Loving Mother Earth
Loving Mother Earth
This beautiful earth … it is breathtakingly gorgeous, unbelievably resilient, & yet so fragile. The wondrous creatures with whom we share our planet are fascinating, intelligent in ways we are just beginning to discover, & are to be cherished.
Just this week, I watched two fawns casually munching grass & leaves in my front yard & enjoyed hummingbirds at the feeder with their non-stop competition to rule the roost. The humidity has dropped & being outside in the shade is about heavenly, signaling that we are on the edge of a change of seasons. We had some much-needed rain, so I listened with my windows open to the breeze & the sound of the drops falling on the trees & ground. The cicadas at home have mostly stopped their song, as have the summer frogs. I wait eagerly for these to begin singing each spring so I can listen as I go to sleep each night. Thankfully, the crickets have a song to sing as well & they are still performing. Two young hawks have been circling overhead practicing their calls.
There was something going on with the Crepe Myrtles this year. Maybe you noticed it, too. They were fuller & richer & brighter than they usually are, with rows of them blooming together creating an ongoing show of pink that reached right out & grabbed my attention. I don’t know what I was talking or daydreaming about when they came into view. But, wow, did they stop everything else & demand my admiring gaze. Sometimes the rising moon catches me by surprise, which causes me to gasp &/or holler out. My husband enjoys the moon. He is less enamored with my hollering out that causes him to think something is about to run in front of our car or something is wrong. Once I explain & he has a second to recover, he is happy to drive around to find a good gazing spot.
Yes, it’s the smell of grass or wet, pine woods, the sounds of babbling water, & wind carrying a storm towards me. It is the layered long-distance mountain view & a sunrise on the horizon at the oceanfront. And, it is the way the wind feels on my skin & what it feels like to walk barefoot on the mossy earth. So, so many treasures to enjoy & behold. I love nature. I love living on this planet.
The Creator loves the earth more than I do. The Creator loves the earth more than the combined love of all people everywhere ever. Maybe that’s because the Designer takes great pride in how it all turned out. Our world is a window into the creative flair & genius, meticulous attention to detail, and communal nature of the Designer. It is shared with us, humankind, as a gift to treasure and a means of revealing the Source.
I want to be aware as I move through life, taking notice of beauty around me. I want to make decisions that represent my appreciation & care for the overwhelming gifts I enjoy. This will include getting outside so I nurture the relationship I have with nature, how I use resources, & from whom I purchase. It affects how I vote, because we need decision-makers to focus intensely on working stateside, as well as with every country & their leaders to reverse the processes & practices currently in place that are damaging this matrix of life.
The natural world is strained, weighted with the mistreatment that has been layered on over decades of ignorance & injury. Mother Earth needs our love, attention, gratitude, & yes, our vote. Show your love for her when you select leaders, by your deep gratitude, & in the ways you live & move through life.
This beautiful earth … it is breathtakingly gorgeous, unbelievably resilient, & yet so fragile. The wondrous creatures with whom we share our planet are fascinating, intelligent in ways we are just beginning to discover, & are to be cherished.
Just this week, I watched two fawns casually munching grass & leaves in my front yard & enjoyed hummingbirds at the feeder with their non-stop competition to rule the roost. The humidity has dropped & being outside in the shade is about heavenly, signaling that we are on the edge of a change of seasons. We had some much-needed rain, so I listened with my windows open to the breeze & the sound of the drops falling on the trees & ground. The cicadas at home have mostly stopped their song, as have the summer frogs. I wait eagerly for these to begin singing each spring so I can listen as I go to sleep each night. Thankfully, the crickets have a song to sing as well & they are still performing. Two young hawks have been circling overhead practicing their calls.
There was something going on with the Crepe Myrtles this year. Maybe you noticed it, too. They were fuller & richer & brighter than they usually are, with rows of them blooming together creating an ongoing show of pink that reached right out & grabbed my attention. I don’t know what I was talking or daydreaming about when they came into view. But, wow, did they stop everything else & demand my admiring gaze. Sometimes the rising moon catches me by surprise, which causes me to gasp &/or holler out. My husband enjoys the moon. He is less enamored with my hollering out that causes him to think something is about to run in front of our car or something is wrong. Once I explain & he has a second to recover, he is happy to drive around to find a good gazing spot.
Yes, it’s the smell of grass or wet, pine woods, the sounds of babbling water, & wind carrying a storm towards me. It is the layered long-distance mountain view & a sunrise on the horizon at the oceanfront. And, it is the way the wind feels on my skin & what it feels like to walk barefoot on the mossy earth. So, so many treasures to enjoy & behold. I love nature. I love living on this planet.
The Creator loves the earth more than I do. The Creator loves the earth more than the combined love of all people everywhere ever. Maybe that’s because the Designer takes great pride in how it all turned out. Our world is a window into the creative flair & genius, meticulous attention to detail, and communal nature of the Designer. It is shared with us, humankind, as a gift to treasure and a means of revealing the Source.
I want to be aware as I move through life, taking notice of beauty around me. I want to make decisions that represent my appreciation & care for the overwhelming gifts I enjoy. This will include getting outside so I nurture the relationship I have with nature, how I use resources, & from whom I purchase. It affects how I vote, because we need decision-makers to focus intensely on working stateside, as well as with every country & their leaders to reverse the processes & practices currently in place that are damaging this matrix of life.
The natural world is strained, weighted with the mistreatment that has been layered on over decades of ignorance & injury. Mother Earth needs our love, attention, gratitude, & yes, our vote. Show your love for her when you select leaders, by your deep gratitude, & in the ways you live & move through life.
