spring is doing its thing.
it is quite a miracle to witness the ground opening as the itty bitty tips of new plants push their way through and that they simply know exactly what to do. 
this last week sitting under a tibetan cherry tree, also known as a paperbark cherry, its latin name prunus serrula i overheard a gentleman tell a group of school children how it is that dragonflies are such terrific hunters, oh sure, he said, they are beautiful but what hunters they are. one young boy trying not to shout is glorified by this news. awesome! he says as he falls to the ground and takes a tumble and a roll about in the spring grass. he is so happy to be here, this is what he says. i want to drop to the ground with him, but i don't and when they walk away i smile a smile that begins from within and stays with me through my writing and into the day. 
xo 

last day of march

the skies opened and rain the size of nickels bounced off the thirsty ground
(this gift about a minute and a half after i started the lawnmower!)
now there are crystal water drops on the tips of swollen buds and branches
and the greens are brilliant
it is a time of newness..
birds, peepers, flowers
a time to plant seeds
and practice faith

here we are into the month of march

in like a sparrow, out like a raven?

or some such thing
last night/early this morning
i had a wonderful dream
as i witnessed four birds
ride the backs of one another
in size, from very small to quite large
then in some unspoken/unsong moment
they tumbled into a free fall/dive
and i was there with them!

we arrived back from our annual 'pilgrimage' to the baja sur,
this time spending most of a month in la paz,
a lovely city
full of sounds, sights,
smells and some new tastes.

to all creatures, and all of us who share this amazing world

it is the small opening moments: the vulnerable trust of a new born, the desire to seek light 

and give thanks to that which helps to nourish and nurture us each, and one another.

it is so easy to turn the head away from that which 

we think it not for us,

so easy to forget that each moment is a gift..

i want the moments, all of them: the joy, the surprise, 

the missing of some things, not enough of others,

the sorrows that hold up my bones, 

the laughter that vibrates my teeth. 

i want to be surrounded by things, and loved ones 

that remind me to be and do better. 

to hold up my head and sing praise, 

to drop to my knees to give thanks.

xo

stillness and simple beauty, there is such an abundance
that sometimes it is 'hard' to recognize what is right in front of my eyes..
a good lesson and reminder of unconditional love
and being in the moment
i feel blessed to once again be able to communicate
and hopefully share.

more soon
xo

yesterday was our baby boys birth day, a very kind and special young man is he! xo

it is so odd not be in close living distance to so many loved ones,

and so the phone and the emails and the old fashioned, much loved by me, snail mail

becomes so important.

each of these the thin thread that binds and connect and weaves us into a web of wonder.

here in todos santos we are feeling each day the sun coming a bit closer to the earth;

thus each day becoming a bit warmer, a bit earlier.

there is also evidence that the whale too are returning north

as the viewing of them becomes less seen and even more special.

i read of the death of robert sherman, the man who made famous

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

and for whom mary poppins

was able to sing, dance, fly,

and help to teach me to believe in magic

so to him a big shout out of thanks

and to you my friends and family

who have taught me too to

sing, dance, fly, and believe

i send love

xo

hola

as february begins to wind itself down and the next page

says march

i am thankful for so many things

and people in my life and heart

and for the vast opportunities

to continue learning;

about myself

and about community

and conversation

and also in

the art and act

of being quiet and still

...

beside me six shelves of books

that i think of as a new morning,

the way it feels and looks

like a dozen fresh and cracked eggs

swimming in a clear glass bowl

cloudy

yet somehow clear

colorless but for

a yellow streak

that reaches its fingers

out to wake me

words and thoughts;

thirst

evidence

blue pastures

psalms for praying

eyes to see otherwise

all this in the house of belonging

all this bringing me to

sweet tears

...

when we arrived 'home'

last night it was with the

the sound and look

of a pair of owl wings,

and then the

high pitched scream

of the wild mother chicken...

her sadness was so complete

and heard

it feel into my breath

and bones

all night i slept

with her

in my thoughts

and dreams

and the thought

of the rooster,

wondering how

he could ever

console her

his poor helpless arms

too short

to wrap around her...

and this morning

he still was the one

to announce

this new day

...

gracias