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in fields of flowers. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

and soon, the world around us will explode with flowers. and spring ephemerals will rise out of thawing ground. crocus follow on the heels of earliest rising snowdrops. and then daffodils and tulips and maybe even hyacinths sneak into view. skunk cabbage joins the fray of the dance and trilliums send up their periscope stalks. jack-in-the-pulpit stands righteously in the savanna underbrush, sharing energy with jill-in-the-pulpit. and the mayapples…those mayapples wait to burst their canopy umbrellas up, protecting their delicate white blossoms. all together, it is a community of the transitory, sharing space. all thorns are set aside to regale the world with beauty.

george told us on the trail that many, many – most, he ventured to guess – do not look about as they hike. he said that it is rare to see someone stop on the trail to really notice, to pay attention, to ponder. he was pleased to see us – two strangers – standing and photographing.

for us, it is most-of-the-time impossible to hike and not pay notice. but, i can tell you, it is very difficult to hike – and really, truly pay attention – if there is something heavy on our hearts. i would think it impossible to hike – and wander in the fields of flowers – if there are thorns in your heart.

as far as i know, thorns in your heart may preclude your seeing of any beauty at all. they may predispose you, color your view, cloud your eyes to what-really-is, ruin any chance of you experiencing the ephemerally blissful moments of this life.

because – in terms of this world, this universe – we are really more like spring flowers than any other. we emerge and are quickly fading. we are gifted with ever so little time.

and, just like we are like spring flowers, we are also unlike spring flowers. we are not perennials. this moment – now – is our chance…to grow and bud and bloom.

how much better to wander in fields of flowers – of beauty – than to squander time and languish in thorns.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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drive away. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

there are people who are immersed in negativity. they eat it, drink it, breathe it, live it. i have learned – that it matters not what truth is if they can convolute it into their own narrative, if they can spin it as negative, if they can lift themselves up by pushing someone else under water – or, in some cases – under the bus.

life

is too short for that.

is too much a gift for that.

is too interdependent for that.

is too precious for that.

has more potential than that.

and we can all choose differently.

we drove away from negativity. walked down the hill, got into littlebabyscion, drove out of the parking lot, made a right and a left and a right and drove on. away.

and behind us – far behind us – we left the scourge of scowling faces, of spinning stories, of agenda-riddling, of adversarial contention.

and we drove further, further.

away.

i opened the window of littlebabyscion.

the cold air rushed in and swirled around, pulling negativity out.

and i could breathe.

and my sweet momma – through the filament of dimension between us – whispered, “live life, my sweet potato.”

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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my nest. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

i felt it as we pulled in our driveway.

most of the time i can feel this. though sometimes, i am too busy or rushed. and though sometimes, i am frazzled with thoughts. and though sometimes, i am worried or distracted. and though sometimes, i have forgotten the simplicities in the midst of complexities.

i felt it though. and it was palpable.

the driveway greeted us as we pulled in – familiar cracks along its way. the wires overhead tugged and dipped in the wind. the leaves leftover from fall and winter blew in front of us. the house whispered, “welcome home.”

and this time – this time – i heard it. clear as day, as they say.

the whisper of a home – this place i have gone to for rest and nourishment, for creative work and rejuvenation, for the growing of beloveds and the gathering of friends, for belly-laughter and sob-filled tears, for refuge and solitude. this sanctuary. this place.

as we drove – on our way home – i could think of nothing better than to enter our home, hug on dogga, throw on my sweats and comfy boots, prepare a small meal. in this place.

my nest.

“this morning, in the fresh field,

i came upon a hidden nest.

it held four warm, speckled eggs.

i touched them.

then went away softly,

having felt something more wonderful

than all the electricity of new york city.” (mary oliver)

*****

THE WAY HOME from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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the green glow. life. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

and the deadened stalks of underbrush began to show signs of life. instead of the greys and browns of winter, its lack of light and its deep shadows, the sun has drawn out buds of newness and there is a slight glow of green in the woods.

