heart to head


I had a lengthy post written up to post yesterday, on the New Moon, but never got it published.  This morning I feel more like keeping it simple.  

I've been quiet around here and other online places because we have made the big decision to move back to Oregon, Salem this time.  In short, it's simply what is best for our family right now.  It's a decision of great happiness, to be back in the part of the Pacific Northwest that is truly home, with forest, fog, ferns, and sea, but also great sadness, leaving behind my family that lives here and mourning the loss of time spent with them.  I didn't deal very well with the suddenness of things happening alongside the chaos in the world these days, withdrawing from everything until my heart caught up to my head.  In the silence I found acceptance, if not peace.    

Last week we signed on the sale of our little house here and this week we hope to hear a closing date for our soon-to-be home in Oregon.  In between, we took one last trip to the Blue Mountains, tucking wildflowers and hawk songs into our hearts and minds.  

My camera is already packed away, our outdoor adventures here having come to a close for now.  I'll be busy boxing up the few things left unpacked in the next few days, and I won't be posting here again until sometime after we are settled back in Oregon.  Until then ~ xo

true sound


We are officially in Phase 2 of reopening here in southeastern Washington, and while I am looking forward to doing some things we haven't done for a long time, just getting out into the wild is a sublime thing. 

The evening we went to the river in these pictures, I put on my rubber boots and straw hat, took my camera, and wandered through an undiscovered wood.  I foraged, sniffed, gazed, and touched.  I took in textures and colors, shadows and sparkles.  Perhaps most importantly, I listened.  

I've been doing a deep dive back through years of posts here and seeing how my relationship with nature and the elements has given me so much.  I hope I have been a good steward and that I have given back as much as I have been given.  Listening, which for me is also feeling, has been a constant theme and, paradoxically, a guiding light.  

I've been thinking a lot about the essay by Jay Griffiths I posted about last November, but also about acoustic ecologist Gordon Hempton's Sanctuaries of Silence, which I first heard on the Emergence Magazine podcast and then later watched the film.  Highly sensitive types love silence, and I am no exception, but by silence I mean no human sounds.  Gordon Hempton defines silence not as the absence of sound but the absence of noise from modern life.  Can I get a yes?  I feel this deeply when I'm out in the wild and it's one of the reasons I love it so much.  For me this is true sound - sound free of human static.  Hempton's work and projects are so wonderful.  The last link below is excellent and talks about several of them, if you are interested.  

Some links you might enjoy

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

We Need an NRA for Nature.  

What Hangs On Trees.


Silence and the Presence of Everything.

Until next time ~ x

by mlekoshi