Saturday, September 19, dawned a bit chilly, but that didn’t stop twelve of us from gathering at Heald and Bradley Pond’s parking lot #1 for a journal walk. As we stood in a circle, everyone was reminded that this was an opportunity to chat as we walked, but then stop in several pre-selected spots to ponder, whether it be to write, sketch, paint, photograph, or just . . . be. For ten to twenty minutes at a time we would each find a sit spot and remain as silent as possible while nature inspired us.
Pam chose to write:
If I could be the tallest tree
and watch the forest grow
I could change my colors
and slowly shed my clothes,
and then put on a warm winter blanket of snow.
After sleeping a while, I could slowly wake up
And give birth to young buds,
to young shoots,
to new green leaves of growth.
And capture the sun and watch it move across the sky
And watch my neighbors grow.
But, I am not a tree, and never will I be
But, I am happy to be me.
~Pam Katz
Bob took photographs:
As did Zoe who wrote: Often I hear Mary Oliver in my head when I'm in the woods and often it's this snippet from WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES ...
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, "It's simple," they say.
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."
Jimmy also chose to play with his camera, but somehow managed to avoid mine.
Madelyn took photographs that I wish she had shared and Charlie enjoyed letting the place enter his soul. Somehow, they too, avoided my camera.
Diane and Lisa painted and shared with us when we circled up at the end of the journey, but chose not to send electronically. (Of course, if they or Madelyn change their minds, I can add their works)
Celeste also painted with watercolors and ink.
Carol jotted down thoughts about legacies.
And Michelle considered roots.
As for me, once we left the parking lot and began to make our way counterclockwise around Perky’s Path, I realized I’d left my journal and colored pencils in my truck. And so, I took a different path and let one or two subjects at each spot become my focus. The first was the skeleton of the leaf above which inspired me to write a line, which then locked me into a form that became increasingly more difficult to maintain. Here ‘tis:
Being
Lines intertwining, curving, crossing, connecting.
Sounds interjecting, chirping, crunching, caw-cawing.
Shadows interspersing, casting, crisscrossing, changing.
Lives interacting, calming, caressing, caring.
Layers interfacing, collaborating, coloring, crowning.
Webs interweaving, collecting, caching, collapsing.
Tapestries interlacing, captivating, contrasting, coordinating.
Water interflowing, cascading, cleansing, continuing.
Perky’s Path interluding, offering a place for being.
~Leigh Macmillen Hayes
This post is dedicated to Ann, who couldn’t join us on the 19th, but has always led the journal walk a bunch of times in the past. She was missed on this day, but perhaps next year when a’pondering we will go again Ann will be in the lead..