Heart Shaped Rocks

Maybe you can see it, maybe you can't.
But I was racing the trash out this evening before the man comes in the AM (when it will be ten brrrr....degrees out) and the sun was dipping down.
In the dusky light, I saw it glowing bright white...
down in the ground...
at me feet...
little things mean the most ...
and everything means something...

Totems of the River, The Rocks, The Heart & the Great Heron

Fluid, moving & changing it course with time.
All together at once, yet completely distinct.
Life-giving. Life changing.

Looking down. Reflections of oneself. Reflections of the skies above.
Looking again, through clear green-tinted karma... life.
Elders, grand-fathers, heart-shaped rocks.

The Great Heron watches over me. Stares at me. Escorts me. Nothing I do goes unnoticed. So, I do nothing.

Floating in peace.

Following the Great Heron's lead, I watch, I wait...I listen.

Squirrels , badgers, beavers, chipmunks, birds of all colors and sizes....swooshing, scaling, dipping, climbing, digging. Chirping, clicking, calling.

River flies, moths, water skeeters, giant yellow butterflies and dragonflies of blue, green, white, red, purple & gray...flitting, floating, buzzing and humming.

Turtles ducking under the water & fish leaping out...
I just float along.
Watching.
Waiting.

I know that right now this is where I am supposed to be.
These are the waters I am supposed to travel through.
This that surrounds me now, grounds me.

Mother Nature tells me to have patience.
Father-Time tells me that when it's time to dive...dive right in.

The Great Heron plucks one well chosen fish from the natural farm at his feet & gives me a sideways glance. Time.
One, two, three, four, five dragonflies perch upon my leg, my toe, my knee, my elbow and my finger.
This is PEACE.
Lost and found in the eternity of now.
Watching.
Waiting.

When the time is right I paddle off to the side & perch myself upon some rocks, just as the Great Heron had perched himself atop fallen trees & the dragonflies had perched themselves upon me.
With a gazillion stone elders, 'grandfathers' as Spado once told me, at my feet...
and the biggest yellow butterfly I have ever seen on my shoulder...
I found them...
Watching...
Waiting...
Just Like Me...

Some Things I Just Love...

The beach, the blues, my sisters & my dogs...
Sweet tea, the river, brick roads & peacocks...
Heath bars, old cars, kaleidoscopes & floating docks...
Butter, bacon, bra-less days & back massages...
Homemade donuts, bamboo windchimes & heart shaped rocks...
The giggles, the butterflies, the sensation of flight...
A good nights' sleep...
Tickled memories...
Things that are meant to be...


I leave you with another video from John Michael Rose. This time it is some of his original work. He has come a long way since I first met him jamming at a small hole in the wall bar when he was maybe 16 years old. Feel free to leave him feedback on YouTube or MySpace, as he loves to hear what people think and feel. (If you go to his Myspace, he has a gorgeous version of Bell-Bottom Blues)
Peace & Love People

The Heart Rocks.

Grandfathers. Grandmothers...

In the garden, on the porch,
in the living room, bedroom, bathroom,
in the kicthen window and built into the walls.
On my desk, in the car & sometimes, around my neck.
From the woods, the rivers and the salty sea
From places and spaces that used to be
to now and eternity...

Grandfathers & Grandmothers.

"The Grandfathers are rocks, stones, things I pick up and carry with me. They are called Grandfathers because they possess all knowledge. They have been here on Mother Earth for all time and have seen everything that man has done to Mother earth. They hold all the teachings. They are made from the bones and hair and blood of those that walked before us. So, we call them Grandfathers, (and Grandmothers)."~ Spado

Having Monday & Tuesday off I had hoped to go camping, but instead ended up taking the path photographed. The hills were deceptively steep & the soft, moist clay and dirt were riddled with deer prints...untainted yet by the summers' crowd. The trail itself disappeared upon us, opening up into a hillside field. We trapsed on through to the otherside. We stopped and listened. So quiet but humming with life.

At the basin of our trail laid a quick moving, rambling little creek which fed into the river where we had left the car. We ventured down to the creek. There was a log that went across the creek that looked like a great place to sit after our little hike.

I simultaneously tried to straddle the creek and jump my bum up onto the fallen tree and when my hands grabbed onto the log...my right one landed onto this little fellow. A small heart shaped grandfather...perhaps, the soul mate to my sisters' latest find.

Rocks. Seashells. Keepers. Savers & Givers.
Grandfathers & Grandmothers. So wise...