Chapter 119
These days of mine. I love ‘em. I find myself immersed in moments of pure contentment. It’s quite a novel feeling. My journeys these days are inner observations of a changing landscape or external mini-ventures that bring me into contact (distant!) with new or long-lost friends and an ever-changing vista of the world around.
Back in my home, amid the trees and deep grasses, I sit still. Sometimes, unstill, I burst onto the deck to surprise Daily, my daily whitetail visitor, who bounds back into the undergrowth to stand and check what’s happening, then having ascertained it’s only me, and she’s without the kids today, she nips back through the garden & pops out over the back fence to disappear into the trees that carpet what used to be a pasture and is rapidly becoming new forest.
I walk down the road, eschewing the overcrowded parking lot of my boundary park, just walking down the hill into the valley brings peace and joy. There is a paint foal at the bottom of the slope, where the land expands outward in a glorious sweep of green and gold backlit by the blue of the sky. I listen to the shriek of a red-tailed hawk hunting and whinny at the horses in the field by the road. Their heads bounce up instantly so they can stare at me in confusion. I don’t fit the outline they are expecting and we stand and watch each other. As I continue, they walk with me. Lupins are out – there are entire hillsides blessed with the ethereal purple haze of lupins, bluebells and harebells. Clusters of paintbrush display a lush array of yellow-orange-red hues. The gold of the dandelions has given way to the rich shimmer of deep yellow buttercups, and a myriad of tiny flower scatter themselves around the woodlands.
I walk to the top of Whiskey Hill to admire the view and the wildflowers that grow here in profusion. I meet a neighbour on the way down – for the first time despite we’ve both been here nearly 30 years. We cheer each other on.
As the world turns and chaos morphs into its latest impression of order, I watch the various interpretations of “six feet”. I know of death and disease and prolonged hardship. On this continent I hear people who have everything at their fingertips complain because they have been asked to wear a mask to protect others. For her birthday this year, my mother launched an appeal to donate to Survival International. I’ve supported this organization for over 30 years, they do amazing work, possibly some of the most important for the future of the planet. It’s bad enough, the horribly divisive situation for many of our friends and family south of our border… but go a little further, to Brazil, and your heart may break. Take a moment to see what the terrible actions of that country’s leader is doing to the indigenous people of that land. These are the wisdom-keepers, the earth-guardians, the people who live with our earth and understand its medicine.
It is all of our responsibilities to be graceful in our lives, to respect the health and rights of others to health and peace.
Do what you can to be mindful and focused in your outdoor adventures. It’s been a long time now and people are fatigued, but we can do this. It is not beyond the reach of each and every one of us to bring more mindfulness into our daily behaviour. That mindfulness saves lives, possibly your own included.
Please be kind, keep others in mind. Wear a mask when you go into enclosed public spaces.
With gratitude and love,
Kat Dancer
bodymudra@gmail.com
www.kat-dancer.com
415.525.2630, ph/txt/wtsp
