Wondering about Winter

Look up at those perfect fluffy snow flakes. Open up to them. They are simply falling, a weather pattern of absolute beauty. Softening all the edges encountered. Snow falls quietly, deafening the sounds. Or the world is quiet with snow outside. Cups of tea and cribbage are past times. Family and cooking. Having bread rise the old fashion way with a bit of TLC in the recipe. Some allow snow to be the cause of frustrations and holiday anxieties. No, no that is a choice. There is always one window into a better choice. Look at smiling faces and snuffling noses of all those youngens sledding. The snow may be gone tomorrow- so the only option is enjoying today. The presence and absolute love of the snow is unparalleled by the youth. Many love to walk in the snow, take pictures. But only those 5 feet and under really embrace the snow. A situation blossoming with opportunity of a play day anew with fresh powdery bliss. Take a page out of the snows book-slow down and never fight it for nature is surely bigger if the battle is chosen. Peace and happiness to us, everyone!

Joy of word play

It costs us nothing to visualize the moment. Awe struck in the presence of the woman. Heart is quiet, irrelevant to tempo chosen. But such brilliance to be found in this one. For the first time feeling from the inside out. Sensation of touch in every cell of the body. Imagination and curiosity streaming forth wildly. Senses are heightened to a new level of focus. Purely taking in. It is in the silence between thoughts that this presence of being lies. Such truth of this moment, the moment that starts all anew. Description of which is lost to words. Yet, an internal dialogue known at first new breath. The sensing without judging. Viewing without categorizing. A line is etched in this ecstatic present. Take in beauty for what it truly is. Then realize that you are in a participatory world.

This mirrors nothing of my current situation or sensations- simply enjoying words in a bohemian state of mind,

Gatticus

Posting for sake of

Good evening, it is a pleasant night in Bellingham. Quiet conversation with scrabble and music lulling. December nights arise too soon it seems. Daylight turning to a faded sunset with slight remorse. Too quick I say, leading on to chilly evenings. My nose is in a seemingly constant frost. Toes content only in woolies and slippers. Rest is satisfied with tea by the hour. A day to be lost in books, smiles surfacing with no thought-joy for the sake of joy. I do love walks this time of year, destined for a warm drink at the end of them. A roundabout of coffee shops with book in hand to be read. Educare - to draw out and latin informs. Though it is the time of year to cram in... interesting walks of life, not so much the gained at the end, but the process that holds all with ease. Simply must enjoy the tempo of breath-a sonnata with the soul in bliss.

An Evening Off The Beaten Track

Necessity for a quiet night. Enjoying "A River Runs Through It" along with a cafe Americano. Coffee shop thoughts. People watching and curious of Saturday night endeavors. What drives that majority of weekend activities. To what end will we lose ourselves to find ourselves. Crisp night walking home, foretelling my options for the evening. Arriving home-"Come on we are going to a hoedown in Bo Edison, should be a hootenanny!" Nights plans were set after that. The curiosity was sold at hootenanny-imagination rampant with hay bails and square dancing. Was in need of a new surroundings that night. Wonderful to get down to Skagit Valley and enjoy whatever was to be found.
Awkward directions left Matt, Tibbs and I driving around a one lane town-lost. We agreed Chuckanut drive would be excellent, seeing the San Juan lights and Anacortes at night. Luck will have it that we find mile marker 8-the missing link to the directions! Three of us walking down a long road to music at the end of it. Fog was beginning to seep in and dew the grass prematurely. A chilly night to be warmed by bon fires, dancing shoes, poi fire dancing, and fireworks. A look around to find smiling faces to greet three strangers. The spectrum of ages was wonderful. All dancing and enjoying company freely. Stories and social talk over a plethora of food and drink. None was to touch my lips that night. Enough to be intoxicated by the situation and a bright moon of Skagit. Music was wonderful! Bellingham Jam band-the whole works along with an alto and tenor sax to top it off. Simply had to move you feet and snap those fingers. Most amazing was such a welcoming environment-exchange of smiles was understood and left at that. A true gathering-inspiring to create such free laughter. Male, female, gay, straight, cowboy hat or not, all having a good time together. As the crowd began to thin we followed suit after the band finished their set. Upon leaving we were told that Chuckanut has been closed for a week due to wash outs and rock falls... The night could not have happened any other way.

