Let go of the mind, the thousand blue

story fragments we tell ourselves

each day to keep the world underfoot.

If you can awaken 

inside the familiar

and discover it strange

you need never leave home.

–Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser, Braided Creek: A Conversation in Poetry.

— Opening reading chosen and read by Amy W.

On this already-hot first-thing-in-the-morning walk at the state park, my walking companion and I chose a shady path through the woods that ended at a wooden boardwalk out to a covered dock over the inlet.  When we had entered the park, we saw from the causeway a good number of spoonbills, wood storks, egrets at a distance, mirrored in the still water.  It was magical.  We hoped for a closer look from the dock.  

Peggy and I had not walked this path before.  She voiced a fear that we might get lost, but I assured her the way out was the same as the way in, though we might see different things in each direction.  Although the path was new to us, the woods there looked like the surrounds of most every path we had walked.  The only sound was birdsong.

My insight today: when we see what is familiar as strange we can respond with wonder and curiosity, or fear, depending on our lens.  Awakening, opening ourselves to discover the strange within the familiar takes courage.  We free ourselves when we don’t require the familiar to be as we expect, in order to feel at home.

— Photos and reflection by Amy W.

Clouds dancing in joy

Bird chorus triumphant bliss

Discover it new.

— Photos and haiku by Nancy L.