Small stone: January 29, 2012

A raven pair soaring

and swooping nearby hills and park

for much of the winter. Today,

an escort of several juveniles:

an unkindness of ravens. 

Small stone: January 28, 2012

My journey of the small stones is about reflecting.

Overhead startlingly blue, but wind-shimmering water

fragments the moment.

A friend’s loving old dog mirrors affection,

whole and accurate.

Sky, water, human, dog.

Small stone: January 27, 2012

A friend slices the banana

into his cereal in unequal size bites.

Seems like lack of attention to proper order!

He says, “I like every bite to be a bit different.

Lesson learned.

Small stone: January 26, 2012

Feeling unconnected and unobservant.

Walking past the cabinetmaker’s shop,

a primal scent: freshly cut oak.

I am suddenly present,

yet deeply in the past.

My Dad cutting wood.

Small stone: January 25, 2012

Trees. Companions on this journey,

admiring how they survive.

Question this morning:

When is my bark protection, when a scar,

and when is it simply the outer part of me?

Small stone: January 24, 2012

A day in my head. Couldn’t avoid

seeing patterns everywhere

as I walked in the brief sun between storms.

Tried to find fractals and emergence

and all kinds of theoretical

stuff, but ended up with

Acacia and some sneezes.

Guess I am still in my head.

Small stone: January 23, 2012

It's often a struggle:

is my awareness important enough to share?

How wonderful that a music lover

thought to build a lake with small stones

and a swan for all who pass by this window.