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.