Sound does that.

Walking through Lithia Park yesterday without Yuki... Around one of the ponds, a cellist had set up and was playing Bach so beautifully. People were sitting on benches, listening with eyes closed, while others were picnicking. A man was at his easel painting in oils... Such a gorgeous moment with the light, deep green of tall trees, sparkles on water, and the sound of cello weaving us all together.

perfect glowing greenness

The grapes of my body can only become wine

After the winemaker tramples me.

I surrender my spirit like grapes to his trampling

So my inmost heart can blaze and dance with joy.

Although the grapes go on weeping blood and sobbing

"I cannot bear any more anguish, any more cruelty"
The trampler stuffs cotton in His ears:
"I am not working in ignorance

You can deny me if you want, you have every excuse,

But it is I who am the Master of this Work.

And when, through my Passion, you reach perfection,

You will never be done praising my name."

Rumi (not sure who the translator was; this poem came to me in an email without citation -- maybe Coleman Barks??)

Some kind of gestation...

It's been 9 months since my last post and... Here I am (Hineni).

I am in Oregon where there is no such thing as self-service gas, a gas attendant pumps it for you. I like that -- no fumes to breathe in and no gas smells on my hands. Other things I like: yummy, sweet blackberries growing all over, environmental awareness, trees, the mountains here in Ashland, the ocean and wide beaches of the Northern coast, friendly, friendly people, and all the arts and culture here in Ashland. Now to learn what other edibles grow wild around here.