Sunday, December 21, 2014

light of existence

The shortest day/longest night in the Northern Hemisphere is a time for rebirth and hope. A time of introspection, not darkness. Each day for the next six months we will have a bit more light.

I just spent a wonderful week with two loving, brilliant and generous members of my family on the storm-tossed beach and in the forests of far-northern California. This was a year of loss and change for all of us. But, out of this time with them, I realized the real result was gaining more of the light of existence.

Deep in the woods on the edge of a true wilderness, my nephew shared a special stream and surrounding grove that was a refuge for him during times of near overpowering grieving and loss these past months. We stood together in silence. The grove had the power of a holy place. As we walked across the bridge, we saw that someone had written on the railing: "Rest in Peace Ashley” with a date indicating a loss this year of a young person: a sacred place for others.

The photo is looking across the Siskiyou Wilderness.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

when the sun refuses

We are in a period of abundant and much appreciated rain. Each day is mostly gray as the storms or little squalls move east from the Pacific. Everyone seems to be thrilled with the possible break in our unprecedented drought. The weather predictors are telling us that there are many cloud covered days ahead and much more rain. But, there are moments when the sun refuses to be hidden. 

Friday, November 28, 2014

one step at a time

The challenges in life sometimes seem repetitive. New opportunities for learning ─ and lessons not learned, or partly learned ─ are there to be “climbed” again and again. Watching this wonderful little bumble bee make his way up the steps made me so aware of my joy when something new presents itself. It is really only one step at a time, regardless of the time in life.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

a turn in time

Autumn: watching the trees turn and the falling leaves accumulate in windfall; winter plants beginning to bloom in our Mediterranean climate; thousands of birds migrate overhead in the Pacific Flyway as they go south….the changing seasons, a turn in time. Today, I saw a wonderful sign of spring….seed pods that were brilliant orange flowers just weeks ago. Seeds that will generate in the winter rains and produce another kind of beauty when the days are long again.

A good model and impetus for looking seriously at what works, what is no longer relevant or applicable, and what can be modified in the contemplative shorter days of winter. Some days are less fulfilling now ─ a clear indication that plans and processes need revision.

Change direction: fairly easy to say and so very difficult to do….at least at this stage of my life. 

Monday, October 20, 2014

making a statement

Our neighborhood has been transformed in so many ways….Google Buses delivering techies to and from work in Silicon Valley, new restaurants opening like mushrooms after a rain, clothing shops that are so high-end that looking at prices is heart stopping. But, in the midst of it all, a former appliance repair shop has opened as a flower shop. Really basic and just sort of cleaned out the former junk. But, the new proprietor was busily painting this marvelous depiction of flowers on the street yesterday during our summer street festival, which is called City Streets. For one day, all traffic is removed and the street is open to bikes and kids and dogs and all manner of street performers. This fine new addition to our local business certainly made a statement. Brava!

Sunday, October 12, 2014

each moment a new perspective

October brings the hint of winter, the joy of autumn and still gives reminders of summer. Summer so often in San Francisco brings fog and each moment in fog seems to have a new perspective. On relentlessly sunny days I don’t seem to have the varied experiences that a cloudy one can bring. For me, the layers of awareness, of mood, of hopes and dreams are needed, as is a more one-dimensional sunny outlook. The changing seasons, the changes in life and the hope of the future all seem to align in autumn. Preparation for winter? Consolidation of the summer growth? 

This photo is of autumn fog, not summer. Seems to be more dense and a bit darker.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Godzilla and the Golden Gate

Godzilla marches across the Golden Gate….well, at least in this wonderful print from the San Francisco Center for the Book’s annual Roadworks street fair. Each year a select group of artists create huge linoleum blocks of art to be printed by the extraordinary 1925 Buffalo Springfield steam roller. Crowds cheered each print and just to see the proud smiles of the artist made it a joyful day. I have posted about the Center on other occasions and it continues to be an artistic home for me after many years.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

shadows or sun?

San Francisco is at nearly 38° north and the change in angle of the sun through the year is pretty dramatic. I have lived for 30 years in the shadow of a small hill to the south. Mid-summer, the sun shines straight down on the street. But, I love the period in the Spring and Fall when the sun moves far enough south for one side of the street to be in sunlight and the other in light shade. It just seems so wonderful to be able to choose between the two. Probably silly, but one of the things I love about the changing seasons.

