Friday, December 23, 2016

12.22.16 Where it happens

The small oasis of trees, in the midst of the long fields,
where deer pause and small mammals rest, 
and the Goshawk family settled for the night.


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12.22.16 As the day slid to a close

Down by the farmers fields, the day was sliding to a close. 

The main road remained thick with hard, resolute ice, 
the dirt road undrivable for a sedan's undercarriage , 
yet thick with squishy mud in the tracks. 

So off we went, down the delicious dead end road. 

Toward sleeping farmer fields, and a forest alive with life, 
and the grand rushing river beyond. Clean water is Life.



https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1173799422656840/

12.22.16 As we quietly

The ice was frozen all along the dirt road
 the snow softened by the warmer day
some mud along the truck tracks
 as we quietly made our way, crunching
 down the road toward one supremely salmon sunset 


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12.22.16 Always emerging




Always there is the emerging, from the canopy of the small mountain range, 
out into the broad high fields beyond, open with color and light 
and seeming to offer a kind of vast view of all things.

From darkness to light

https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1173375962699186/


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12.22.16 Down by the farmers fields

Down by the farmers fields this afternoon
 there were golden lights in among the tall thick clouds overhead 
 shimmering and shifting with the wind.



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12.22.16 In their life

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          This tree stands, in its life, at a corner of the small main road as it changes from paved to unpaved, watching as the river shifts itself over centuries, as the land changes, as it drinks from the creek nearby, growing lustrous leaves in Spring. 
           Tolerating early season flooding far up its trunk for weeks , then the extended drought of Summer. 
          The dry quiet as Fall rolls around, and the frozen sleep of deep Winter's rest.

12.22.16 The Goshawk Family

     Down by the farmers fields, out from the forest came the elegant buttery tan and brown and fluffy snow-white Goshawk, fierce and private and territorial, and soon thereafter came their beautiful mate .
      And right after? This year's beloved baby, fluttering along, protected and watched over with such care. 
     The three of them flying off into the small oasis of trees in the middle of the fields, as the wind picked up and the small snow fell and the sun quietly set.  


https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1173369429366506/

12.22.16 FB video It began


     It began a dark cold day, slowly morphing into 38• and so much light and color and bright. So we did what needed to be done, while the guy went and overworked the end of semester student crazies, and we instead did the holiday errands and holiday prep stuff in so many stops i couldn't believe all these people around me working or erranding were still standing. 
     Thank goodness there is the big boyo dog in this one small life who must be brought out come rain sleet or snow. 
     Because when you go down where you like to go, everything you are concerned about or learning about or angry about or conflicted about comes unwinding itself out of you.
     And all you do is stumble along, in the ice and the snow, as the wind picks up and the sun begins to set.
     And your mind emptied of things you will go pick up again tomorrow, and see if there is something to be done, or lived with at that time.
     Instead, there is that profound coming together, down wherever you choose. Or your long walk home. Or your pushing that little one in the stroller .
     You find your way no matter peace and quiet or not, to find in your opening hands the small moments, when you can come a bit undone .




https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208525857887451/



12.22.16 Don't worry be happy



In the midst of a complex time, each of us in our small lives.
 Fall-Over-Thursday here, crashing with Warm Brown Rice Salad, 
mung bean sprouts and almonds.


Slowly putting together Winter Holiday cards. 
Nice to be old enough to know how to let go and relax.

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Thursday, December 22, 2016

12.20.16 20, all kinds of ideas


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There are moments that come, like a bit ago while doing dishes, when I miss being 20, 21, living in a third floor walkup in Brattleboro in the mid winter freeze, fiddle music really wherever you went, surrounded by bluejeaned hiking booted wild young people with lousy cars and delicious cigarette scented breath, all unrequitable appetites for adventure and parties and dance and music and explorations and beer and cigarettes, and long nights writing and stark dark country drives and all kinds of big ideas. 

And then of course I remember what we learn, the longer we're here. 


Which is that times and places continually transform. That moment in time with all that happening had some delicious stuff imbued in it, and yet that place is no longer.


If you returned, just like yourself, it is morphed into a new place with its own new indelible aspects.
Which is why we are so moved to learn how to settle ourselves down, so we can let this moment, and then the next one, seep on into us, and deeply.


What we discover is that, then, any old time, we can shift our focus to that , inside of us, and have the long fulsome draught.


12.20.16 T'is a gift

'Tis the gift to be simple,
'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right.

It will be in the valley of love and delight.' 


by Shaker Elder Joseph Brackett, Jr. in 1848



12.20.16 Golden

As the day passed by, and came to a close,
above us all was the days' grand finale,
in orange and purple and salmon, and golden


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12.20.16 We tire

Sometimes we are tired, needing sleep. 
And sometimes we tire, needing peace.




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Tuesday, December 20, 2016

12.18.16 Video Such a time



Winter is such a time of rest. Outdoors all is quiet, muffled by the thick blanket of snow. Everywhere, you can finally see where our wild brethren come and go. And on each branch are the slowly gestating buds that hold the promise of Spring.


https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208497764505134/


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12.18.16 One wiggle worm




https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1168396889863760/

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12.18.16 The shimmering within

The beautiful mirror image of trees within 
the shimmering puddle of a warmed winters day


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12.18.16 A coyote

A coyote walked across this pond in the night 
when the ice was still cold. As the day warmed
 the prints became more visible .


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12.18.16 Out under


The delicate strength of undulating branches
stark against a winter sky

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