Fri.
Engaged in any activity _ even a simple stroll _ I tend to concentrate on one sense at a time, which is usually vision. The world is so rich I cannot possibly notice everything, and I am amazed by what is constantly before me. And yet, sometimes, I need to force myself to be aware of my other capabilities _ the feel of my legs or gut; the sounds all around me whether traffic, boats, or birds; the touch of the wind or sweat; and the scents in the air. I find that forcing myself to stop for a short time _ even only ten seconds _ can bring a whole new depth to the universe.
Engaged in any activity _ even a simple stroll _ I tend to concentrate on one sense at a time, which is usually vision. The world is so rich I cannot possibly notice everything, and I am amazed by what is constantly before me. And yet, sometimes, I need to force myself to be aware of my other capabilities _ the feel of my legs or gut; the sounds all around me whether traffic, boats, or birds; the touch of the wind or sweat; and the scents in the air. I find that forcing myself to stop for a short time _ even only ten seconds _ can bring a whole new depth to the universe.
Honeysuckle is in full and magnificent bloom, and its perfume is strong and completely tuned to the seasons. It evokes memories of childhood and vacation, and the fact that it will soon be gone for another year adds poignancy to the experience.
Sat.
In a way it’s subversive. Just walking and appreciating for a few hours
puts no money in circulation, doesn’t save nor even change anything, has no
effect on the many problems of the world nor at least physically on my
own. I’d like to believe it helps me
have a low planetary footprint _ but of course in this culture that is a lie _
I have already used electricity and gas and water when I woke up, already ate
food grown and transported and sold by others, even now wear clothing and shoes
and glasses supplied from the far corners of the Earth. Being righteously independent is an illusion
we can hardly afford.
But for a while I simply feel close
to the universe, and can hardly express my thanks for the miracle of being able
to experience existence so deeply. An
elder, I tell myself, has already done his part and can fade away graciously,
doing as little harm as possible. Or,
maybe, I am just lazy.
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I live up a hill about a block from
West Shore Road along the harbor, and I usually walk about two miles every
morning. It is about a mile to the head
of harbor, and about three to the other side in Wyncoma. Away from the harbor, the Huntington center
and its parks is two miles away. Any of
these, within walking distance, are proper foci for my notes and photos.
The goal is to post pictures and
daily notions within a week of encountering and writing them, and only from the
places I normally reach on foot. On
occasion, I may cheat for a picture by driving somewhere I normally walk
because of injury or weather. This
simple circumference gives me an infinite and bottomless opportunity for my
contemplations.
