A self-portrait merged in photoshop with an image of Josh's Pond in CT taken last fall,. |
Monday, March 28, 2011
You are not in the world. The world is in you.
"You are not in the world. The world is in you."
The beech tree is the last to let go and admit that spring is here.
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| In the woods behind our house, 3/28/11 |
Musing as I walked in the woods today:
In all of Nature, the beech leaf is the last to let go and admit that spring is here.
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Saturday, March 26, 2011
The geese return...Spring is here!
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| Photo taken in Concord just above Sewall's Falls on the Merrimack, 3/20/11 |
"One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese,
cleaving the murk of a March thaw, is the spring."
From A Sand Country Almanac by Aldo Leopold
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Thursday, March 24, 2011
Reflections and Indra's Net
I took this photograph at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston last month. If you look carefully, you can see me at the instant I took the photo in the upper right hand corner of the image. But it is not really me but a reflection, reflecting not reality but a digital image. That makes sense in Eastern philosophy where self is considered an illusion: Nothing in and of itself but merely a reflection of all that surrounds us. The Rig Veda has a name for these reflections: Indra's Net.
At every crossing of the threads there is an individual.
And every individual is a crystal bead.
And every crystal bead reflects
not only the light from every
other crystal in the net
but also every other reflection
throughout the entire universe.
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Monday, March 21, 2011
Important sign-posts in life decay without vigilance
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Vernal Equinox
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
When I grow old
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| Merrimack River, Concord NH, February 2011 |
When I Grow Old
When I grow old, I want to dwell in a cabin by the Merrimack.
And like an ancient Hindu, sit in silent meditation by the river,
cleansing myself in Her sacred waters each day.
With the end of my life's journey in sight
the horizontal realm of my having world is receding:
Things I used to cherish are falling away:
Some things I have discarded by choice:
Quitting smoking was the worst, leaving my mistress of enchantment.
Quitting eating fish and animals was easier but I still have cravings,
yet learning to walk lighter on the earth is worth the sacrifice.
But in most things, I have no choice:
Faltering vision and hearing going to hell,
Strength and memory getting weaker all the time.
Jobs and hobbies peter out while my friends pass on.
My dick becoming a bully stick for the dog.
Yet, amazingly, as all these things I used to have ebb away–
Here I am… not only still here but free at last:
Relieved of the burden of carrying the weight of the world,
Now it’s time to learn just to be.
I’m psyched to start!
I want to run toward death passionately,
like a lusty teenager with his girl racing toward the swimming hole,
discarding his clothes and inhibitions along the way.
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