Friday, August 29, 2014

a matter of perspective

Life seems overwhelming sometimes. And, I have learned through the years that it is usually a matter of perspective. I was deep into my own thoughts and concerns today, not focusing well on what needs to be done, only ruminating on what likely cannot be done and what should never even be considered. I needed to find some healthful vegetable for dinner and walked to a nearby Latin grocer. As I came around the corner, I saw for the second time in two days an elderly man going to do his shopping. He is in a wheelchair and is blind. He uses his red-tipped cane to gauge how close his wheelchair is to buildings, cars and the curbs. He was smiling. I was not. My dreary outlook had no element of the courage this man exhibits in just doing his daily outing. It is a matter of perspective, as I am sure that he did not see tapping his way along the street as a matter of heroic effort. I did.

This photo is just of beauty. I need that today and the rain drops on this rose are simple beauty.

Friday, August 15, 2014

without serenity

It has been nearly 2 weeks since I posted. Lots of busyness and a lot lethargy. Then, that dreaded computer crash and the hours of each day seemed to change. The simple awareness of how much technology has come to be a participant in my life, outlook and even self-esteem has been a true wake up call. I have one techie friend who takes “technology breaks” and won’t look at email, surf the web or use his phone for anything other than necessary phone calls for a pre-determined time. It is intentional on his part. My break was forced and I did not deal with it in serenity or even with pleasure. I am going to contemplate when and how those placid interruptions need to come into my life.

The photo: The grip of the metal on metal seems to be much like where life has been for awhile. But, behind it is an amazing blue sky....with just a hint of clouds to let me know the day is probably cool, as our summers here tend to be. And, I love that!

Sunday, August 3, 2014

not quite universal

Awareness seems to come to me slowly sometimes, or in big batches demanding attention. Over the past week it has been about kindness. It has come to me in daily inspiration passages, in overhearing kind or unkind remarks, thinking about my own opportunities for kindness that have been missed, or those that have manifested. I looked through my journals for other times this was in my thoughts and found several quotes. I had not remembered even writing some of them down. So, awareness does come slowly.A brief internet search brings up thousands of quotes, poems and prayers. Obviously not just my concern, but one that is nearly universal!

Quotes on kindness:

Wherever there is a a human in need, there is an opportunity for kindness and to make a difference.
            Kevin Heath

Practice kindness all day to everybody
and you will realize you’re already
in heaven now.
            Jack Kerouac

The best part of life is not just surviving,
but thriving with passion and compassion
and humor and style and generosity
and kindness
          May Angelou

What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?
            Jean Jacques Rousseau

Remember there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.
          Scott Adams  

Be Kind to Humankind Week (August 25-31) was created in 1988 by Lorraine Jara, after she heard a report of passersby ignoring a drowning man in distress. She was inspired to foster greater kindness in the world.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

sharing art on the street

An artist who lives on my street has been hanging 3-4 art pieces every week for several months on the street level window screens of an apartment building. Some are collage, some drawings and few oil or watercolors. They are meant to be taken by passersby. I have been pausing each time I go by to listen to comments of the folks who stop to look. They are usually positive, sometimes expressing a great deal of appreciation. Most people look and then leave them in place. But, in a day or two, all of the art has been claimed by someone. The artist dates the pieces. Some are new and some are from past years. For those of us who write or paint or do photography with virtually no hope of making a sale, it seems like this sharing is a viable and sensible way of getting “recognition” for your work---and for clearing out your house!

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

inspiration to passion

The “artists’ book” is art that is realized in the form of a book. There are major collections of these works and the Pacific Center for the Book Arts mounts a significant exhibition every three years at the San Francisco Public Library’s Main branch. The passion and devotion of artists for their special area of work was so apparent last Saturday at a walk-through with the artists. From concept to completion of a final work may take months, even years. The central medium of the art ranged from non-traditional book forms, including photography, collage, hand-made paper to more traditional art forms of printing and the plastic arts. As each artist discussed their work, I thought of how we are called to a “passion”. In sports, dance, writing, in caring for family & loved ones, or for preserving a cultural heritage ─ what inspiration takes an individual from interest to passion?

