There is something enchanting about walking near water and I've realized that I'm happiest near the sea or a mountain stream.... or at any waters edge, for that matter. My husband loves to tell the story (and it's becoming a bit tiresome) about how whenever I'm walking in the mountains and hear a stream burbling nearby I disappear into the bracken in search of it and he knows he will find me kneeling at the waters edge to taste the water.
AT BLACKWATER POND by Mary Oliver
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have
settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?
While searching for an image to go with Mary Oliver's poem I stumbled across Maureen Shaughnessy's blog. Maureen is an artist/photographer/poet who illustrated Mary's poem, In Blackwater Woods with the artwork (above). I think Maureens's images are perfect for Mary Oliver's poetry. Read her blog post here.
"In our spiritual tradition, we give away whatever is holding us back -- whatever is troubling us -- by sitting beside running water and letting the negative feelings, thoughts, or obstacles go. We imagine the obstacles flowing away with the current, like a leaf or a twig". Maureen Shaughnessy
I love this idea. Go here to read more.
"Here is the fringey edge where elements meet and realms mingle, where time and eternity spatter each other with foam. The salt sea and the islands, molding and molding, row upon rolling row, don't quit, nor do winds end nor skies cease from spreading in curves". - Annie Dillard from Holy The Firm