Winding Roads
It was the return trip on the road less traveled, from Hana back to Lahaina along the southern edge of the island. With hours of driving on this beautiful day, we moved from picturesque rolling hills above the ocean where a small chapel was nestled, to a rainbow over the Pacific, past a waterfall through which the road crossed, putting part of it above us and the rest falling below the other side of our open, yellow Jeep.
We finally rounded to southern portion of the island, to discover ourselves following a mountain road that twisted and winded over hilly, unusual terrain. It seemed desolate, yet there were a few other travelers braving the longer varied route.
It could have been a place of danger but we were too excited to think about our isolation or vulnerabilities. We were wide-eyed at the scenery that continued to amaze us. It seemed a good thing that it went on and on for a few hours, because it was new and interesting, we were together, and we didn't have anywhere else to be. To be present here, felt free and amazing, adventurous and blessed.
Every once in awhile we topped a hill and caught a glimpse of the road before us, with it's unusual personality of herky turns and jerky ups and down. It was fairly skinny and meandered roughly through prickly looking shrubbery. There were few resources on this part of the journey, so it required preparation and forethought. It's wasn't exactly the kind of place you could, say, run out of gas.
With it's character, the land and roadway captured our full attention. Speeding was not an option because all that was ahead was unseen and unknown to us. We had read about the route, mapped it out, and basically done any prep-work we thought necessary to make the drive. Even so, one can only prepare so much for the unknown.
Whenever we would reach a high place and I could see a bit more, I couldn't help but think that the road looked like the way we travel through life, a twisty adventure into the unknown. It's not like I can look up and see the future—or really any of the delights, sorrows, losses, problems, or wonders to be encountered along the way. Sure, they can be described by someone else on a piece of paper or even studied in a photo and on a map. But every trip is as unique as the weather, time of year or day, means of travel, company along for the ride, wildlife around, and unforeseen circumstances. It's a pretty individual experience.
And, at some point you have to make a firm decision that you are going to take the less traveled route, with fewer helpers to encounter and less built-in support. But if you don't head out that way, you will see what you already saw coming over and you will see what most people get to see. Does that matter to you?
It matters to me.
I want to see—truly see, what other people might pass by without taking notice. Embracing adventure without seeing how everything will roll along can be fun and exciting, but even more it can open windows and doors into things that otherwise would not be apparent or possible. And every once in awhile you might get to a vantage point where you get to see a little ways down the road, which can be encouraging and intimidating all at the same time. It can provide a glimpse of the degree of attention needed for what is to come. Even more, it just might show you that you aren't alone on the road. Others aren't as far away as it seems from those low lying places you descend into, that can convince you you're alone. Take heart. Learn from what you glimpse. Take it all in from each vantage point. It is possible this will be the only pass by this amazing way.
It was the return trip on the road less traveled, from Hana back to Lahaina along the southern edge of the island. With hours of driving on this beautiful day, we moved from picturesque rolling hills above the ocean where a small chapel was nestled, to a rainbow over the Pacific, past a waterfall through which the road crossed, putting part of it above us and the rest falling below the other side of our open, yellow Jeep.
We finally rounded the corner to travel on the southern portion of the island, to discover ourselves following a mountain road that twisted and winded over hilly, unusual terrain. It seemed desolate, yet there were other travelers braving the longer varied route.
It could have been a place of danger but we were too excited to think about our isolation or vulnerabilities. We were wide-eyed at the scenery that continued to amaze us. It seemed a good thing that it went on and on for a few hours, because it was new and interesting, we were together, and we didn't have anywhere else to be. To be present here, felt free and amazing, adventurous and blessed.
Every once in awhile we topped a hill and caught a glimpse of the road before us, with it's unusual personality of herky turns and jerky ups and down. It was fairly skinny and meandered roughly through prickly looking shrubbery. There were few resources on this part of the journey, so it required preparation and forethought. It's wasn't exactly the kind of place you could, say, run out of gas.
With it's character, the land and roadway captured our full attention. Speeding was not an option because all that was ahead was unseen and unknown to us. We had read about the route, mapped it out, and basically done any prep-work we thought necessary to make the drive. Even so, one can only prepare so much for the unknown.
Whenever we would reach a high place and I could see a bit more, I couldn't help but think that the road looks like the way we travel through life, a twisty adventure into the unknown. It's not like I can look up and see the future—or really any of the delights, sorrows, losses, problems, or wonders to be encountered along the way. Sure, they can be described by someone else on a piece of paper or even studied in a photo and on a map. But every trip is as unique as the weather, time of year or day, means of travel, company along for the ride, wildlife around, and unforeseen circumstances. It's a pretty individual experience.
And, at some point I have to make a firm decision that I am going to take the less traveled route, with fewer helpers to encounter and less built-in support. But if I don’t take the adventurous route, I will see only what I’ve passed before… and only what most people get to see. Does that matter to you?
It matters to me.
I want to see—truly see, what other people might pass by without taking notice of or what they forfeit by taking an easier path. Embracing adventure without knowing how everything will roll along can be fun and exciting, but even more it can open windows and doors into things that otherwise would not be apparent or possible. And every once in awhile, you or I may get to a vantage point where we get to see a little ways down the road, which can be encouraging and intimidating all at the same time. It can provide a glimpse of the degree of attention needed for what is to come. Even more, it just might show us that we’re not alone on the road. Others aren't as far away as it seems from those low lying places we descend into, that can convince us we’re alone. Let’s take heart and learn from each forward glimpse that is presented. Take thew view in from each vantage point. It is possible this will be the only pass by this amazing, particular way.