May 27, 2008 at 12:18 am (nature, play)
Tags: dancing, dawn, fairy rings
Standing on top of a hill, a cold wind blowing in our faces.
Standing in the pale dawn light while we wait patiently for the sun to rise.
Standing in the centre of a ‘fairy’ ring of mushrooms.
Standing with a friend who had never before stood and watched the sun rise.
Standing with my dog, who thought the humans so strange.
There is much to commend those
Who break a habit of a lifetime
And rise to the challenge
To experience
A moment
Fully.
There is something very special
To witness another in that moment
And to feel their wonder as they experience
That which has held humans in wonder over eons.
There is something very special
To witness an event that happens every day
Yet happens only once.
The sun has risen.
It’s light casts long shadows
And we play with the shadows,
Dancing in the fairy ring of mushrooms
On top of a hill, with a cold wind blowing.
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March 6, 2008 at 7:25 am (nature, philosophy, play)
Tags: cats, children, gardens, playing, sweet corn
This week in the garden, I have been blessed with my first sweetcorn of the season. Sweet, juicy and succulent. Corn fresh from the garden has a taste far removed from the lifeless forms found on supermarket shelves. I am continuing a family tradition by growing sweet corn, as each spring my father would plant corn in the home garden. As a child I would hide and play amongst the tall plants, and let my imagination run riot. The family dog and I would have deep conversations, safe from interruptions in our “forest”. Ah, the sweet simple pleasures of childhood. I feel so blessed to have grown up with such experiences, especially when I see children today living in town-houses, with no patch of dirt let alone their own “forest ” to play in. Or living in carefully manicured so-called “gardens” where there is no chance for the imagination to escape from the confines of a conditioned mind.
This morning while I was tending the garden, I saw my young cat, a “teenager” in our terms, gazing up at the gum tree nearby. I checked to see if there was something unusual in the tree, but no, it seemed not. Mickey proceeded to climb the tree, more like a possum than a cat, so agile is he, until he’d reached a goodly height. Then he turned around and came back down again. The considered manner he displayed had my full attention. It appeared that he climbed the tree, just because it was there, and he could. No reason, simply playing.
Mickey also loves to play in the corn patch, and it reminds me to create places of play, as this new garden of mine unfolds. Places where children of all ages can let their imaginations run freely, where they can create their heart’s desire. Playfully.
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