Heart of a saturday night

Tom Waits quiets restless thoughts. Allowing life to occur around me-falling short of ideals. That sound is known-unspoken and understood. Am I going to take a step? Any direction or path leads on just the same. How each is traveled makes the man. Knowing that regret is unnecessary. Feeling content from the innate sense of self. I reach outwards to grasp things within my own heart. Suffocated by my own inability to expand my bubble. All the options before me and I stand-stationary. Moving at the speed of earth rotation. That is just it, the world is spinning round-I float along eyes closed asleep in my river boat. Bobbing up and down with river discord. Always a bit scared to allow myself onwards under my own wake. Recognition of the choice. The only choice-love or ego. Tomorrow is a new day, but tonight is a new night of dreams and a life to be lived-free.

Ego the author of the piece above. Writing distress for the sake of adding to the worlds volumes. Unease comes from inside-a mindset within my realm of control. Worn leather reigns in my finger tips atop an imaginary saddle. Powered by strength of will and vigor for life's ride-a full circle in the end. A circle that never repeats but travels on just the same. Surrounded by covered mirrors-bent, elongated, broken or polished perfection, all life perceived reflects the individual viewer. How to view The Yellow Rose without naming it? Essence no language can formulate-an innate understanding of seeing it for the first time. To view and understand being in one is to see in all.

Another for the world's volumes-no longer within Greg or I. "I am not sure which one of us it is that's writing this page" (Borges, Jorge Luis)

Witnessing a seasonal constant

Chuckanut ranges such a spectrum of wonder before my eyes and ears. Soft paddle strokes through Lake Whatcom. Only waves lopping the hull are those of my own power. Our whole group taken in my the stillness, emotions felt in the quiet. Words only used in disconnect. Smiles and long gazes all around. Thoughts embracing such a life resonating around and through all. The time battered hills allow the Big Leaf Maples to shine on. Still their beauty shared with the coniferous plantae blending into one magnificant whole. Attention browses from below the water line-into worlds below. Without passing throught, my immagination turns into the clouds. Stratosphere of bent light and whisps of charged humidity.

Bicycling to capture light and images. Stopping whereever inspiration sprung along the way to Larrabee. New destinations found in an all too familiar place. A special breed of folks find these wonderful places off the beaten path. A curosity leads the way with no expectation.

October Being the Salesmans Month

Thick fog keeps the days vigor in the house for time bein. Curious what to do, though cold feet just call out for more wool cozies. Another cup of tea will set right-third this morning. That is how a minimum utility house goes with the single pane charm. Fun is to be had nontheless. Wonderful sunshine yesterday. A bike ride to get lost and end up anywhere-everywhere. Then peddling the vertical rise of Sehome Hill with way too much weight in beer. Why do only I carry a bike bag? Rope swing at the top and fall colors to make you stop and listen. Quiet smiles and presence.
New choices to live by. No more settling for the well worn footsteps, my legend shows that end. It is simply too easy. Best tramping in the woods where more paths are found and followed. Breaks are taken is places of true beauty-completely surrounded by the sensuous world. Vision is present, though goal oriented.
Thicker fog rolls in still. Heavy mist fifty yards out from my chilly window perch. Third cup of tea almost gone-time for a pea-coat, scarf and a brisk walk in the crispness of fall. Much love to all, may your warmth by felt in the kitchen, fall harvests with family and friends.

