Closer to the Spirit

When the signs pointing the way have disappeared, perhaps this is a bigger opening to life than you can imagine: flying blind into the future, and then finding yourself in an unexpected place, the one you never intended to go to but where you really are meant to be.

I wrote a long post last night with pictures of my walk around my block just before twilight.  Thought I took a video hoping to capture the bird songs and the rushing creek, but it was gone when I downloaded the pictures on my computer.  And then two hours later, when I posted here, half of my work vanished.

The process was still important because I was in the space of creativity.  And who is to say that this one picture doesn’t have more meaning than another fifteen or so?

Last night, bird calls were all around.  I live, not in old growth, but in trees that probably haven’t been cut for  close to sixty or seventy years.  Birds are everywhere, especially now that it is spring.  The pileated woodpecker couple has come back.  I’ve heard their cry, a savage king and queen of the forest type of thing, but haven’t seem them yet.  They like to poke holes in the pine trees right in front of my living room window.

The creek was also flowing hard and sounding swift, a rain storm between its banks.

And my writing here, though not my original narrative, is what is now my present.  The sky looks the way it did last night.  Early morning. Early evening. Twin times.  As I look out at Cobb and the subtle shades of green on maple and fir and pine and oak, their trunks a silvery green,  the sweet cry of birds unlock the day.

When have you lost your place, only to find yourself?

Comments on: "Losing Your Place and Finding it Again" (6)

  1. In answer to your question? Most of my life! Many times.
    Nice post.

  2. this is a wonderful post.
    “The creek was also flowing hard and sounding swift, a rain storm between its banks.”
    love this line, picturing the storm clouds cozy in the banks of the river…
    “the sweet cry of birds unlock the day”
    this I love because of the use of sweet to describe a cry, often a sad or angry happening made so beautiful with just one word…

    • It was so pretty. Everything kind of lavender with twilight. Turned colder today. Winter coat out. Our quince trees are blooming. Want to take a picture and post soon. Hope to by Saturday.

  3. Thanks for the evocation. Sounds a beautiful place where you live, by a creek. Here in the UK it has been raining and storming most of April and I look at sumptuous greening through the glass. I like getting lost, wakes me up :) Following your link I saw the woodpeckers, so pretty, never seen ones with red caps. They sure know how to dress.

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