"Openings" -- Photo Memoir in three parts, June 2012

I have been distracted these days with holiday gatherings and preparations.  Even with my best intentions today, I find it is 4 p.m. and I still haven't pulled together any of the pieces I'd like to write for this blog.  Seeing that I haven't posted here in two weeks, I thought I'd go to the past for some inspiration.  Here is a short memoir from my vacation to Ohio in 2012.  It was intended to be an ongoing piece, but ended after three entries.  Maybe someday I will return.

Openings

Openings

1. Parting Trees

Yesterday I went to the Metroparks.  I walked along the lagoon – a place from my childhood.  Back then there was a trail that skirted the edge of the lagoon with dense woods on the other side.  Now much of the woods have turned into a bog, presumably because they removed non-native trees.  I heard a multitude of frogs jumping – that rubber band snapping sound – and saw a gorgeous Northern Oriole that glimmered neon orange in the tree branches, only to flick quickly away before I could photograph him.

I followed the path to the horse trail, and attempted to take it up a rather steep hill – another favorite childhood place.  I quickly realized I am not in shape for that kind of activity, my heart pounding too fast for comfort, especially since I was alone. (Oh, the new awareness aging brings us!)

Meditating on the trees.

Hermit's Cave.  Not so scary now!

I went down to the river’s edge by the ford, then I walked over to Maple Grove Picnic Area.  I expected to be able to see the Hermit’s Cave from the edge of the picnic area – in my memory, it was just across the river.  The Hermit’s Cave was a place that we were taken during day camp in the Metroparks, back in the 1960’s.  We would walk along the edge of the river, and eventually reach this “cave” – which turns out to just be a leftover culvert that ran under a road. Anyway, our camp group would always make a trip there and it went like this: the girls would venture together into the cave, someone would scream, and we’d all run out.  In retrospect, it is rather funny --and maybe rather creepy -- that they would tell us that some man lived in the cave, and then take a bunch of little girls there. Yeah. Creepy.

I had hoped to get a picture of the cave for my high school friend, Maureen. 

Maureen and I reminiscing at the reunion

I had seen her the day before at our informal 39-year reunion, and we had talked about CYO Day Camp, and the things we did there.  So I was a bit disappointed when I didn’t see the cave, and was not sure how to find it.

I knew that perhaps it was upriver from where I was, but I didn’t see a way to get down to the river – there was a rather high tree line in the picnic area.  So instead I sat on a picnic table, drank some water, looking around the area to see if I could find a way out. I looked up at the trees and the sky, and decided to close my eyes for a short meditation.  When I opened my eyes just a few minutes later, I first looked up again at the trees – they seemed so green! Then I looked straight ahead and saw it – a wide opening in the woods.  It was as if the trees had suddenly parted, showing me the way. Clearly there was a trail there, and immediately I knew it would take me where I wanted to go.

Sure enough, within minutes, I had cleared the woods and was back down on the shale landing of the Rocky River, directly across from the Hermit’s Cave.  I took some pictures, and sat on a rock listening to the water burble around me, becoming very aware of the word “opening.”  After all, I had been sitting and looking directly across to where the opening was in the trees, yet I didn’t see it until I had taken a few minutes and quieted my mind.

Key point.

2. A Blade of Grass

Becky has asked me to water her grass. There are high spots and the lawnmower cut the grass too low, which burned it out. So over the last two days I have spent swabs of time watering – a meditative activity to be sure.

I have observed that certain brown strips of grass start showing a streak of green, as the water and sun activates the chlorophyll. It struck me that the roots of the grass provide an opening for the capacity of the blade of grass to heal itself, to find new life and thrive. I thought of how we each have that capacity and with the grace of those we love – who act like water and sun – we, too, can heal, find new life, and thrive.

It goes, too, to Van Gogh – how he was inspired by Japanese artists whom “meditated on a blade of grass.”  This activity inspired Vincent – helped him find an opening to new landscapes and nature forms. A blade of grass is considered such a tiny, insignificant thing.  Yet, it too holds the universe. I see the community of “insignificant” green blades of grass gathering in support of the brown, burned out grasses. They are closing in together, spreading the wealth and being a community.

Nothing insignificant about that.

Openings

3.  Green: Gift from Image Angel

Reassurance with green

grasses thriving spritely

A pebble dropped

splashes up like tiny minnows arching

and rings of wobbly water

sending forth

As I look beyond where the

pebble has fallen I see

placid calm, and life support

yet, aren’t we always where

the pebble is tossed

our lives a continual changing

motion

Our growth assured anyway?

Trees reflected in the river.