I stroll through the gardens
down the path
under solid blue sky
to a new area of the park
I have not visited before.
Wildlife abundant
Water so clear that a moorhen sitting on it
looked to be attached to her own reflection.
Dancing dragonflies
A frog announcing his presence
An anhinga angry that I dare disturb the peace
with my ASICS crunching on the crushed shell path.
When I reach the end, a prayer of gratitude.
white ibis
red-winged blackbirds
great blue heron
a red-shouldered hawk perched high in a pine tree
pointed out to me by an elderly biker
a woman from new york asking me if there are alligators in the water
terrified when I say, yes
it's florida.
we have gators
just don't feed them
a young little blue heron, still all white, pokes around the tall grass
a yellow rat snake crosses the path
provoking a series of "OH MY GOD"s from tourists
a woodpecker taps away in the distance
two turtles poke their heads up by the side of the pond
two grackles chase a red-tailed hawk from their nest
buzzards dot the top of a long dead tree
a pair of mottled ducks paddle slowly together across the lake.
III. Meditation
I pull up a limestone rock next to a couple of blue flag iris
They are fresh and deep purple and at the peak of perfection
Twenty minutes I meditate on the world around me
Twenty minutes, undisturbed.
A spider web in a scrubby shrub.
A lizard skirting the edge.
A blackbird nearly grazes my ear.
A Great Blue Heron majestically calls.
The solid blue sky has white puffs in it now.
I walk on.
IV. Tonks!
I see him and I think, wow, that looks like Will.
I decide not to approach.
But then I see a woman that looks like his wife,
so I approach the man...Are you Will Tonks?
Yes, it is. Moved back from New Jersey and working
as a reading coach at Dunbar Middle School.
So good to see him.
Many memories of working in adjoining rooms
teaching 6th grade at Gateway Charter, ten years ago now
We compare notes, what we've taught, what's happening now.
Then time to move on. We'll meet again.
It is very humid and I've been walking nearly two hours.
Later, Will.
V. Alone/Not Alone
Recently someone I know posted a quote from Hunter Thompson on the Facebook feed. It was about being born alone and dying alone -- that essentially, we are alone always.
Yet, meditating and walking today I didn't feel alone.
Even though I was alone.
The paradox we live.
Wenzi said, "The path of water is such that when it rises to the sky, it becomes raindrops; when it falls to the ground, it becomes rivers."
What is our sky? Our raindrop? Our ground? Our river?
How can we ever truly be alone?
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