The earth is a living thing. Mountains speak, trees sing, lakes can think, pebbles have a soul, rocks have power. Henry Crow Dog I awaken anew each spring. The earth comes alive and so do I. A variety of body memories accompany spring’s sensual feast: the melodious calls of red wing blackbirds, a quick shiver with morning’s early mist, a whiff of ozone after a cleansing rain, the pungent taste of that first stalk of rhubarb, vibrant colors bursting from dreary gardens. My daily walks take me to a city park where I lose myself in spring’s slow unveil. Like … Continue reading
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Snapshots Of Serenity
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