soon, that green glow will grow and it will push out all the shadows of what had been, of the eradication that had happened in the preserve, of the fires and the heavy equipment’s tearing and grinding of buckthorn and other invasives. soon, the green glow will reflect back the warmth of the sunlight of spring and regrowth and we will walk in places that are not heavy with the press of toxic plants or trees. soon, the green glow on stems of underbrush, on trunked branches of trees will distinguish goodness from that which chokes out life.

walking – in the woods – last summer, last fall, early winter – it was hard to imagine – almost impossible – to really grok – that the beauty of the underbrush and the forest was being overrun by that which would utterly ruin it.

walking now – in the woods – in late winter/early spring – still with its juxtaposition of the echoes of the dark and the light, new vegetation and old chokemonsters, goodness and destruction – it’s ridiculously easy to see the difference.

the green glow. and the forest grows.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE mixed media 48″x91″

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the fuzzy-wuzzy. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

i’m on the side of the fuzzy-wuzzy.

there is never a time i will pass by a caterpillar attempting to make its way across a busy trail without stopping to help it, to aid it across the pathway, to shield it from harm, to literally pick it up and place it on the other side, to protect it.

i have gotten some funny looks doing this.

yet, i will continue to do this. i will continue to protect, to aid, to shield, to carry tiny critters that are in harm’s way, beings that are subjected to elements against which they are not equipped, creatures that are in the way of someone else’s forward movement – by foot, bike tires, four-wheelers, agenda.

because – if one has ever been the caterpillar on the trail, threatened – even debilitated – by someone else’s negligence, someone else’s inaction, someone else’s inconceivable agenda or apathy, someone else’s aggression – then one knows the importance of others, of their care and concern, of their help, of their doing-something, of their protection.

and because we never know when we might be the fuzzy-wuzzy.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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glimmerwand. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the magic wand – infused by the sun – stood tall in the reeds. if only i could pluck it out and take it with, still full of its magic, still glowing, i thought.

it was a brilliant day. the sky blue-blue, the air crisp, the trail ready for us, quiet, winding. we pass by marshes and bogs and woods – the hoofprints of deer preceding us, crossing the way from safe-place to water source.

and then the magic wand glimmered and reached out, tapping me on the head, bestowing glimmer magic, begging the question: and what will you do with this?

i carried the glimmer as we hiked. it was quite like carrying a toddler – full of energy and zeal, ready to get down out of my arms and run, run, run. the glimmer knew that it had work to do and there is no time to spare. for the power to light dark places is not to be underestimated, the ability to drop a spark into ash is not to be underplayed. the glimmer was anxious and excited, both.

and yet, the magic wand knows this: that relighting the dark and touching the grief of flame doused by others, the pain of trauma caused by others is not easy. dark cannot be readily relit if there are only shadows and no room for light. grief cannot be easily eased if there is no corner of the heart untouched by it. pain cannot be addressed without balm to the wound.

the glimmerwand was trembling at the end of the trail, still held in my arms. i wanted to hold onto it, to believe it would be that simple.

but the wand knew better. like the extended finger of ET the extra-terrestrial, it touched the center of my chest, through down vest and thick thermal and baselayer shirt, directly to my heart.

and it told me it would always be there – this light from the sun. it would wait and wait. and it would be with me – with me – diffusing fear, enlivening exhaustion. and i could reach down and touch it any time, this glimmer, and it would warm me up from inside out.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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💚heart-door people. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

in direct contrast with the front door we pass on our way to the trail – the one that says “go away!” – there are many, many “welcome” signs at the front doors, on the front stoops, propped against the porches of other homes. big wooden signs, rubber door mats, hanging signs – all varieties of these ‘you are welcome here’ messages.

we make assumptions about other places. we believe we are welcome – at grocery stores, in bistros, in boutique shoppes, in schools, in religious institutions, in galleries and museums. they don’t really need a sign because we believe that the whole purpose of their existence is to encourage people to come in, take part in what they offer – whether it is shopping, dining, browsing, studying, being in community – whatever their mission. and we believe that we will be welcomed with open arms, open hearts.

but there are go-away-ers out there, even those without signs of loud proclamation. they are uninterested, unmoved, closed, uninvolved, unquestioning, passive, complicit. they are not with open arms, open hearts. their apathy is clear; their aloofness is cold.

