One never knows what chance treasures these easy unconscious rolls of waves may toss up on the smooth white sand of the conscious mind; what perfectly rounded stone, what rare shell from the ocean floor…But it must not be sought for, or dug for.  That would defeat one’s purpose.  The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, too impatient.  To dig for treasures…shows a lack of faith.  Patience, patience, patience is what the sea teaches.  Patience and faith.  One should lie empty, open, choiceness as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.    Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gifts from the Sea.

Excerpted from opening reflection chosen and read by Bonnie L.

___________________________________________________________

Photo by Denise P.

After hearing Bonnie’s excerpt from Gift From the Sea I was in the mindset to just walk and receive…to be surprised and I was not disappointed. There floating serenely in the pond was a baby alligator sunning himself on his circular, wooden raft….so still he could have been a sculpture. As I watched a turtle came and slowly circled the raft, peeping up at the gator from time to time. Round and round he went.  Patiently and peacefully he circled the violence just waiting for his time. Waiting for his moment.

Reflection by Patty M.

___________________________________________________________

As I walked the gardens, everything heavy in me fell away.  Releasing and accepting.  The old gardens that have been there forever blended with the new.

Reflection by Jill W.

___________________________________________________________

Everything in harmony, in contrast to our daily lives.  Walking, and seeing this harmony, I say,  “Oh, I’ve forgotten!  I’ve forgotten!”

Reflection by Bonnie L.

__________________________________________________________

 

 

 

Today I was able to see, touch, and smell my way through the gardens. Exquisite! I saw that there is a little of each season in every season. Here it is, winter, and tulip magnolia blossoms are peaking; petals dance their pinkness to the ground, falling into spring.

The ground beneath me today met my feet with an array of touches. Hard, with no give. Soft but firm, a little give. Mushy, giving way. I thought about the walk of the heart, how we meet others on all these kinds of ground. It all belongs.

Photos and reflections by Amy W.