've made
and we feel privileged to hear a rare treat…a goldfinch serenade.
In another tree just up ahead a squirrel…enjoying the view
We wonder is he watching us…or did he stop to listen too?
Much of our walk is done in silence…because in silence it is clear
all the wonders we can see…so any wonders we can hear…
Around the lake we see our house…another wonderful morning walk complete
It’s amazing how much beauty we see when we kiss the Earth with our feet.
We had wandered through the art show…enduring all the crowds
when he happened upon an artist…who only painted clouds.
“Excuse me”, we said asking the obvious, “and this is by no means a complaint
but we have to ask if clouds…are the only things you paint.
The artist smiled then turned toward us and silently shook his head
“I like to think I’m painting more than just the clouds.” he said.
Then he walked us around his different paintings, commenting as he went
showing us with each new frame…exactly what he meant.
“These clouds depict happiness, you can feel the joy…the fun.
Why it’s as if they all are smiling as they’re backlit by the sun.”
“And these clouds show a sadness,, a sorrow, or a pain.
You can sense they are about to cry, and their tears will be the rain.”
“And look at these sunrises and sunsets, painted in colors bright and loud.
They would not be near as beautiful…if not for the clouds.”
“Do you notice how each painting is different, it’s because clouds constantly rearrange
reminding us how life is always changing, but there is beauty in the change.”
“All these clouds are simply clouds,” he continued,
”though they may have different names.
Like them our beauty is in our differences…
and like then we’re all the same.”
He took us to each painting, sometimes he spoke softly, sometimes loud
and by the end we were convinced he does paint more than clouds.
We thanked him for the lesson, it was enlightening…and so much more
for we will never look at clouds the way we did before…
But what made us smile, as we left, was a voice shaky and faint
as a young girl asked, “Hey mister, are clouds the only thing you paint?”
The older that I grow…it seems there more and more I do not know
about this world I live in…this wonderland.
When I look at the ocean and the trees…and think of them…then think of me
there are so many things I do not understand.
Like how the sun in the morning can apply…so many colors to the sky
painting a magnificent landscape in pigments dark and light
how that landscape changes through the day…but the sun still finds a way
to return and paint again at night.
How birds and flowers are related…it’s one reason they’re created
a fact nature does not try to hide
and subtly she shows this…for she wants us all to know this
when she creates a flower with a bird inside.
And how often do you wonder when you hear a clap of thunder
how that sound makes its way into the sky
or when you see a butterfly…or two…have you ever wondered who
decided to create a flower that can fly?
I do not understand how natures builds a mountain grand
or how an ocean of water can look like glass
or how a river on the ground can make such a lovely sound
or why there’s so much beauty in a blade of grass.
How it’s impossible to be lonely when you walk in nature only
by yourself without a soul to see…
because when you look around at the sky and on the ground
there are so many things to keep you company
I guess as long as I am growing…I will find joy in not knowing
so much about the air…the sea…the land…
for I am glad to live in awe of all the things I see…and saw
glad for all I do not understand.
Each language has it’s own beauty
perhaps that’s why people travel the world seek them…
I imagine they are just like me
and would someday like to speak them…
But there is one language we may never speak
it is a culture without words
It’s one we step outside to seek
in the trees, the sky…the birds.
It’s a language none of us can recreate
as it remains, to us, unknown
because nature does not translate
a language all her own.
When rain drops fall upon the ground
seedlings immediately know…
as the water reaches them without a sound
they hear…it’s time to grow.
And when the sun’s rays touch that soon-to-be flower
as it awakes from its womb
the silent sunshine reveals its power.
when it whispers…time to bloom
The wind invisibly rushes out and in
We try to comprehend but we have no chance
for we only know where she has been
as she invites the trees to dance.
We know all living things talk to each other
We know they’ve found a way
We know they’re listening to their mother
We just don’t know what they say.
But that’s OK with us…for each day
we can enjoy their music and their dance
without recognizing all the words they say
Like when we visit Italy or France.
In a way it’s like we’re in a foreign land
Nature’s land of trees and fish and birds
and tho their language we may never fully understand
we can enjoy the rhythm of their words.
They found the owl…this morning…”Look!” the young boy said.
On the street in front of their house…a little owl was dead.
“What are we going to do?” the boy asked as he got down on one knee.
“We’re going to take a walk”, Dad said, “to the weeping willow tree.”
He reached down and picked up the owl…as gently as could be
then they walked down to the lake and sat under the willow tree.
“It’s time you learned this tree’s secret.” Dad whispered. “Shhhh…don’t make a peep
It is only in the silence one can hear the willow weep.”
The son’s face beamed when he finally heard it and he asked his father…”Why?
Why is this tree so sad…what makes the willow cry?”
When we feel pain or sorrow, when we’re hurt or when someone we know dies….”
“These are some of the reason”, Dad said, “some of the reasons why we cry.
"But when a rock or tree or a little owl dies…who is there to moan?”