I did not take any photos at the exhibition, but thought in this time of the World Cup, the passion of so many of my neighbors seems to be soccer and this photo might do to represent it..

Sunday, July 6, 2014

lost in the sunlight

Are we given dusk to see what would be lost in brilliant sunlight? Do the smudgy, darker days of our lives sometimes have a greater clarity than those full of sun? Or, is it that the gloaming slows us for night?  Night followed by dawn. And, then it all repeats in a slightly different variation. Life, I guess.  (However, I did get a chance to use “gloaming”…which was the word that came to me when I took the picture.)

Thursday, June 26, 2014

a second butterfly moment

Several years ago, on a warm summer day a magnificent painted lady butterfly landed on my arm. It was one of the most amazing moments of interaction with nature that I have ever experienced. We, the butterfly and me, stood silently interacting for long moments and then the painted lady moved on. This morning, sitting in my garden enjoying the soft fog-littered breeze, a Monarch landed on my arm and seemed to be observing me. It then moved to a flower, its more normal site. The photo is terribly out of focus, but so glad to have it. The poem is from the previous encounter.

When a painted lady touched my arm

Vanessa Cardui.  Hina,
messenger of truth.

Wings in symmetrical mandala:
symbol and man in a gyred dance.

You migrate from a somewhere:
on a code,
a portent, a command?

Unsure passing:
as real as death, certain as life—
signaling the intricate contingencies of love.

Oh, butterfly. Be not the trickster. 
Be the painted lady who touched my arm.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

like the belt

Yesterday, I started to put my belt into my newly-washed Levi’s. As I have for my entire life, I threaded the belt into the first loop on the left side of the jeans. Suddenly, I realized that the belt, and probably dozens of belts before this one, could just as easily have been threaded through the right side. It simply had never occurred to me that there was a choice. It started a cascade of thinking about choices that are never made in life. Something seems to work and I go with it without even realizing there are options. I know the belt issue is silly, but how I view other important aspects of life, faith, history, politics and relationships are often like the belt.---un-examined and not questioned.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

imported beauty

The beauty of nature in its myriad forms fascinates me. Yet, I wonder at what point do we look to the exotic, the imported and the unusual, but miss what nature provides at our doorstep. This glorious peony was at the sidewalk display of my local flower vendor. And, it had a tag “imported from Oregon”. Peonies were magical expressions of the fullness of spring when I was growing up in Colorado. My grandmothers and my maternal grandfather were exceptional gardeners and were tremendously proud of their spring gardens: peonies, iris and lilacs. But, it does not get cold enough here in the Bay Area for some of these to thrive. So, we import them. I love them and love the memories. Yet, I wonder if we sometimes miss what our generous climate gives us when we “import” beauty. 

Sunday, June 8, 2014

summer in the city

It was just a normal, crazy summer Sunday in San Francisco. Today was the Haight Street Fair and the aura, and the aromas, were straight out of the 60’s. Most of the folks had not been born in that era, but the medical tent was staffed by folks who had been around a long time! It was a bit down memory lane, except for a young folk group attempting “The Night They Drove Ol' Dixie Down”. I am sure they had no idea that it was sung by Joan Baez a couple of blocks down in Golden Gate Park…a classic rendition. The line for Destiny Reading was huge. There were probably 10 tables with “readers” and dozens of people waiting to find out the future. Wish I could have done that….well, maybe not today, but it would have been helpful in 1968. I could not resist taking a picture of the "no pictures" Stylish Hat booth. Probably the only rule I broke today.

On the light rail coming home within hearing distance of where I sat you could determine 5 languages….Spanish, Vietnamese, French, German and another lilting Slavic that I did not recognize. Not one word of English. I simply loved every minute! What a day.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

life's mysteries

So many things seem to be mysterious in my life. Why things happen, how events unfold and how the lives around me progress….all have elements that are simply unknown to me. It doesn’t mean they are unknowable, I feel. Yet, there is an element of incomprehension. Does it mean paying more attention? Or, is it best to redirect attention to what is knowable. I can balance out the priorities and, yet, there is that challenge that I think sometimes drives me forward. Or, do I really know anything as absolutely certain?

How about seeing the ordinary in a way that makes it kind of unknowable at first sight? It was fun to take the most mundane objects and try to photograph them as unknown or unknowable. 