G-atticus

Pedaling in Skagit Valley

Now I am writing, sore back and tired legs- smile stronger then ever. What a two day adventure on my Raleigh that gave it all to the end. Crisp chilly September mornings burning off to brilliant sunshine. Day one began with excitement and anticipation of biking with a team. Wonderful pace keepers all of us together. Fresh legs peddle peddle strong but not too hard, keeping steam for the two day event. What a joy drafting is! At times it was difficult to keep a constant pace and stay together, part of me screaming out to power up hills instead of the tedious 1-1 gear ratio. Day one turn around was just a bit further then deception pass. My youthful fears of the bridge and turbulant waters beneath has subsided it seems. I trust the structural integrity of the bridge in my older self. Perhaps my childish innocence is departed- wonders and fears turned into logical ways of life. Impressions seeped with judgement rather then simply taking in the senuous world, as is. Splended screnry all through the Skagit valley. The ride was wonderfully supported. Rest stops spaced out but close enough. Carbohydrate overdose at every stop-bananas, apples and peanut butter, granola bars and all the drinks needed. My hat tips off to Alison Delong. The organization and effort put forth to keep all the riders happy was orchestrated to perfection. I was impressed during the ride, little did I know that free massage, spaghetti dinner and a beer garden awaited at the end of day one. The live music as well! U2 cover band AND a Police cover band. Same group, but I think the change of clothes may have fooled some. I was a cheap date on the local hefeweizen. Team bunnie love, tired and well fed headed back to home base of Dick n Kathy's on Samish island. A futon was warmed up and me sleeping in it before the sun was down. A well spent day, unsure of the health I would feel in the morning. Morning started pre dawn with fresh eyes and remarkably ready body. Stretched out a bit and off we went to get the bikers breakfast. Such fog. In the ocean of white, trees and houses were etched atop clouds on our way into Mount Vernon. My one dismay awaited, coffee was not up to par. Far from the snobbery of black bean lovers at the Mack house. But its function was served. Chilly mornings were remedied by constant movement and stretching. Biking jerseys sheilding nothing of the morning elements. Wind ripping through, cold all the way into my lungs. 20 miles later and a non designated rest stop at the farm to market bakery in Edison set me right. Real cup of coffee and a cookie then peddleing off to Samish to do the loop. Had a bit of bike mal function, but eager to help bikers chipped in necessary tools and away I peddled on a five speed. I only use about three gears anyway so made no difference. I knew my bike was on its last legs. To the finish line it carried me well, but little further. About two miles out from the Sunday ride finish, my back break clamps down with no releasing. Coming into the finish line, pushing through the back break and no front derailer-huge smile on my face. We had done it. A final send off tour for my Raleigh 502. The bicycle I fell in love with. Embracing the passion of seat in the saddle feet atop peddles. Crossing the finish line I was thinking of the giving tree story, a well known literature of my youth. My trusted friend had given all its road worthyness in the end. Perhaps now a new walk of life awaits it. A water wheel is rolling in my head. Day two complete! Hamburgers and tube steaks were on the menu, as for dessert-laying in the shaded grass. Cool, crisp and so refreshing, it still felt dew ridden from the morning even. Exhaustion was setting in now. Just one more burst of wind was needed, to get me into my bed at home. Mama Mack had such delacicies at home, meatloaf, pesto pasta, apple crisp. I do wonder how Mack boys get along without her loving kitchen. It certainly does keep us close!

The Cosmos Align

The energy bubbled in me throughout work. The off and on downpours hitting throughout the early morning and late afternoon. Spirits riding with a smile on face. Quick embraces upon meeting, shared anticipation and vigor. We all knew we were going forward into such a colossal event-a waiting in the making of seven years. Soon to be observing our Oxfordshire musical masters before us at nightfall. Then to sit and wait for our party to arrive, working late and no parking comments. Rushed greetings and off to the car. Finally moving; how fast the trip would be-unknown. Rain patters the windshield within the hour. Not fazed, Seattleites prepared mentally and physically. Nothing could have killed the wonder inside us. What melodies would lick our ears and move our bodies sway ward? Stress does haunt us as driving into the bottleneck of the final stretch. Five miles to the venue with clear skies above us-In an entropic existence, the ways of things are falling into place.

