Countless ancient traditions point out that evil cannot cross fresh, running water and so proximity to a river or creek is advisable when your thumbs are pricking.
Other than exquisite wildflowers (lupine) and glittering lizards, everything in Texas "stings, sticks or stinks" according to my grandfather. He bade a not so fond farewell to Ft. Worth to live in Mexico City & San Miguel. Enjoy the respite.
I needed that creek--thanks. Aside from one cousin in TX and the yellow rose of course, I agree with everything you said. Oh, when will they ever learn?
It’s a nice creek. Currently in CA, most creeks are dry, even when they’re not called Arroyo Seco. Small beach coves may be the closest most of this state gets right now to sitting by a creek.
Monterey Bay Aquarium has always been a peaceful spot for me, given how soothing water is for most of us. Garden centers and nurseries seem to help me, with all that pleasant sensory input—away from the plantless areas.
I wish there were some redwoods planted nearby, as that scent and their strong presence grounds me. John Muir called redwood stands ‘redwood cathedrals’: when in a space surrounded by them, with sunlight filtering through, my spirit agrees.
As to that, the parks and forests, so badly burnt in the fires in Santa Cruz County CA, are beginning to reopen.
Just running from the ungodly sick mess I’m still not sure I’ve survived, but who cares, it’s a spectacular trip! NC is breathtaking. Definitely thinking about spending 6 months plus one day per year here (taxes) somewhere. Keep it in mind when the time comes for that little college town.😀
On dark days, I remember a small creek in the Lanark highlands that runs down a wooded hill on a few hundred acres I steward out there. The sound of that creek as it laughs its way over the rocks, down the hill and over to the beaver pond sustains me. Ditto the light flickering through the trees and over the running water.
Other than exquisite wildflowers (lupine) and glittering lizards, everything in Texas "stings, sticks or stinks" according to my grandfather. He bade a not so fond farewell to Ft. Worth to live in Mexico City & San Miguel. Enjoy the respite.
I needed that creek--thanks. Aside from one cousin in TX and the yellow rose of course, I agree with everything you said. Oh, when will they ever learn?
When they realize where all the flowers have gone, it might be too late.
It’s already too late.
I’m afraid so, dammit
Love your humor, darlin', from Texas and wishin' I too had a creek.
Worry about the “unborn”, but once they’re out of the womb, it’s open season.
Speaking of white-male-Republicans, I like what Margaret Atwood did with a flameproof custom-printing of The Handmaid’s Tale: https://www.snopes.com/ap/2022/05/26/burn-proof-edition-of-the-handmaids-tale-up-for-auction/
It’s a nice creek. Currently in CA, most creeks are dry, even when they’re not called Arroyo Seco. Small beach coves may be the closest most of this state gets right now to sitting by a creek.
Monterey Bay Aquarium has always been a peaceful spot for me, given how soothing water is for most of us. Garden centers and nurseries seem to help me, with all that pleasant sensory input—away from the plantless areas.
I wish there were some redwoods planted nearby, as that scent and their strong presence grounds me. John Muir called redwood stands ‘redwood cathedrals’: when in a space surrounded by them, with sunlight filtering through, my spirit agrees.
As to that, the parks and forests, so badly burnt in the fires in Santa Cruz County CA, are beginning to reopen.
Thank you for this Sunday morning reflection, Abbie. Hit the spot. Your trip sounds wonderful 💜
Just running from the ungodly sick mess I’m still not sure I’ve survived, but who cares, it’s a spectacular trip! NC is breathtaking. Definitely thinking about spending 6 months plus one day per year here (taxes) somewhere. Keep it in mind when the time comes for that little college town.😀
There used to be one somewhere around New Braunfels. Prob'ly dried up by now. ;-)
On dark days, I remember a small creek in the Lanark highlands that runs down a wooded hill on a few hundred acres I steward out there. The sound of that creek as it laughs its way over the rocks, down the hill and over to the beaver pond sustains me. Ditto the light flickering through the trees and over the running water.