Wilderness of the Mind

You know you have one up there, too. I have a dear friend who wrote her Master's thesis on all the meanings of wilderness, which included the wilderness inside of us and outside. And I know that my forte is writing about the natural world that surrounds me. Something there is in nature that pulls at me with me with all it's force; and produces the most passionate writings I can give you.

But, while I could fill my blog with passages of the changes of the seasons, there must be time for the wilderness of the mind. Simply, my thoughts intrude. So hang in there, when I grow retrospective; it is all part and parcel, like meat loves salt.*

And if my worldview collides with yours, that's ok with me. It may not be ok with you, however. But I am writing this blog, as an expression of myself, and so all that I write is simply my own opinion. I do love my readers, and have met some very fascinating, deep people through my blog. I am eternally thankful to meet others who care as I do.

Meanwhile, the dog, whom I found out is NOT a Corgi mix, but a Red Tick mix, is snoring deeply and sleeping soundly. I won't treat him any differently after finding he is a Red Tick mix. He will get the same food, and receive the same amount of love. He finally had to "go" so badly last night, that he consented to be led out into the rains, and tied to his traveling line. He got so excited about that, that when he came back in, he proceeded firmly to my bed, as fast as he could, artfully bypassing the towel I had waiting.

Georgia plays this morning, but the two boys are settled in for the duration of the rain. As am I.

It is not a pounding rain we are having in this small corner of the world, nor a driving rain. But some soft, spring rains that we need so badly. My grief at the rapid climate change is punctuated by the drought that has it's hold on us. Where is the cold? The rain? The ice? Where is the winter?

And the Doomsday Clock stands firmly at 5 minutes to midnight, as international organizations urge the U.S. to join the fight for the preservation of our climate; the health of this small earth.

For me? Spring starts in February. When I was very ill, and walked everyday for the medicine of it, I was so surprised at how brightly the light showed, and how late it lingered in February. There is nothing like the sunlight on Tinker Creek...

Good morning...

*Grandfather Tales