Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Silent snowflakes drift
down, blanketing the Sycamore
Christmas lights shimmer.

© Nancilynn Saylor 7 December 2017

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A Longing for Thoreau

I hold fast to my walking

stick as I leave

the beaten path to follow

my own trail

Into only partially familiar woods.

There is a part of me that

hunkers down

Here, within the gloom of autumn

or later, the promise of spring

Tilt back my head

Shake my mane and

Sniff the air.

I crouch beside the creek flowing here, simple and without a care.

A glimpse of a whitetail yearling

Frozen in the tangled underbrush

The soft call the cardinal sings to his mate

The reflection of us all in the stream

In this late November dawn

Nirvana

the coyote

the cardinal

the whitetail

and me…

 

©Nancilynn Saylor

November 2017

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Indra’s net or six degrees of separation

It has been six weeks since my fiftieth high school reunion.
I had the pleasure of staying a day with friends in the small town of Floresville,Texas about 30 miles southeast of San Antonio.

Bonnie and I were buddies our Senior year, eating lunch together almost every day, along with Claudia, another friend. We were, all three from military families, bonding over our newness at a school, where many had known each other most of their lives.
Social media reconnected us several years ago. Facebook it is good in that respect. When Bonnie and Charlie invited me to stay at their home, reunion weekend I enthusiastically accepted.

The Sunday morning after the reunion was a stellar early autumn day. We leisurely drank coffee outside under the trees and after breakfast later, went into the picturesque country town to visit a Nursery. Looking at plants, is always a favorite pastime of mine made even more enjoyable with friends.

The quiet, small town America I visited that day was brought to its knees yesterday, as a gunman murdered over two dozen people in a little Baptist church in the next community over. Two people among those who lost their lives were the people I met at the nursery-kind, pleasant good people.

When I read the message from Bonnie this morning, letting me know this, I was reminded of how fragile life is and how interwoven our lives can be. I recalled a Buddhist parable titled Indra's Web,which I read long ago. It speaks about the interconnectedness of us all.

The universal "we" of mankind made even more clear this morning in the aftermath in a small Texas town.
© Nancilynn Saylor
6 November 2017