Every other summer or so, I spend some time at Ring Lake Ranch, a wilderness retreat in Wyoming. That means I’m not at the cottage, but I’m in another little house — a cabin in the mountains.
The neighbors check out the newcomers.
Even here, however, you need to take care during rush hour.
Some mountain critters aren’t very big. Some are very small.
I have missed the guardian spirit
of Sangre de Cristos,
those mountains
against which I destroyed myself
every morning I was sick
with loving and fighting
in those small years.
In that season I looked up
to a blue conception of faith
a notion of the sacred in
the elegant border of cedar trees
becoming mountain and sky.
This is how we were born into the world:
Sky fell in love with earth, wore turquoise,
cantered in on a black horse.
Earth dressed herself fragrantly,
with regard for aesthetics of holy romance.
Their love decorated the mountains with sunrise,
weaved valleys delicate with the edging of sunset.
— Joy Harjo, from “Morning Prayers”
TODAY IS THE LAST DAY FOR THE SUMMER SECRET GARDEN SALE AT THE COTTAGE.
Click on the button below for information.
This offer is only available to new yearly subscribers.
Wilderness problem: It is tough to close your eyes while meditating in the little chapel.
Thank goodness — walking the labyrinth means eyes wide open!
I’m going fly fishing for the first time in the next day or so in this creek. I’ll let you know how it goes!
A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.
— John Muir
The voice of my beloved!
Look, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills.
— Song of Solomon 2:8
Diana I can tell you are relaxed, so you are open. to the spirit. I appreciate your words from WY.
Teri what a special time, and to do this for your daughter was special