#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

This morning this planet is covered by winds and blue.

This morning this planet glows with dustless perfect light,

enough that I can see one million sharp leaves

from where I stand. I walk on this planet, its hard-packed

dirt and prickling grass, and I don’t fall off. I come down

soft if I choose, hard if I choose. I never float away. . .

~ Excerpt from “Planet,” by Catherine Pierce

First, it’s very cold. But I will meet my friend at Medfield State. We are wearing our snowshoes. We clomp over the frosted world of meadow and field and trail through woods. She has a tiny terrier who romps through the frozen lace. We meet a walker with his adorable yellow lab puppy. Walking his new dog seems to have drawn him out into spectacular nature. He marvels at the world and so do we. Strangely, he thinks the deer ticks live in the river. I straighten him out. Today, my son, for his birthday celebration, has planned a meditation retreat at our house. We spend three and a half hours in our silent time. By the fire, we meditate together. We move, silently, into lunch, and then back for another meditation. Then, a silent hike through our woods in the snow. All it takes is our intention, and the house becomes a meditation sanctuary. Shared silence is a deep communication. How lovely it is to choose stillness, awareness, and time to reflect and just be in the presence of the mindful practice of each other. A bird has been tattered; feathers scattered on snow. We walk past them. He returns and gathers them, his talisman.