FootprintsintheWind.com

One even one must shh to open one’s ears—for what sings low as though through some long hollow didgeridoo of night—but here it is morning, no fog—this lonesome tree frog is sucking in from the air—a solitary mesmerizing woo-woo-woo.

:- Doug.

To wrestle-dance
to squeeze out
some art
perchance to invent
an image
—mistakenly in that
folks will find or create
intention, significance, guidance—
but meaning is off-true
for the choreography
of the living
moment
is the thing

:- Doug.

It webs and flows
this conversation stuff
and we along with

:- Doug.

What do you love? What brings you joy? Start your conversation here.

:- Doug.

Footprints in the Wind^sm # 2228

Lovely day today. Comfortable, right at about 75. I have had the windows open in the office, an annual rite of spring. Rite in van Gennep: a changing of rooms (bringing the outdoors in); a going from secular to sacred (the breezes! O!); separation (opening the windows); liminality (springtime); incorporation (breathing in the breezes). Could this little ritual be image to invite me to live fully?

Please pass it on.

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What responsibility do we have to one another? In this conversation?

:- Doug.