The power of moving water that has traveled many miles is a mighty sweep of mind that displaces all the detritus and details and picky little annoyances of life, and smashes them to bits, and brings me back to nothingness - more than than I ever get on the mat or on the cushion or by watching my breath.
Getting ourselves back to the garden, almost able to touch Mt. Hood.
The Japanese Garden may seem like a cacophony of design and yet, as soon as I pass that first archway, a quiet descends, a transformative hush. My busy mind is left behind.
So much to see in this little botanic garden. Enjoy an early autumn walk with me - the micro, the macro, the sublime.
Sticks and stones, ivy and conifers, patience and stillness, oblivious to outside world. Come walk with us.
Mounds of lava pile up near Oregon's eastside rivers and roads, a bleak, barren sideshow alongside all the greenery. Standing in the midst of it is to be in another world, mind swept clean.
An afternoon hike led to a sweet estate garden out in the 'burbs.
The vast grassland stretched out into a perfect spring day. An eagle soared, a heron and egret fished. I needed nothing else from the world for just that moment.
Worms, kids, birds, and a garden. #Wordless Wednesday
I spent the week before our February snowstorm waiting for its arrival, watching weather reports with amusement and excited anticipation. Maybe a little dread. The ten-day predictions changed every few hours, from a few inches of snow to the extreme of eight inches one day and eleven the next, then dialing it back again. Extreme for Portland anyway. I was just waiting, checking the weather the way I used to doom scroll for the daily news - what disaster is in store today? This was way more fun however than waking up thinking, what has he tweeted today?