Deep Woods Bath: ImproVerse Haiku
I emersed me in/
woods, hoping to stop dying./
I must bathe more oft.
I emersed me in/
woods, hoping to stop dying./
I must bathe more oft.
There’s no silence/ in Nature, nor would I/ want there to be. (Written as part of our Creative Expressions Retreat on our property across from the Chickamauga NMP –> http://passionretreats.com/creativeexpression6-26/ )
Solo sycamore leaves catch the hot afternoon breeze and spin in joyous pinwheels on Independence Day, as if to say: “Welcome home, boy. We’re glad you’ve come. Don’t Roam. Stay.”
I have to confess: With all the things he gets done, my “little” brother Gene (the West Coast Nature’s Guy) is sometimes a motivator … and sometimes I wonder if I can keep up with him in our rural life. His Live Innovations Farm and Education Center Facebook posting from Saturday said this: March 24 at 11:33pm Had…
When the Old Woman of the Woods Calls The morning dawned only slightly humid and a bit cool for Northwest Georgia in August, perfect for a walk in the woods. My paths usually run through cedars and smaller trees on my property. On this particular morning it was clear: The Old Woman of the Woods…
Picking Redux: The Last of the Late Season Blueberries It was, they said, too late in the season to find even the last of the late season blueberries. For weeks, pickers and birds had scoured the field for the small, blue bursts of anti-oxidants and health and taste. OH! The taste! Our house chef was…
I used to take time to ground, to create, to think, to revel in nature. It wasn’t until I taught others how and why to do it that I realized: I’d stopped. Creativity is life, and I’d let myself die. No more.