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- Finn Beales: Exploring Morocco’s Atlantic Coast on a camel (Thank you Sawsan)
- Background on Caleb/Wednesday/Hump Day Posts and Geico’s original commercial: Let’s Hit it Again.
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Yesterday, Sunday afternoon.
No rush hour traffic. No meetings. No conference calls. No deadlines to hit. No work tomorrow.
No lower back pain. No shoulder pain. No bite from cervical spondylosis. Body at peace.
I exit down the ramp onto I-95 South and head home from running an errand.
I’m driving directly into the sunset. It is of such indescribable beauty that it triggers Mind to think of God. And then, No God. And then, Heaven. And then, no Heaven. And then, my late Brother. At which point, I kill the heat and lower the window to let the late winter chill fill the cabin. Need to feel alive.
Lori introduced me to “e·phem·er·al” (adj.) /əˈfem(ə)rəl/. Lasting for a very short time. Fleeting. Passing. Short-lived.
And to “e·the·re·al” (adj) /əˈTHirēəl/. Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world. Beautiful. Graceful. Delicate.
And I reflect on how few of these moments, I have. Not chasing. Not rushing. Not anxious. Not obsessed by Next.
And Lori again, this time with “epiph·a·ny” (n) /i-ˈpi-fə-nē/. An illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure.
Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have understood what Kerouac meant. It wouldn’t have registered. But here it is, slowly seeping in.
“Bless and sit down…and you will realize you’re already in heaven now. That’s the story. That’s the message.”
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Behind me the sun settles
into the sea but I’m facing
a fire flickering in a great stone
hearth not big enough to roast
an ox, but big enough.
It’s taken the universe fifteen
billion years to get me here
and I find I’m grateful.
~ Nils Peterson, “Christmas Eve By the Sea” in A Walk to the Center of Things
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It is, after all, not necessary to fly right into the middle of the sun,
but it is necessary to crawl to a clean little spot on earth where the sun sometimes shines
and one can warm oneself a little.
~ Franz Kafka, from Letter to His Father
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“Michael H. Davies took this photo on the tundra outside Pangnirtung, Nunavut, a community of about 1,400 just a few kilometres south of the Arctic circle. The photo shows local resident Markus Siivola throwing hot tea into the air as he bends backwards. In the –40 C weather, the tea freezes as soon as it’s tossed. Davies, originally from Pontypool, Ont., is a trained painter, photographer and glass blower. He has lived in Pangnirtung for about 10 years with his wife and, now, two young children.”
Source: CBC News – Nunavut tea toss photo at – 40 C proves internet gold
Whirring notes of a varied thrush soak in through the walls of sleep. Gradually ascending toward consciousness, I struggle to remember where we are, then realize what shore these songs ring out across. As the sky pales toward sunrise, I awaken to a world of dreams.
More varied thrushes join the first, until the woods and thickets chime like a chorus of bells. Other birds blend into the medley: fox sparrow, robin, hermit thrush, winter wren, ruby-crowned kinglet, Townsend’s warbler. Their sounds are trapped and magnified in the forest, made rich and deep in the saturated air – ribbons and lacework of song, shadows and flickers of song, splinters and shards of song, and the whispered secrets of unfamiliar song.
The cove fills up with bird voices, until even the noise of surf fades to irrelevance. And what of the songs beyond this patch of shore? If we hiked down the beach or back through the woods, we would hear the same chorus, repeated endlessly, permeating the air with sweet, mingled phrases. I wonder how many thousands of birds are singing at this moment on the island alone? How many millions along the north Pacific shore? And how many billions in the curved shadow of dawn that lies along the continent’s western flank? Throughout this vast expanse the land breathes with song and pours an anthem of morning into the sky. In the flow of a summer sunrise, the living continent sings.
~ Richard Nelson, The Island Within
Inspired by Albert Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
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Road Trip! When does the bus leave?
Music: Just Breathe by Télépopmusik. Just breathe. another day. Another day, just believe.
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