dream walkings

Marin 2020

Hawk landed, I sat hidden among the ancient Eucalyptus. She dove with fierce intention and disappeared among the Chaparral, only to re-appear empty handed. Either she devoured her prey whole or missed her target. Hidden here as the throngs pass to and fro the beach, there is some peace if one listens for the tentative movements of the smallest of birds and the potential for, the silent prayer for, a breeze to bring up the song of the trees to drown out, even if so slightly the noise of humans. I do hope they walk past ignorant of my presence and leave me at peace with the wildness I seek. Perhaps I should have worn camouflage? Ah and there comes the slight breeze carrying with it the healing scent of the wood, the seed, the fallen bits of all that dries and crumbles in late autumn. Nourishing the Earth from whence it came. What a gift, the thought rises, but no, a gift is something you are given, the joy and one-ness I feel is part of me, as all of nature is what I am also made of. There is no absence of it when I am elsewhere, only I have the power to form an imaginary barrier or grieve a separation that does not exist. Sadly I admit that I do this when I have not physically touched, tended, or ascended into the magic.