Friends are joined and hugged. Intensity rises as we reassure each other of our good fortune. The cosmos were certainly with us on this day. Chatting and watching from the lawn, more friends seen and greeted in proper fashion. And oh such friends we have! Bryan meets up with Company in the Pit and rallies them to give up their arm bands for the rest of us. With three bracelets in hand he returns. After exchanging our amazement the first three rush in then one out with arm bands in hand. After the first exchange I was in with John and Joe. Stage lights are bright and crowd is roaring, Radiohead is right in front of us. I see their expressions and watch their eyes. Calm and calculated as they turn us meandering through their profound albums of Hail to the Thief, Ok Computer, Amnesiac. All laden with embrace of such a moment. Crowd hung on a string of the sensuous world around us all. Lights and intrigue felt with tremendous instruments. Artistry appreciated and complete awe at our change of fortunes. We dance and bob with the music slowly as we continue in the radiohead world within us. Drumming with fingertips then legs and arms-to the head aloft with eyes closed at times. Only needing auditory focus. Brilliant life. Their ability to absorb the crowd. Up and down with song progression. Transition from emotion to emotion. It was a seamless night with a glorious coda. No amount of rain could splash those smiles off our face. The entire ride home we all assured ourselves it was the best concert ever and exchanged experiences. Those same endorphins flooding through my body hearing radioheads mastery days later. I will carry these memories with me all my life with peace and joy to look back and share

And time stops for two days

A weekend started in spontaneity. Our party only finally getting together after sneaking into the ferry parking lot, all knowing a full weekend awaited. So a ferry crossing it was, sight of old class mates from across the bow-points and waves, all gestures used when sound is distant. Then a long dark ride in front of us. A full moon rising west and hiding among the trees. Our destination is lost and reassured as dusk turned to dark-suddenly second guessing our routes. Spirits ride high as anticipation lead to excitement of past trips and stories told. What stories were to be imprinted on to our faces as smiles this time?
A late set up and fire light. Full moon now guiding our steps in the clearings. Fewer senses help us navigate the forest floor. Merriment commenced within the hour. Feast awaited after a ferry line consisting of granola bars. Even a smore of two before the sand man sprinkled us to sweet dreams. New day excitement after second waking-predawn just too early on vacation. Upon second rising, the fire is being lit. Quiet mornings while camping. Wind will not pick up for hours and now we settle into our time. After some breakfast and a bit of of a swim we were off. In search of rumors, cliffs awaited and a rope swing to explore. Hiking along above the lake edge, wonderful sloped hillside, natural clearings different in foliage and species along the way. Excellent trek. Around a far corner we heard laughter and the punch bowl awaited. Not a second was given to my ego for fear to creep in. I jumped once the bag was off my back. A wind rushed fall to a depths plunged into calm water. People cheer on and shout reassurance disregarding their own fears. One by one we jump. Stone faces above to relieved smiles upon breaking the water surface and reentering the terrestrial landscape. After adrenaline subdues our intensity we head for home. Tired legs take us back to where we believe the rope swing lay dormant. We do find it after navigating our path through thick forest floor atop fallen trees. In total 6 trees zigzag across each other to lead us to the base of our giant Douglas fir hanging over the water. Totally marveled at what lay before us. One for the imagination to fully grasp after that first free fall jumping off the tree to the side. Tarzan moment through the air. No sounds put forth, only breath held tight. Thirty feet down the surface tension is broken easily. Swimming back with smiles layered on smiles. Adrenaline drained after reaching the beach, anticipation for the next jump already building. We jump and laugh with the local crowd-as morning turns to afternoon we proceed in our triumphant leaps over our quiet domain. Leaving behind memories and vows of return. Quick packing to the start of a quiet drive. Grannies cafe breakfast awaited-a fresh cup of coffee included!

Summer found

I have found my summer of smiles in all of the small things I did not expect. The quiet conversations and sunset rides. Hardships have been vexing and self perpetuating. But facing them is the only way to mow them over. There is still much that needs to be done with my time. Treking in the woods to cook on a fire. Dip into hotsprings or icy rivers. Find my feet above me lounging in a hammock with smiles side by side amongst friends. To being caught with a quiet wind, each leave conducting its own melodious harmony. The senuous world surronds us always. I need not search the earth ends for experience. Explore all that is to be discovered outside and inside first. Learning of the world is learning of the self. Life is a game, it is in the persuit of perfection of the game that we live undaunted.