I woke to a pleasant mood, and a soggy day.
I don't know what that is that is skipping and humming inside me, but it has declared today "a good day".
Perhaps it is that all this rain is happening in warmer days, and the wet ground, is softer ground, preparing to give way to the change of season later this month.
The little stream has flooded her banks. She rushes along her narrow course, then spills out spreading herself across the grass till she feels calm and still.
A group of Canadian geese is happily floating in a make-shift lake, made of rain water and a corn field.
Yesterday before we had quite so much rain, I saw a group in another field, pleasantly traipsing through gushy mud.
I say pleasantly for they easily could have been elsewhere in the still golden sections of corn field, but they were congregrated in the mud. A mud hub.
This morning for the first time I noticed rain water flowing off the bottom of my car's side view mirror, I rolled down the window to see it better, and got my right shoulder rained on. I rolled it back up, and watched it through the raindrop speckled window.
Then I noticed some scattered flocks of Canadian geese racing across the sky.
I wonder what it feels like to fly in the rain? What it feels like on one's wings?
In another field, I saw a great flock of snow geese.
My being has assigned their image/presence a symbolic significance which I don't logically understand, but that only lends a greater magic to them, my not knowing why they effect me so, why I see something beyond, greater, more, in them, than what they reasonably are. A little song of white notes playing in a field, a swelling song of white notes filling the sky. Perhaps some part of me thinks their white feathers like dandelion fluff, and meant to be wished upon, to fly off and carry dreams through the world. "White birds is all" part of me says "that is all they are", and another part of me smiles, broadly, warmly, amused, for she thinks that the other part of me is silly for trying to see them in such a small confined way. I never know which one is the silly one and which one truly sees, they are rather interwoven through me, and I like having them both, I need them both, the science and the mystical, interwoven they form my spirituality.


As I look out my window, I want to know what things are, understand things, be connected with reality, but also always be taken by seeing how the pavement reflecting rain water appears all blue, and how it plays, weaving itself with winter's grass glowing golden. How that brings me something, makes me happy. And I don't need to understand why that is, to try and deconstruct it, to see my seeing more clearly. I'll take it as the gift it is.

I like that, about being here now, in this time period, there is so much more information, so much more knowing what things are, new discoveries, new undestanding. And yet even so life still holds her mysteries, as new discoveries, often mean shifts in viewing, and thus things do not seem fixed, rigid and solid, there is a fluidity of thinking, of seeing. And even when we think we know something fully, and completely scientifically understand it, have broken it down to its smallest parts, understand each component, and why, and how, still we can look upon it and feel great wonder. The understanding not detracting from the impact of something's beauty, in fact often one finds other layers to be amazed by. It does surprise me a bit, that Information, and a "modern age" does not keep things from acting upon us in another way, nature often inspires transcendence. It might be a lot easier now-a-days to be distracted, to be so busy running around here and there trying to get things done, that one doesn't have time to see, but the thing that interests me is, that when one does look, one feels. Color in a field, the way light hits something, the flowing of water, birds in flight, they speak to us, in words, in ways, unknown, and they have an effect. Perhaps not on every single person, but certainly on most. It must be, just how we are made.

Once upon a time, it seemed as though scientists and those who believed in "something more" were on opposites sides, looking at the world through completely different eyes. Now one set of eyes can see both views, hold beliefs that contain both. I find great beauty in that.


Ooops, wandered down the road a bit further and off the main path I had meant to walk (I was just wondering why the sight of a flock of geese in a mud puddle made me feel happy, and kept walking on from there), oh well, I enjoyed the walk anyway, even if it is a bit jumbled. Perhaps it might seem a ramble through bramble for one who might amble by. But to me, it was sky.