Beginnings are sudden, but also insidious. They creep up on you sideways, they keep to the shadows, they lurk unrecognized. Then, later, they spring.
~ Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
To see a hillside white with dogwood bloom is to know a particular ecstasy of beauty, but to walk the gray Winter woods and find the buds which will resurrect that beauty in another May is to partake of continuity.
~ Hal Borland
Although I don’t have photos of the dogwood tree from the winter months, April was such a gloomy, rainy, chilly month that it at least qualifies as being gray (as in walking “the gray Winter woods” in the quote). Posting every day has given us all a chance to see things as they unfold. I thought it would be interesting to see the unfolding in one post.
As you can tell from the post title, the Weekly Photo Challenge brought to us by The Daily Post is Spring. Although winter still has a few tricks up its sleeve, the trees are starting to bud. This photo is of the little fuzzy things on the old maple tree at the back of the pond. It is a tree we are going to have to cut down eventually. If a strong storm came along and knocked it over, roots and all, it could do some terrible damage to the dam of the pond.
I forgot to give you all the answer to the mystery photo from my close up series. Sorry about that. Perhaps this will help:
It is a lobster. Some of you were close with crab as your guess. Good job. 🙂
To find new things, take the path you took yesterday. ~ John Burroughs
This morning, as I got caught up in trying to solve a problem with the computer, I briefly thought about how I could have spent that time meditating. Then I went on with what I was doing.
I thought about meditation again while I was out on my walk this afternoon, slowly making my way around the pond.
I am normally a fast walker. It’s not a matter of wanting to get from point A to point B. I usually walk fast because I see it as an opportunity to exercise, to raise my heart rate, to burn a few calories. The camera, of course, often slows me down. But in between the picture taking, I often hurry along as if I am late for something.
I’m not sure when it happened but, sometime since the start of my commitment to get outside every day, I slowed down. Each step is taken with purpose, with awareness. I no longer rush to get anywhere (or nowhere).
I arrive back at the house feeling the way I do after I’ve meditated. That is to say, some days it’s good. Some days it’s very good. And other days, the monkey mind had its way and I’ll just have to try again tomorrow.
All walking is discovery. On foot we take the time to see things whole. ~ Hal Borland
I hear thunder rumbling in the distance. I’ll take that as a sign I should wrap this up and move on to other things now. We have a freezing rain advisory for tonight, but the predicted snow seems to have fallen off the radar. Tomorrow, they say, will be sunny and cold.