Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Let us not talk falsely now / 1833





















"... another song we did about in the year of 1833, and I think it is pretty true still today, if you can dig it."

Listen.

















(Macrame by am, 1970; photos by am, March 31, 2010, 7:15 to 7:27 a.m.)

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Tabla / Spring






















Listen.

Thanks to TaraDharma for this.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Sun Under A Cloud Koan

















In The Story of My Life, Helen Keller wrote that "the sun had been under a cloud all day ..."

The sun.
Under a cloud.
Behind a cloud?
No, she said.
Under a cloud.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Intuition






















"The intellect has little to do on the road to discovery. There comes a leap in consciousness, call it intuition or what you will, and the solution comes to you and you don't know how or why."

-- Albert Einstein

When I looked outside this morning at 7 a.m. I didn't see anything about the view or the light that made me want to get out my camera. Under the high overcast, everything was greyed out. I got out my camera anyway to see what the scene would look like in black and white. As I was moving the camera around for the right composition, a hummingbird appeared!!

Listen

Monday, March 22, 2010

First hummingbird / first flowers






















Yesterday in the early evening I saw the first hummingbird of the season at the feeder. Just a few minutes ago, when I was out on my porch watering my planters, I noticed some tiny purple flowers blooming. If you click on the photo, you will see them.

It's almost 2 weeks since I started my new/old job. Still trying to figure out how to organize my life with 34+ fewer hours of free time.

I'm grateful for those who continue to visit my blog, whether you leave comments or not. I'm having a difficult time gathering my thoughts for comments and responses, except to say "Thank you, dear readers."

Listen.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

"Remember what peace there may be in silence"






















Only by going alone in silence, without baggage, can one truly get into the heart of the wilderness. All other travel is mere dust and hotels and baggage and chatter. -John Muir, naturalist, explorer, and writer (1838-1914)

My dad was born in 1914 and died on St. Patrick's Day in 2003. I was named after his mother who died when I was 7 years old. She lived in Minnesota. We lived in California. She saw me twice -- once when I was an infant and again when I was not much older than 3. She said of me, "She's a sturdy baby. She will be able to take care of herself in the world."

My father was named after his mother's father.

My dad loved flowers and gardening. After retiring from a career as a systems analyst, he said, "I should have been a farmer."

Rest in peace, Dad.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Here, There and Everywhere

Remembered this as I stood outside this morning on the first day at my new/old job as a medical transcriptionist and saw this:

















Nevermore, however, weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one mountain day; whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever.

John Muir (June 23, 1869)

Saturday, March 6, 2010