Another American Adventure: simple joys

Friday, March 22, 2013

simple joys

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night thinking/dreaming about the little creek that runs through the woods. The water is clear, running over rocks. I wake up remembering the water and breathe it into myself, as if such a thing could be done. I think it can.

2 comments:

BarbaraMarch 23, 2013 at 11:41 AM
lovely, contemplative photo and entry.
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beth cioffolettiMarch 23, 2013 at 5:05 PM
Barbara, you might be interested in my more contemplative musings that I put on tumblr now :

Http://shoofoolatte.tumblr.com

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"In those first days, people said, a squirrel could run the long length of Pennsylvania without ever touching the ground. In those first days, the woods were white oak and chestnut, hickory, maple, sycamore, walnut, wild ash, wild plum, and white pine. The pine grew on the ridgetops where the mountains' lumpy spines stuck up and their skin was thinnest.

"The wilderness was uncanny, unknown. Benjamin Franklin had already invented his stove in Philadelphia by 1753, and Thomas Jefferson was a schoolboy in Virginia; French soldiers had been living in forts along Lake Erie for two generations. But west of the Alleghenies in western Pennsylvania, there was not even a settlement, not even a cabin. No Indians lived there, or even near there.

"Wild grapevines tangled the treetops and shut out the sun. Few songbirds lived in the deep woods. Bright Carolina parakeets - red, green, and yellow - nested in the dark forest. There were ravens then, too. Woodpeckers rattled the big trees' trunks, ruffed grouse whirred their tail feathers in the fall, and every long once in a while a nervous gang of empty-headed turkeys came hustling and kicking through the leaves - but no one heard any of this, no one at all."

Annie Dillard, An American Childhood.