we passed the magical heart entrance to a tiny home inside the trunk of a tree. i was drawn to it, for – as we know – hearts are sometimes where we least expect them. but here it is…the way in, through a heart-door.

there are people each of us know who are heart-door people. the people who are always happy to see you, the people who never turn away from you, the people who hold you when you need holding, the people who listen when you need to talk. heart-door people are not found in one particular place – they are not simply gathered, waiting for you. instead, heart-door people keep their eyes open, their minds open. theirs are doors that open into empathy and compassion. they are the comfy quilts of our lives, the steadfast longtimers, the warm newbies, the balance-givers, the standing-by-you folks, the speaking-up-for-you truthtellers.

there is a big disparity between the go-away-ers and the heart-doors. sometimes it’s easy to see the difference. sometimes it’s not.

it’s important to learn good discernment.

and then, it’s important to be grateful for your heart-doors.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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the daffodil told us. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

and suddenly, there – in the midst of dried fallen leaves and fallowed underbrush, trees not yet ready to bud – there – there it was.

and it was simply in seeing it – the daffodil – that hope was evident. next is evident. tomorrow is evident.

anything right now will soon be before. the daffodil told us.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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the way out of chaos. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

“let there be an opening into the quiet that lies beneath the chaos, where you find the peace you did not think possible and see what shimmers within the storm.” (john o’donohue)

i spent a little over a week in ireland. it was lush and magical and filled with a simple richness hard to articulate. we walked along stone walls separating us and sheep. we perched on high cliffs overlooking the atlantic. we cozied in pubs with pick-up music and dark beer. verdant, there was beauty in its countryside and in its people, in its music and its air. clover – just off the side of the trail – in the shade and still polka-dotted with earlier dew – makes me think of this cherished time of years ago.

we’ll have corned beef and cabbage, white potatoes and carrots with 20. and guinness. we’ll sit together around our tiny kitchen table. he’ll tell of his vacation and we’ll tell him of all the stuff he missed back here. and in the sharing, the sipping, the eating, any storms of this time will part – clouds shuffling back, thunder and lightning easing up. and laughter will gurgle up through the cracks, perspective regaining ground. the chaos will stay where it belongs – in the dregs, the dark caves – and quiet peace – in soft voice and raucous laughter – will rise.

and we’ll know that dewy clover and the kitchen table, the shimmering riches of a good meal and good company, untarnished beauty of shared time and simple nature will always lead the way out of chaos.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

IN PRAYER mixed media 67″x64″

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for you. not about you. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“99% of people wouldn’t notice that”, he said, “and they’d just keep walking.”

the stranger had stopped where we were. i was off-trail, taking a picture of sun as it glinted off cattails. i was precariously close to the water’s edge, hidden by dried leaves and twigs in the marshy area, but worth it for the photo. d had just given me a hand-up back onto the trail when the stranger stopped.

he asked to see my photographs and i complied. and we all started talking. george spoke from the wisdom of someone close-to-80 as he recounted stories of trails he had recently taken, of people going too fast to SEE anything at all. he told us he was happy we noticed the glowing cattails, happy that we were looking – really looking – as we hiked. he told us that “it” (life) is all about looking and learning, researching, wondering, thinking and looking some more. we agree.

i’m not sure there’s ever been a hike – anywhere – when i haven’t taken at least a few photographs. there’s just so much to see. sometimes, in the middle of our not-knowing, we’ll look things up right away. sometimes, we save that for later.

just a couple days ago – in a truly magical moment – we stopped on the trail, separated from a pond by a bit of woods and grasses.

the red-tailed hawk was still. in the air – suspended on a current, wings curled up – it was absolutely still, hovering in place. though i know hawks are apt to do this as they hunt, this hawk just stayed still as we watched. then it flew a little lower and hovered a little bit more. it never dove down for any prey; it just hovered and then landed in a tree nearby as if to say, “there! that was for you.” it was a gorgeous and spiritual moment. i won’t forget it.

the trail – in both its simplicity and complexity – is a constant reminder for us.

“it’s not about you,” it whispers. “look around. there’s so much to see. it’s all here FOR you.”

we most-always listen.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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