Mud at Dutch Creek Farm: Photo by Noelle
My love of mud continues. I think of it much like water. It begins slick and wet and molding into anything it touches. Later, it dries into cracked patterns and curious shapes, all affected by light and time of day. Something in my spirit finds this immensely appealing.
Taken near Dunn’s Landing on Block Island: Photo by Noelle
Taken near Dunn’s Landing on Block Island: Photo by Noelle
I think nature must have a good laugh at our idea of permanence, as she wraps her vines about us.
Free Bing Photos
This is re-posted from Jeff Foster’s Quotes page on Facebook. Simply beautiful.
“I remember, early one morning several years ago, while working as a home carer, I found myself washing faeces off a man’s giant, swollen testicles. He was dying of cancer which had spread throughout his testicles and prostate, and in the night he had defecated himself and rolled all around in the mess. We laughed a lot together and we chatted about football and the latest news stories as I cleaned him up. He could barely move, he was so sore and swollen everywhere. He was myself in disguise.
He had a few weeks to live, but he was so alive, so in the here-and-now, without a trace of self-pity. There was no loss of dignity there – there was just what was happening in the moment. He had somehow found a way to deeply accept his circumstances, even though his life had not turned out the way he had dreamed when he was younger and he had time to dream. It took over two hours to get him ready for his day, to hoist him out of his dirty bed, to get him toileted and dressed and into his favourite chair. He didn’t live for long after that. But I will always remember him.
Even when covered in our own shit and without a tomorrow, we are nothing less than divine.”
~ Jeff Foster
Bear Creek Lake, Lakewood, Colorado: Photo by Noelle
The trail is long as a river in the grass. Sand lilies grace the trail dwarfed now and then by soapweed yucca. In this vastness, the short and tall grasses each belong to me, as surely as the wild sky. Storm clouds gloom, but the rainbow only laughs. The sun has broken through and crickets sun themselves on drying stones. They snap and sing, flying just ahead of me into the sagewort and buffalo grass. I hear the mountain plover and the meadowlark close and far, but they are nothing more than flickers in my peripheral vision. So much moves in this rolling prairie, but always sees me before I see it. Still, I do not hunger for company in such a crowd of scrappy rabbits and field mice. If I keep my pace, I may find the pot of gold before the light winks night.
Photo montage of spilled milk: Photo and collage by Noelle
I’ll confess I like WalMart’s parking lots. I don’t shop the store much, but I tend to roam around with my camera in the parking lot. You find the most wondrous stains outside their stores. Coffee, milk, ice cream and other unidentifiable substances.
Here I give you spilled milk. No tears shed.
Fire Blue: Painting and photo by Noelle
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
Storm brewing over the hogbacks: Photo by Noelle
As the sun set, it was clear, the beauty was in the clouds, the high winds, and the violence between. They gave the sun something to shine upon, and in that, was the miracle at dusk. This is the path of healing. You are whole again when you can shine the light of your spirit on that which was broken, violent and torn asunder.
Coming of night over Johnston Lake: Photo by Noelle
In the coming of night I feel the day slip away. In the last rays that crest the hill, I forget what disturbed my midday and nagged my afternoon. No monk am I, but there is a vesper in my heart at this hour. As if the monastery bell had rung and in the reeds of the lake I knelt. Swallows catch the last flies, before the chill descends with the night. I ache to follow the rays across the horizon, yet, there is peace in this twilight I fear to miss. The passing of my day, its light and its dark, not to be walked again.
Trampled leaf, Green Mountain Trail: Photo by Noelle
Look closely. Sometimes the most beautiful things lie underfoot. Stranger still, it is often in darkness that our real beauty is exposed.
Stone and Sky: Photo by Noelle
Stone and tree
Earth and sky
Balance
"Nothing Exceeds Like Superfluous Jejunity "
Stories and Musings on Modern Life
Explorations in Authenticity by Michael Mark
Myths, legends, folklore and tales from around the world
❈ Silvia Ganora Photography ❈
Free to Be!
Usually Poetry
5-7-5 syllabic haiku in the english language
Love
Intertwined passions ~
Design, Make, Pray, Repeat
Auf einmal ist alles relativ
Just my various random & miscellaneous stuff...
Expanding Fully in this moment, understanding ourselves deeply, finding happiness
Meditation Travelogue 
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