The photo is of my spoon after eating cereal for breakfast....the sun is shining from across the room.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

common ancestry

Each year the Carnaval parade wends its way through the Mission District for several hours on the last Sunday in May. Other than the joy of the participants and spectators, the awareness that I take away each is year is the devotion to heritage. This amazing “warrior” had already walked more than a mile barefoot in the ceremonial dress of his people. My heritage is less colorful, but our common ancestry crosses all cultures and I am glad to be reminded….and included.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

take the time to look

When thinking about loss and death, it seems equally important to identify with life. In my small garden this morning I saw a Cabbage Moth, my regular tiny Painted Lady, our local Julia (the photo) and surprisingly, a Large Yellow Sulfur butterfly. Additionally, four kinds of song birds and a noisy pigeon couple were brief visitors. One squirrel and many varieties of insects clamored in the old Italian Cypress. All living and reproducing and changing form in and around my potted plants. I don’t have to search far for renewal, but the lesson is that I must take the time to look.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

a long walk on the shore

Walking along the shore, listening to the unending and sometimes gentle pounding of the surf at low tide, breathing the constantly refreshed sea air has been a refuge for me for many years. The long thoughts that seem to be natural to the long views are comforting and help to put the highs and lows of my life in perspective. We are dealing with the second major loss in my family in one month. I am somewhat peripheral to it….physical distance and the impact of time. A long and solitary walk, nothing man-made in the view and time to absorb the chill of the air is much like my internal processing of loss and grief. I gained both awareness and comfort. But, the long walk must continue.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

a neighbor with a black mask

Nature has so many aspects here in the center of San Francisco. I have been a minor bird watcher for many years and thought I knew most of the permanent residents and many of the transients. Yet, walking in the park near my home, I saw an amazing red bird with a black mask that I had never seen before. I spent a whole lot of time trying to identify it. Finally, got it…only to discover that hooded orioles are common in palm trees in our area….and the next street and the park are lined with fact, famous for them. I have lived in this area since the 60’s and had never paused to identify this beautiful little permanent resident.

The photo is not very good, taken with the lens zoomed way out and it was dusk.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

the ordinary

A long walk yesterday through the City with various appointments and a little shopping seemed to be pretty much the ordinary. A brief and blessed little downpour made it very much like Spring, though. I passed a gardener’s truck with some plants on their way to a new home and saw for the first time since my childhood a beautiful type of woodbine--the sort without flowers. Then, a bit of cheerful noise from a playground and a nursery school’s children were running through the wet grass, frolicking with a dog who seemed to be part of their entourage. And, finally, I was stopped by a lovely little front garden with blooming iris. I did not have my camera, so I am substituting this beautiful Iris that I saw earlier this month at the SF Botanical Garden. Sometimes it is enough to just get out into your world!

Friday, April 18, 2014


The passiflora incarnata was seen by missionaries in the New World as a symbol of the passion of Christ and as a positive omen for their missionary work. This photo was taken in the San Francisco Botanical Garden last week.

Holy Week brings the transitions and changes in life to an astonishing focus. The passion of Christ, even as a myth or story, reminds us that the daily cares, losses, joys are for a short time. This too shall pass. One of the prayers in the Episcopal daily office asks that “we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life” find comfort in knowing that ultimately there is “changlessness”. This theme is central to many of the major religious traditions…in fact, seems as much Buddhist as Episcopalian!

It is thrilling to see each bud, each flowering tree showing newness, but still much like I remember from years past when observing the same plants in my garden. Seems like a window into “changelessness”. May both the Easter season and the transition from winter bring comfort and even joy in rebirth.

Monday, March 31, 2014

a rejected gift

The message on the wall is partially obscured by the spring bloom.

A somewhat delicate appearing and hesitant young man sat next to me yesterday on a MUNI bus. He had objects in his left hand. He took one in the very thin fingers of his right hand and said something I could not hear. He held a brilliant blue bead and repeated so very softly, “bead”.

Stupidly, I said no. I did not ask him about them or even acknowledge that he was offering me a gift. When a seat opened near the front of the bus, he moved there. Silently talking to himself and playing with the beads in his hand.

