Walking with the Spirits

There are moments when a flicker of light or gentle breeze holds greater promise than all words spoken or any thought tumbling inside. During these times the soul searches for significance beyond words and thoughts.... reaching across and over.... searching.... It is a time of being approached rather than a time of reaching out... a time of capturing feathery and fleeting dreams, wishes, abandonment and passions.... unharnessed and untamed. In such moments I find my answers and approaches coming from the environment...

In the alpine meadows trees wave, calling me to sit down.... speaking of time and endurance ....taking my hand and guiding my spirit ever upward and forward... teaching me about standing tall and remaining rooted. As their branches sway in the wind I am reminded of things around me which float through my path. From the flowers I see beauty... because they coexist with other flowers as far as the eye can see I realize beauty is all around... amongst others in harmony... more significant when shared... across landscapes... in various forms. Water is compassion, soothing and movement.... it arrives from distant places, falling from the heavens... quenching thirst with its cool, clear transparent touch... It can be ingested, played in and its most basic form offers nurturance and growth. Interestingly, when tears flow they are of water.... The sun is a friend... rising every day and casting warmth it never leaves in disagreement, does not hide in fear and sleeps at night visiting once again the next day.... day after day. On the days we feel closer it displays its smile through vibrant and spectacular sunsets. Snowfall is about love.... its blanket gently falling and surrounding the spirit in white peacefulness and tranquility.... Mountains remind me just how small I am.... laughing and forever mouthing....remain humble. Only the mountains embrace the clouds when they too need a place to sleep or need to shed a tear. The clouds of course chant their dreams and dance their spirits.... always holding out a palm.... painting their faces on the sky with possibilities. In wildlife there is communication and realization that surviving is only about a few simple things.... the rest is a gift.

When I walk I walk amongst friends, love, life and beauty. There is inspiration, hope and acceptance.

They talk to me.... and I to them in the only way we know how.... quietly and magically.