Day 341 Reverence

November 15, 2015

(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.
Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance.
Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence.
Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.”

~ Yoko Ono

When life is going in too many directions at once, a walk at nearby Downs Park helps me focus. Away from the radio, television and everyday distractions, I listen to conversations among the woodpecker and squirrel residents. I engage in one-sided conversations with a curious deer that remains behind after its companions leap away in fear. 

A small sign on one of the paths explains there is an understory beneath the tall trees in a forest. I hear, see, smell and touch life beneath these autumn-painted trees. Today, I relish the kwoosha-kwasha whispers under my feet, a blending of crisp sharp crackles and smooth rustling. I walk on the brittle breath of death softened with memory’s sighs. 

Life has an understory—a friend’s laughter, a daughter’s phone call, a husband’s hug, a cat’s purr. Both the sharp and smooth mingle daily with a balanced offering. There is the inevitable treading on autumn leaves of death but the rhythm of the sighs comforts me.  

At no other time than autumn does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds...” Rainer Maria Rilke 

My gift today is an understory.

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> Day 342: Climbing the Pyramid

You can find links to my other posts on this project here:
http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html

Day 309 Shifting Sounds

October 14, 2015

(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)

Somewhere in the trees above me, I hear a woodpecker. I stop and search, especially in the dead limbs, but cannot find the bird. It is the taptaptapping that reminds me I’ve not heard the usual bird sounds on my walk in the park today. It is probably a sign that some species have begun a journey to warmer climates, even though it is not yet cold here. 

I walk frequently in the park but today I begin to notice changes in sounds around me. Not only are many of the bird conversations missing but there are no more cicada choruses and the crickets seem to have lost some of their singing partners. One has retreated to inside my house, in anticipation of lowering temperatures. Instead of the usual plethora of creature sounds, now I notice a bombardment of acorns. At my house, thousands of tiny acorns rain on the roof like marbles, and crunch and roll under my shoes. At the park, giant acorns bombard the ground, as if invisible ghosts are taking target practice. The sound I love best in autumn is the crinkling of brittle brown leaves under my feet with each footstep.

As sounds alter in nature with the seasons sliding one into another, the sounds in my body also change with time. This morning with pain in my left knee, the rhythm of my footsteps becomes uneven. When I stoop down to pick up and examine a variegated red and yellow leaf, my bones crack on the way back up. My breathing is not as soft as it once was as I catch my breath. 

In spite of shifting sounds, some welcome and some not, I find joy that I am able to hear and discern both the obvious and the subtle. 

My gift today is hearing the changes.

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> Day 310 Helping Hands         

You can find links to my other posts on this project here:

http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html

Day 288 A Quiet Tickle

September 23, 2015

(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)

It has been gradually approaching. I’ve seen it, heard it and felt it. The daily changes are subtle. The sun’s angle begins to change and throws different shadows, reveals new relationships. Some trees, as if the burden of holding green for so long, have begun to let go. The air takes on a fresh quality. Transitions that I notice first, however, are the sounds. For the past several weeks, tree frogs have slacked off, cicadas have grown tired of their music, and fewer crickets sing. Eventually the softness that green offers will change. Without the canopy, sound will escape through the holes and will adopt a new timbre. 

At Downs Park this evening, for a while, I sat on a bench overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, listening to the rhythm of the waves washing on the shore mingled with only a few remaining cricket songs as the sun was setting. Of all the sounds, I think water and cricket choruses are most relaxing and reach deepest into my spirit. As I walked to the pond, the beauty of one tree struck me. It held green leaves and others were changing to red hues but these tones were still pastel—almost pink—not the normal saturated colors we are used to in autumn. This tree is approaching the autumn journey with a quiet tickle rather than a trumpet blare. It seems to be meditating and breathing deeply, in no hurry to rush the season. 

I agree that my favorite season should not be rushed. 

My gift today is the beginning of autumn.

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> Day 289: Two Continents

You can find links to my other posts on this project here:

http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html