Friday, December 31, 2010
new years spiritual practices
The day dawned fine, after a ripper storm, a genuine weather bomb that flooded many and changed river systems.
The beach was virgin, rain swept, untouched by human foot. But crowded with driftwood, the storm’s legacy.
Each bit of wood is uniquely shaped. It seemed to speak of the year that was. A careful search ensured, for the split fingers of dislocation, for the heavy stump of overwork, a wild pine for the wrench of relationships.
Each bit was handled. And then tossed vigorously into the sea. Putting the year behind me, throw by throw, toss by toss. Moving on …
Posted by steve at 01:47 PM
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At first the perimeter gardens were overcrowded, some shrubs strangling the life from others. My job was to decide which shrubs should stay and which should go. The pruning saw was sufficient to stunt some, curtailment by chainsaw for the wider girths. The mess created in the process belied the effort but once the smoke cleared some stunning rhodies were revealed.
As I return to tend and tidy the church surrounds I am always amazed at the determination of the stumps sprouting green or shooting off and erupting elsewhere. These vigorous natives in a violent and poisonous environment never waver from the resolve to survive and prosper.
So, wild pine, in a strange sea of eucalypts you will find a local spring for nourishment and the warmer wind will strengthen. What once appeared strange becomes familiar and endearing.
Comment by viv — January 1, 2011 @ 4:08 pm
Very vivid and well written
Comment by Jason — January 9, 2011 @ 5:00 am