%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  I've maxed out. Closed this blog. |
|
This is a way of making myself write something coherent and grammatically correct almost every day. I'm opinionated and need an outlet. I'm also prone to flights of fancy. Thanks for stopping by. |
| I don't know if temple is exactly where I'm heading with these thoughts. We can always say that nature gives us pause to contemplate creation, life, and existence. It allows us to contemplate on the Creator and how it all came to be. But that's not really what I'm dwelling on. As I walked in the park today, it was very windy and cold. The sky was ominous, and I feared it would rain before I got back to my car. I decided that would be okay, because I wasn't going anywhere but home, and wet, wavy hair wouldn't matter. I had contemplative music on my I-Pod, but as the wind beat my hair about my head, I was reminded of other moments in nature. For instance, when I'm wading in the waters off the Atlantic shore and feeling the sand pelting my ankles, and the salt water spraying against me, I feel some connection to the ships that have come in to the shore or set out to sea over the centuries past. Pictures of women waiting for their men to come home with fish or cargo or passengers come to mind. Somehow their stories, their hardships, their joys still remain in the waves and the wind and cry out in a haunting, hollow way. There are times when I look into the night skies and see the stars, I think of others gazing on the same skies. These are the same skies that guided Columbus and Marco Polo, the stars that guided the Magi to Bethlehem. Our soldiers looked on these skies, these very stars in every war, and gaze on them now in other parts of the world. They tie us together, these stars, these comets, this moon, through distance and time. We are all human with similar thoughts and feelings, the same longings, fears, and hopes. Fashions and things, even languages, have evolved, but mankind is the same, with the same heart and ego and needs. I saw children in the park trying to fly kites, none too successfully. I thought of Ben Franklin, and how others in his day must have flown kites without keys. Suddenly, history wasn't linear any more. Playfulness and joy were as alive back then as they are now. The same winds that blow around the earth and toss the kites and the clouds keep blowing. We aren't so cool, so advanced. We are much the same. We cannot escape being human. And the world keeps turning without our help. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