“Who is there to weep when parts of nature die alone?"
“That is where the willow comes in…with this job she has been blessed.”
“While we weep for those we know and love…she weeps for all the rest.”
“When a tree falls in the forest, when a baby owlet dies,
when a rivers dries up or a star stops shining…this is when the willow cries.”
So the little boy and his dad picked up the owl…as gently as can be
and buried her in silence…under the shade of that willow tree.
“She will be well protected here.” Dad said. “our promise to nature has been kept.”
and in the silence of that moment…
they joined with the willow
while she wept.
In the comfort of my boat…as on the water I did float
under a cloud filled sapphire sky
From my spot upon the river wide…up ahead along the riverside
one particular tree captured my eye.
I have always been enthralled…how the trees grow straight and tall
How together they create such a beautiful sight
but something was awry…and the tree that caught my eye
was not straight…but leaning to the right.
Yet rooted to the land…this tree continued to look grand
even leaning as it did it still stood tall
For I am must now report…two trees were offering support
using their branches they would not let him fall.
The first tree did astound…it was lying on the ground
and caught the falling tree to help it stop
The second tree still standing with it’s open arms expanding
caught the falling tree nearer to its top.
And I had to smile at the sight…how nature does things right
how she uses all she has to save a tree
And the way, like birds of a feather, trees will work together
is a wonderful and beautiful sight to see.
And I thought we can learn a lot…all that nature knows and taught
for as to life…she seems to hold the keys
For wouldn’t it be grand….if one day we came to understand
How trees stand taller when they stand with other trees
When I was young I’d pick dandelions…pick them with aplomb
I’d make a little bouquet and take it home to Mom.
I never thought much about it…never saw the need…
after all they weren’t really flowers…just a bunch of weeds.
I was expressing that thought the other day when a dandelion overheard
“Excuse me,” he interrupted, “but your thinking is absurd.”
“I am a lovely flower…grown from a beautiful seed.”
(I can’t believe I was about to have a conversation with a weed!)
I spread out on the lawn and met that dandelion face to face
“OK! I am listening.” I said to her. “Go ahead and make your case.”
“Well, without being too modest,” she began. “people pick me every day
and when they pick a lot of me I become a beautiful bouquet.”
“How many times are we brought to a house and make someone’s mother weep?”
“Did you know I open to greet the morning and in the evening close to sleep.”
“You can travel across the globe…searching everywhere low and high
and you won’t fine another flower who can symbolize the sky.”
“When I am yellow I resemble the sun as it shines in the heavens at noon.”
“When I change into a puff ball…I look just like the moon.”
“And I don’t think I’m taking this comparison a bit too far
when I say that as my seeds fly off…they look just like the stars.”
“There is no doubt when I arrive…from the moment my blooms unfurled
I make people smile and bring beauty to the world.”
“Ok…OK you made your point!” I said. “There’s nothing more you need to say
but I have to tell you dandelion…you had me at bouquet.”
So now I understand and I’m on the dandelion as a flower bandwagon
Perhaps it’s time I have a talk with that fly
who thinks he is a dragon.
Thoreau found solace in his pond…trees made Joyce Kilmer quiver
but yesterday I found our comfort…floating on the river.
We paddled and floated in our kayaks…you know…boats…the quiet kind
gladly leaving our computers and technology behind.
If we wanted to watch a video…all we had to do was look around
If we wanted to listen to music…we were inundated with sound.
We had a constantly changing video right before our eyes
we had the slowly moving water, the trees, the clouds…the sky.
We didn’t need a remote…no need to switch the channel being shown
because nature is always changing the view…subtly…on her own.
It’s like a panoramic 3D movie that is shifting all the time
It’s beautiful..it’s breathtaking…and it doesn’t cost a dime.
And if it’s music that you crave…stop and listen as you float
There is a rhythm to the waves as they brush against your boat.
Then music sung by countless birds from their nests in endless trees
finds its way into your heart as it drifts upon the breeze.
You drift along losing track of time…you flow without a care
feeling the coolness of the water…smelling the freshness of the air.
You instinctively stop paddling…as you drift around the bend
wishing this moment would last forever…hoping this feeling would never end.
and there upon the river…far far from the maddening crowds
reflected in the water…you find yourself floating through the clouds.
I understand what Thoreau meant about his pond and Mr. Kilmer about his tree
because yesterday…as if my magic… the river spoke to me.
As we walk upon the Earth
under the sky
among the trees
as we listen to the animals
or the waves upon the seas
As she awakens in the early morning
or in the evening when she’s sleeping
there is so much about nature we do not know
so many secrets she is keeping.
She understands about balance
about beauty
about grace…
How everything in this world has value
has a place.
She truly understand what it means to be alive
and how only by working together will we continue to survive…
I only hope as we walk upon this Earth
under the sky
among the trees
as we listen to the animals
or the waves upon the seas
she will one day share her secrets with us
and we, with great acclaim…
will smile with the knowledge
our world will never be the same