Yesterday, I was walking in this adorable little park near my home.  It has both open fields and wooded areas and both have wide, well maintained paths that are relatively flat.  It is a peaceful place to get lost in one's thoughts or to clear one's mind when the thoughts become heavy and burdensome. I wondered if it would be possible to recreate such a park in my own suburban landscape.
This morning, I pulled on my rubber boots and meandered around my yard in an illogical way.  As my yard is not all that large, I didn't know if it could work without too much crossing of pathways or having the path turn into a tidy little figure eight.  There would be no place to play frisbee with the dog, so that is an important consideration.
I find it curious that our urban and suburban landscapes are crafted into such regimented structures.  Nature, where there is a peaceful flow to things doesn't do regimented so it seems.  Everything is in a constant state of birth and death and there is an acceptance of both as normal and natural.  In our manicured landscapes, we don't make space for that at all. The lines between grass and not grass are usually clearly defined unless the yard work has not been done in some time.  It is a place of work, not necessarily renewal.  Rarely is a dead thing allowed to stay and feed the soil where it once grew.  A line is drawn between what is allowed and what must be removed, killed if necessary.  Plants often must be shaped to work around hardscapes like driveways and sidewalks and houses even.  In places where the landscape has not been maintained, it does not appear to return to the natural way of things, but becomes rough and ragged, not a place of peace, but a sign of grief and despair.  Even if I decided to grow a small forest in my yard, it would have to be planned and maintained to some degree because the soil has been altered from its original state.  Perhaps the wild landscapes have been lost forever in our urban environments.  I hope not, but for now I will go meander in my neighborhood park and dream of a different time and place.

Reflections of self

It is early, though not as early as yesterday.  The sun has yet to make an appearance.  But as it is now Autumn, mornings of darkness will be the truth of things for some time to come.
  I did something a bit different this morning.  I liked how it felt, so I may try to make a habit of it.  My morning routine looked very much like any other morning, I made coffee, fed the animals, sat down to read what was new on Facebook, took a closer look at a news story about a shooting nearby and pondered why someone could post an offensive, hate filled message and also post about God being the savior of mankind.  Delete is easier than trying to make sense of it.  About this time each morning, my dog begins to behave badly.  She leaps from couch to couch, steals items she thinks are of value to me in order to go outside with her.  It is an effective tactic.  She is afraid of the dark, so her goal to get me outside worked well for me, but not so much for her.
  I took my coffee cup, pulled on my rain boots as there is no way to see what awaits me in the grass and headed out of doors.  Then I walked.  I thought it might entice her to join me.  It almost did, but mostly she just watched me from the comfort of the family room.  I walked around the perimeter of my back yard again and again.  I wished for a bigger yard, a woods to wander in in my night clothes and rain boots.  But this is what I have and it suited my needs adequately.
  My yard reflects me.  Part is clean and presentable.  Part is a mess.  Both are visible to anyone who cares to look.  I have ambition tempered by laziness.  Yes, I am busy, but I truly am lazy too. I have pulled the weeds and overgrown zucchini plants from the garden and left them in the yard to die completely rather than to chuck them into the compost bin.  Started. but rarely finished.  I tire of things, get bored of things and just leave them be.  I admire the tidy, the organized, but that is not the truth of who I am.
  As I walked, I did not judge the intermingling of the orderly with the chaotic, I just observed it.  I paid attention to how my body moved and seemed to appreciate the gentle contracting and stretching of my muscles after a nights rest.  I felt the warmth of my coffee cup in my hands and I enjoyed how it warmed my throat when I sipped from the cup.  It was a walking meditation around and around my suburban landscape.  I feel peaceful and more ready to face the day.
  The sun is coming up now and I have been presented with a toy.  I am being called to play.

Night Music

I chose the name Night Music for a couple of reasons.  I have a dream of one day owning a coffee shop of this name, but more importantly for this blog, I am troubled with insomnia with some frequency.  When I find myself awake in the wee hours, my mind tends to trip along contemplating the most interesting (at least to me) things.  So I have chosen this blog to record those musings.
  I came across a blog some time ago called Shower Thoughts if I am not mistaken and I laughed out loud.  I have those too.  The most profound insights can come at those times.  I sing, I invent, I ponder, only to return to the mundane once the water is shut off.  I wonder why the mind is open to such marvels at times only to cram itself back into the constraints of skull, or reality, just a few moments later.  Perhaps it is permission given at those moments to wonder like a child.  Perhaps the worries of the day are there ready to be picked up again like burrs on a sock.  In any case, I have chosen this format to record my thoughts, be they creative or political or personal.  I intend to post photos of that which moves me, though I hope to write most of all because writing frees to me ponder the possibilities and brings me peace.