He looked sad. I had failed to respond to a gift. I was instantly sad and remain sad about it today. Why I did not respond to another human's gesture is beyond comprehension. I did not even offer curiosity or a thank you. A painful experience, perhaps, for both of us.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

a small window to the past

Why do songs pop out of memory? Out of nowhere, it would seem, came the lilting tune from The Student Prince....Golden Days. I have not seen the show in decades. I cannot remember the last time I heard Mario Lanza singing it from the film....I am not sure I ever saw it. Yet, reading in the morning sunlight on this quiet Sunday....there it was. Not a favorite, not ever sung by me and yet “golden days in the sunshine of our happy youth/golden days, full of gaiety and full of truth” appeared in my silent singing memory. I think contemplating the distinction of “full of gaiety and full of truth” will be a worthwhile effort today. Was that true of youth or is it accessible in old age?

Sunday, March 9, 2014

the common air

This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe.

I have been so fortunate to have “two” Walt Whitman courses online running at the same time ─ deeply looking at Leaves of Grass line by line. My understanding, appreciation and, yes, love of Whitman has grown immensely. The quote is just a couple of lines that seem to speak directly to me.

The Whitman courses are from Harvard through EdX and the University of Iowa in their Open Courses project. I also love the Modern & Contemporary Poetry course from the University of Pennsylvania---which I have taken two years running and plan to enroll again in the fall. Check out these amazing, and free, offers if you are interested in expanding your knowledge of poetry (or almost any other thing you can think of!)

Note: I used this photo in February, 2013. It is just one of my favorites and seems appropriate to use again for Walt's quote.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

the very sigh that silence heaves

An then there crept a little noiseless noise among the leaves,
          Born of the very sigh that silence heaves.
                                                  John Keats

It is a time of great uncertainty for several who are close to me, or have been significant parts of my life. Clearly times of ending and closure.

On a walk through a tranquil park in my neighborhood, I saw this magnificent flower, spotted with drops of fresh rain. I was brought out of worry and into the presence of great beauty and peace. Presence in the moment, and sense of peace: I pray that I can bring it to those who need it, or want it.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Gung Hay Fat Choy

“Best wishes and Congratulations. Have a prosperous and good year."

One of the largest of our public celebrations in San Francisco is the annual Chinese New Year parade. Hundreds of thousands of people turn out to line the streets and cheer the marching children, shriek in mock-amazement at the lion dancers and dragons, and simply have a great time. Usually, because it comes in the midst of our rainy season, it is a bit damp. This year we had only sprinkles and it was not enough to dampen the firecrackers, or spirit.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

a plan to do better

I am surprised at a sense of let-down after the daily observations in the January mindfulness exercise. Finding a new event, photographing and commenting was a focus of each day. Quite frankly, it is difficult for me to do. I had intended to go back to weekly observations, but missed the first week. The discipline of a blog is important to me. So, today I am just pulling up a reflection photo that I love, making this mea culpa and plan to do better.

Friday, January 31, 2014

Small Stone: January 31, 2014

As we come to the end of the third Mindful Writing Challenge, it is appropriate to celebrate all of those who made a mindful effort to see their world, to interact with the people and environment and to share it with us. I am aware again of how difficult it is to make a purposeful observation each day. The way that time gets so fragmented is apparent to me, and with that fragmentation goes my focus. I always learn more about myself than I do about my world. And, I gain so much from the comments of friends I have developed here from around the world. Thank you and godspeed in the year ahead. I will continue to post at least weekly, but cannot commit to daily. Perhaps we will all meet here again next year. Today’s photo is a glorious burst of Spring at a local vendor…seems just right to close out this incredible month.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Small Stone: January 30, 2014

My neighborhood’s first farmer’s market of the New Year. Not too many vendors yet, but one woman had her flowers, her knitting and was bundled up against the chill. Even in abnormally sunny San Francisco where we have not had winter, it may be a bit early for outdoor shopping.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Small Stone: January 29, 2014

Tonight, we may have the first significant rain since early December. The clouds are deep, there is mist on the trees and surfaces. Hopefully, we will see a turn from sere to beginning green in the days ahead. People are talking about the difficulty in cutting water consumption by 20%. Nature has already taken a much greater hit. What will our environment look like at the end of this drought? (Update: .03" of rain. Most of the storm went north and to the Sierra, so at least there is some snow out of it. Driest January ever on record for SF!)

