December 3 , 2021 /


  • An early morning walk, on a path, through the trees, along a river, winding this way and that, soft steps in sandy soil underfoot, a few yellow leaves starting to fall from the cottonwood trees. Aware of a slight, cool breeze from the south until turning north, occasional warm sun coming through the treetops.  Two miles of bliss, immersed in and part of the natural world.  Quiet, serene, peaceful, restorative.  Being and becoming along the way.


  • Three conversations, each unique from one another telling a story. One is mourning the loss of a son, consumed with grief and sadness for now, and there is not much can be said now that helps.  So, I listen and offer another few moments to hear more as she describes love that endured for 42 years and is now gone from this life.  She wonders how she will heal her broken heart.  She has my name. We move on.


  • A second conversation reveals why here now and not in Canada. I understand by saying it’s why you are called snowbirds, flying south for the winter where it’s warmer. We know the migration for better weather in both winter and summer. She says her husband is hunting quail now with their other English setter.  She says she doesn’t hunt quail but she cooks them. I give her a recipe for game pie that includes doves or pigeon, pheasant and duck and a flaky crust. Two cooks conversing along the way.


  • The third conversation reveals anxiety about “the state of our country” and the future. Fear comes to the top now and is expressed by saying “I do not want to live in an authoritarian country with few choices.”   I share that I hear this same concern from others and have felt it myself.  2024 comes up as a bellwether to decide whether to stay or leave.  I say we may get an indication of which way the wind is blowing with the elections next year.  I can see the worry and unhappiness on the face.  “Five more years and then I can retire.”  I say one year at a time, one day at a time.  Today is another day.


  • “A good conversation can’t be hurried, it needs time in which to meander its way to revelation and insight.” Katrina Kenison


  • Finally this: Sitting in the late afternoon sun, watching it descend over the mountains in the west, a cup of warm chai green tea in hand.  Sipping slowly, I marvel at the 9 different blooms still in the garden this December 3.  I watch a large, white wing dove and a smaller bird in a seed tray hanging from a pyracantha tree loaded with red berries. They seem grateful for the handout and share the space now so both can eat. Back now to the now of earlier in the day, in the presence and immersed in the natural world.  We live where we are.



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