I walked farther today than the previous days: three miles. I crossed Napa River on an elevated bridge and connected to the river trail, to the downtown then returned home on another street.
It was 65 degrees, sunny with a cool breeze. I met along the way other walkers and cyclists. We all practiced the safe distancing. There colorful flowers and plants and art.
I stopped a lot to take photos.
We are sheltered in.
Allowed to go out to take walks
Or get basic essentials for daily living.
I walk to the river for fresh air and scenery
The clouds form many disguises
The blue heron comes then flies away
Horses nonchalant in its movements
Tiny flowers adorn the lawn
My daily miracle.
The fresh thought of wanting
The eagerness of eating an ice cream cone
Hastens arrival of summer
As if it can be done by magical gestures
I’m thinking of supernatural, the miraculous.
I will fold my hands
And sit still, in silence.
There are those extraordinary hours
When you feel the approach of the beautiful
The moments when imagination is at its sharpest
When you see only clarity
Awe can be incomprehensible.
The ice cream is melting
The buds remain buried under the snow
I’m running very fast to catch reality
And tie it down.
Where are you?
After correction of errors, a shift in imagination
The weight lifted lighten the wings for wider spaces
The stories written with new desire for understanding
Seeing and describing reality.
The moments of waiting before the unfolding
Is utter loneliness.
The objects of desire are well illustrated
Ushered in the open air.
We forget defeats, remember victories
The painful ones, the hardest ones
Written in the bones, carried in the tears
We smile and say, why not.
The art of fresh approach, act of integration
The next story of enchantment we will write
As if we are thinking of immortality
We are offering our homage and gratitude.
A mother and child
foraging for mushrooms and ferns
A hanging orchid
A mountain stream
flows crystal clear, and so cold
deer is shivering
Seven blackbirds perch
on a young sycamore tree
boy counts his fingers
Undeterred they rowed
The whole Atlantic Ocean
Off the wall they said
Settled and living near the ocean
I entered a world of birds
Learning how they look and sound,
Knowing their habits and peculiarities
A new vocabulary of patience and attentive eyes,
A binocular and waking to a new way of looking
Slowly birds became like friends and companions
Swelling of delights trailing after the bird’s daily calls
Hastening the retreat of boredom hinting no return.
The waves embraces
the descending moon
a fish dangles in the line
Length of Stay
There is no more boredom or uneven walk on the hiking trail
No more mere acorns and colored pebbles from the riverbed
A new day of catastrophe’s widening reach
Wearing a mask wherever one goes
Suspicion of catching the virus when traveling, talking with friends and strangers
Living in narrow corridors
A suffocating feeling, counting the hours
Waiting when the end come?
With fear of being left alone and contagious
Today I walk to the river
There is a pink breasted bird flying from one branch to another, from one tree to another tree
Tweeting and communicating in a high pitch bird talk
I see a fisherman attending to his line
The fish has not touched any of his baits
But living is not all about intensity and patience
Not all about uncertainties and business hours
Life is also about the every day simplicity: corn on the cob and opening an umbrella during the rain,
A good book, kind thoughts, and Beethoven
And kissing you goodnight.
You try to frame your beginnings and journey
Demolishing and picking up the ruins
Planting roots, building a ladder with vision of a summit,
A tapestry of new colors and threads
Then you see a swan rising from the waters
The white wings spreading wide as if without effort
The awe encompasses all you have learned
Simple, precise and complete
Forever transforming your soul.