Hunting is not about the chase. It is a chance to experience pristine moments not available in our concrete lives. Here are a few observations made from sitting a spell in the lap of Mother Nature!

One can hear a leaf falling through naked branches, as it abandons its seasonal perch.
See the sun lay a pink blanket of sunshine, over the trees on the eastern horizon at dawn.

Gaze upon the grasses coated with a misty glaze, their blades curling under the weight.

The appearance of an architectural lattice after the summer mantle begins the descent to earth for a much-needed rest.
The winter winds which surround the dormant bud, awaiting spring eternal.

Flocks of geese provide their voices in unison as they coordinate their migration.

When you cross the woods edge you visit a world designed with magical beauty and purpose.

The pursuit of game is not a requirement.

Just bring your senses and imagination and live among the simplest of God’s creation.

Morning reflections of a new day,

sink deep into the water’s edge.

A liquid mirror, quiet from the wind,

absorbs the world around it.

Through the movement of time and space,

our existence in this world comes to be.

We hold each breath as a lifetime to be lived,

we take for granted the next moment,

savor the moment we live in.

The single most important moment in our lives,

should be your next moment.

Make each breath you take,

bringing you closer to a world of possibility.

The world of wonder,

where you inhale and exhale the future.

Listen to the trees, hear the flow with your heart,

adsorb the direction with your soul.

The wind comes in from the west,

pushing the seasons forward.

The strength of the change causes one’s heart,

to reset the direction of their next thought.

This movement, through falling leaves,

allows one to walk among the past,

nature’s cushion for the future.

Stand still and inhale the crispness of the dawn,

you will be reborn!

Going beyond the comfort of your evening slumber,

provides your soul with a new horizon,

your heart, a direction not taken.

Whether it is viewing the ripples on a placid lake on a summer morning,

or breathing in the aroma of pines in the woods,

the gift of today is a reward for being grateful and believing in miracles.

Life is blessed at the dead end of a road, surrounded by the mystical life of a marsh. My love and I sit in the center of this gentle innocence as we long to stand tall as a marsh reed in obedience to nature’s unity and structure.

We are so blessed with sight to behold nature’s treasures, our hearing fuses with the symphony of sounds and feelings to embrace the winds that surrounds my existence.

Sunset casts shadows behind the cattails like vertical stewards on the creek. The flow of the creek only rests on the momentary reversal of tides.  It is a rural collection of activities by God’s creations.

Red-wing black birds light softly on the reeds.  Tree frogs own the vertical world. All sounds are layered on a southwesterly wind which settles before the disappearing sunlight.

The musings of the cicadian choir, altos and sopranos, as they throw their voices in octaves of pure delight. They communicate as a social order, lending their voices on the morning breeze. The soft melody of clicks and clacks are musical notes carried by the wind, celebrating through their vibrations the excitement of the order.

Finally, the guttural cry of a blue heron as wings cast a shadow on the creek, gliding with stealth above the spiritual flow of the incoming tide.

It is as if the spirit of the marsh has summoned all to enjoy the serenity of the moment.

Float me spirit on the wings of time,

to perform the thankful duties of living a good life.

As we settle on this venerable porch, holding a therapeutic cup of coffee, we are filled with gratitude for a season past.

In an extended gesture of kindness and generosity, we have been fulfilled as we have experienced a special season. Seems our fortunes move on a tidal flow as our heart overflows with thanks.

Sitting for hours amidst the grass of Blackwater Creek, we watched as nature took wing to land in trees whose time has passed.

 Black-tip gulls feed on the tidal feast and bring life to the marsh with their cries. All of nature performs while we observe from an elevated perch, we long to ride the wind and carry out God’s creative purpose on our own set of wings.

The journey through seasons has deepened our respect and love for our blessings and the generosity from two special souls who know love only too well.

With the commitment of our combined spirits, we ask our Great Creator to bestow blessings and deliver on angel-wings, a heart-felt thanks for the gift from two. 

The ethereal plain of the universe, above present consciousness, was met today. The stepping out beyond a conscious mind provides a healing touch.

This internal awareness of a healing presence is a trip well taken, no pharmaceuticals required, only the gathering of energy, through outstretched hands and heart.

Know that this connection is truly immersed in all levels of our being, providing our purpose for living well.

Remnants of the past season stand quietly in the amber glow of the setting sun, as a flock of turkeys take evening stage. Each hen sings the gathering song,upon lighted wing they move to their evening roost.

Northwest winds usher in the evening, while the setting sun paints the hillside. How magnificent the still of night flows across tilled fields, settling the day into night.

As evening spirits gather to plan the next dawn, winds signal the final light and cover the land ’til dawn.

I sit humbled by the strength of the forces that move the day into night. The turning of light into dark and again into light holds the gift of moments to come, with blended harmony and the peaceful quiet.