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Small Stone: January 28, 2014

On one of the busiest streets in San Francisco, I heard an incredible screech behind me. I felt a rush of excitement as an image flew past my shoulder. I felt the draft of the huge black wings. The cawing was from an enormous raven claiming territory. With impunity, the bird sat on the fence and walked on the sidewalk with an absolute sense of ownership. The urbanization of nature showed itself in full force.

Monday, January 27, 2014

Small Stone: January 27, 2014

I am pulled toward the murals of the Mission neighborhood. They are colorful, often make a cultural or political statement, and are simply a joy to me. Sometimes, though, I must admit to being mystified. This mural is on the side of a church parking garage. The opener for the garage door is rather strategically placed in this depiction of the crucifixion of Jesus. Not sure if it is meant to be humorous or not.

Small Stone: January 26, 2014

Part of the wonderful mural on the Women's Building.

My meditation group meets every two weeks for reading, discussion and meditation. Fortunately, we have been doing this for more than 20 years. Our teacher, Eknath Easwaran, focused on discovering the unity of all life as the central reason for a spiritual practice. A woman in our group shared today that her negative self image, incurred by constant mental abuse as a child, changed when she realized that all life is equally valuable. She is a successful author, works with people struggling with language problems and has a beautiful smile! I think of the Mindful Writing Challenge as leading to that unity….we have to observe and participate in our world daily. 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Small Stone: January 25, 2014

I posted about the little parklets earlier this week. Today, as I went by there was a concert….well, of sorts. Everyone seemed to be having a great time: the dancing man on the left, the dog on the steps and the babies observing. The oompah pah guy just put his horn down for a moment…guess you get to have a break when you are the entire horn section. Ah, summer in San Francisco. Except, it is winter!

Friday, January 24, 2014

Small Stone: January 24, 2014

An artist’s collective here in the Mission has two store-front windows that are given over each month to local artists to display their work, create an installation or make a statement. The Author Is, actually reads The Author Is Out ─ I did not aim the camera well. But, I rather like “is”. We get to see the work table, copies of the most recent book and we can guess what the author might be like from the other objects. Actually, that is an incomprehensibly tidy desk! This author, me, has never had such a neat space.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Small Stone; January 23, 2014

The photo has nothing to do with the post. Just a cute thing I saw at a neighbor's sidewalk sale.

After a visit to the Dr.’s office, I was waiting for a prescription in the on-site pharmacy. The building also has the pediatric clinic. A tiny girl, maybe 3 or 4, at most, was telling her mother what the pediatrician’s instructions were about care for her ailment. “He said that we should have every kind of ice cream. But, chocolate will be enough.” Indeed, chocolate will be enough!

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Small Stone: January 22, 2014

So often people write or talk about urban isolation and separateness. I find a lot of smiles and interactions on the street, in shops and in nature, as it appears in my City. We have a small phenomenon of parklets in San Francisco. A business or resident takes over a parking space and makes a public park space for all to enjoy. That seems to me the antithesis of separate. The photos above are from a delightful parklet in front of a Victorian home on a busy nearby street. It is fun, it is bright and it is friendly. Here is a link:

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Small Stone: January 21, 2014

A local bookstore has a street display of used books…bins for perusing and inspiration. One of them today was filled with children’s books. I was taken decades back  to the time when I was given the incredible gift of reading. Reading was always central in our house. Well, that and programs on the big Philco radio. But, every day there were books and magazines and time for reading. I am filled with gratitude each time I see a child literally immersed in a story in a book. 

Monday, January 20, 2014

Small Stone: January 20, 2014

I did not take a photo of the little girl with the iguana.

I woke up feeling out of sorts today. I simply needed to snap out of it. First, a beautiful cloud reflection of the sunrise just beyond one of my favorite trees down the block. Then, I went for a happy walk ─ looking for only things that were upbeat. They were everywhere. A young Latina was sitting on her front stoop in the sun holding her iguana. Both totally content. I had never noticed an outrageous plaster pig on a balcony. I laughed. A beautiful street-side planter filled with succulents was in bloom with a marvelous yellow flower. And, then turning the corner by the playground, I heard a chorus: cheerily cheer-up cheerio….the song of the American Robin. A flock was enjoying the last rays of sun on this very warm day…and singing to me. And, their song cheerily cheer-up cheerio is exactly the message I was looking for today.