the River Taw and dawn. . . with an open mind.
This was my second advised visit to the park at dawn.
Nothing particular happened. . . or did it?
These are my thoughts on my visit. You can make all the plans you like, but fate will decide if they are to work out. Be ready, always ready, for opportunities are fleeting. I could have posted a wonderful photo of a bird on a sign post by the river. . . but the bird only waited long enough for me to find the camera and take it out of its case. . then it flew away! Instaed of staying in bed and making excuses why it would be hard work to go out, raining, headlight bulb gone, not sure wher the boots are etc, just get up and go. . . when you arrive you'll discover its easy, even in the rain. Those that have to live entirely on their wits and own efforts were already there. . the Cormorant was there fishing and the ducks gathered around an outfall from the town drains. . . not sure they'd be eating there if they knew what we did. Still, they didn't and they foraged with joy in their hearts.
Sometimes misfortune can lead us on a path to enlightenment. . . rain caused me to return to my car by a different and more sheltered route. I learned of new and interesting pathways here and saw a dog being put back into an expensive blue tinted windowed Mercedes. I don't suppose the dog saw life any different from the other dogs that walked to the park, only we judge such things.
I wondered at the power of trees that expand cell by cell and push up the pavement with apparent ease. So powerful growing all the while. Then I wondered at what kills them. Do they run out of life force at some time, are they given a limited portion of this elixir. Some use it quickly some take their time, witnes the huge buttresses of a London Plane tree in the park. He'll be ther for another hundred years or more . . . if we leave him alone that is.
Lastly my gratitude for the money in my pocket that allowed me entry to a hotel to buy a breakfast.
A man called Thomas Carlyle once said, " he who has sixpence is sovereign. He can call cooks to cook for him and soldiers to guard him . . . all to the tune of sixpence". Wise man.
Nothing particular happened. . . or did it?
These are my thoughts on my visit. You can make all the plans you like, but fate will decide if they are to work out. Be ready, always ready, for opportunities are fleeting. I could have posted a wonderful photo of a bird on a sign post by the river. . . but the bird only waited long enough for me to find the camera and take it out of its case. . then it flew away! Instaed of staying in bed and making excuses why it would be hard work to go out, raining, headlight bulb gone, not sure wher the boots are etc, just get up and go. . . when you arrive you'll discover its easy, even in the rain. Those that have to live entirely on their wits and own efforts were already there. . the Cormorant was there fishing and the ducks gathered around an outfall from the town drains. . . not sure they'd be eating there if they knew what we did. Still, they didn't and they foraged with joy in their hearts.
Sometimes misfortune can lead us on a path to enlightenment. . . rain caused me to return to my car by a different and more sheltered route. I learned of new and interesting pathways here and saw a dog being put back into an expensive blue tinted windowed Mercedes. I don't suppose the dog saw life any different from the other dogs that walked to the park, only we judge such things.
I wondered at the power of trees that expand cell by cell and push up the pavement with apparent ease. So powerful growing all the while. Then I wondered at what kills them. Do they run out of life force at some time, are they given a limited portion of this elixir. Some use it quickly some take their time, witnes the huge buttresses of a London Plane tree in the park. He'll be ther for another hundred years or more . . . if we leave him alone that is.
Lastly my gratitude for the money in my pocket that allowed me entry to a hotel to buy a breakfast.
A man called Thomas Carlyle once said, " he who has sixpence is sovereign. He can call cooks to cook for him and soldiers to guard him . . . all to the tune of sixpence". Wise man.
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