Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I see hearts
in places where it seems impossible.
There's hardly anything there.
It usually starts with scruffy ones...
or ones that require you to use your imagination.
Some of the hearts have had a rough time.
Poor little heart - someone took a bite out of you!
Once you start noticing ... hearts start popping up right out of the sand.
Little hearts, big hearts, sometimes the hearts are made of wood.
I strongly believe they are messages from Mother Nature
left here and there for me to find.
She speaks to us in such interesting ways.
Next blog I will share what she wrote to me on her sand tablet.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
“I have always loved the beach. The smell of the salty water, the wind in my face, the gentle roar of the waves all combine to create a sense of peace and calm.”
When shared with a kindred spirit... who doesn't seem to mind me
stopping to photograph every
But do you find it as peculiar as I do to see a bird shadow
reflected off the bird bones?
It is almost as strange as the ocean spelling out the number 4.
Maybe I should go buy a lottery ticket?
Sunday, August 7, 2011
After a very, very long week without, the goddess was once again astride her mowing machine. She wasted no time in restoring order. It was hard to imagine that in such a short time how the edges could become blurred and the wildness take over. Some noticed her absence and had gifts for her to find as they knew it would be a long and challenging task.
She discovered the first gift as she raked the mole hill down. (No longer can she 'afford' to just race over them in the interest of time.) The delicate pattern caught her eye, made her heart sing. A gift from the earth!
The second gift was from the sky. So delicate and fine, sitting on top of the greenery. The breeze moving each little wisp in unison. Is it an owl feather? See the delicate coloration and banding. If not an owl, what else could it be?
The last gift was from the maple tree who was obviously grateful the goddess was reducing the visual competition. Those nasty weeds had grown so tall even she, mature maple, looked smaller by comparison. It was obvious at first glance this was no ordinary robins nest that had been laid at maple's feet so gently.
The cup stood above the straw making it very easy to see the details on the edge. Looks braided to me. And one could not miss the hole in the bottom.
I do know it is Native American tradition to put a hole in the basket or pot when the maker has died. This lead me to believe that perhaps there was more to this gifting than first thought. Humm... pottery shard, feather of an owl (symbol of death), and weaver of clay and straw. Could this be a message concerning someone I know? It is best to be aware. And yet, each gift a lovely thing to behold. So the mowing goddess is grateful because she is and probably always will be a "collector."
© 2014 Posted by Jan Ward at 7:41 AM