Tag: wildflowers
Sisterhood of Lady Slippers in the Cathedral of Light

Sisterhood of Lady Slippers in the Cathedral of Light

By |

Do I kneel in the mud and allow tears of joy to merge with raindrops on the tender petals of the lady slipper? 

Do I sing hymns of praise for wildflowers?

The thought arises to place my hands in the cool mud and paint my face in solidarity with Earth and all growing things.

Maybe I should photograph her ladyship, to show the voluptuous curves of her pink belly.

Perhaps I can create a song to sing to my granddaughter to tell of all the flowers in the woodland.

How do I endure beauty so overwhelming? I feel I’m about to erupt from my skin, like an explosion of light from a star? 

Sing? 

Weep?

Shout with joy?

Dance…no, no dancing because I am surrounded by tender beauties that must be protected so I must be still.

It is difficult to know what to do in the presence of profound beauty. How can I take it in? Dare I even attempt it?

How can I receive the beauty, the unexpected beauty, that simply shows up? The surprise of beauty. How do I take that in?

I want to do something to express the awe I feel, when all I really need to do is be there, be present. Be open. Breathe in. 

A couple years ago I had a very clear message from Nature as I was walking in the woods. The message was, When Nature gives me a gift, I have to learn to receive it. My first reaction is often to capture it with photography. It’s harder for us to fully receive the gift of that beauty when we interrupt the receptive moment of awe to ‘do’ something other than be in the present moment breathing. We can simply pause and breathe with the flower or tree, the river or hawk, and let go of words, drop deeper into stillness with the beauty. The frustration can then fade as we open even more fully to receiving.

Breathing in…thank you, I see you, I feel you. Breathing out….this is me, here’s my open heart. This is who I am. This is me. Breathing in, I take in the beauty, the essence of the flower; breathing out, I have the courage to show the flower who I am. This is my heart. This is me. You and I are one. Absolutely, we are one. 

—

An expanse of lady slippers was unveiled due to a blown-down where trees obliterated the trail and a detour was necessary. In wandering around the massive pile of trees and attempting to find our way forward, we discovered a secret wooded area of lady slippers. We would never have seen these precious flowers had we not had to find an alternate path. It felt as if we were invited into a secret initiation of the Sisterhood of Lady Slippers in a Cathedral of Light. And we said….Oh! YES! And THANK YOU!
Counting Days, Not Fish

Counting Days, Not Fish

By |

Today was a special anniversary. Another year has passed since I started fly fishing. I spent 67 days fishing during this time period and each one filled me with profound beauty. Each day deepened my friendship with the creeks, rivers, rocks, trees, trout…and insects. 

The beautiful insects trout feed on have captured my heart. Their life stories are incredible with some staying in a nymph stage underwater over a year before emerging into their final form. A few days as a graceful, winged creature and then they mate and die. Such profound symbolism. 

I had a lovely mayfly hang out on my sweater for a while as I waded upstream today. Yellow sallies were everywhere, their tiny yellow bodies fluttering like fairies. There were so many insects hatching I had to keep my mouth closed, which was difficult as I kept laughing out loud at the multitudes of flying beauties. Many times my dry fly was floating alongside just-hatched mayflies as they dried their wings before launching into flight.

My heaven. Every part of the ecosystem in harmony with each other. Bliss-in-action. And while it’s fun catching and releasing trout, it’s the place they live in that keeps me coming back. Water. Wild, wonderful, clear, cold water.

Today I hiked and waded nearly 5 miles. Two very fat and sassy fish danced with me—a rainbow and a brown trout. The brown surprised and delighted me as this particular creek is typically a rainbow and brook trout stream…or  maybe the browns just don’t show themselves that much for me.

What a thrill to invest my days in such beautiful places. With an open heart, I say THANK YOU! I don’t care how many fish I catch, but I do care how many days I get to spend in this magical place observing the seasons and cycles of Nature as an active part of it.
Flowers & Ice

Flowers & Ice

By |

After a very warm, ‘early Spring’, we slid back into Winter. But somebody forgot to tell the trilliums and violets and other tender flowers that continue to unfold their magic in the mountains. 

It warmed up to the low 50’s, after several 20 degree nights. Sunny skies, on the first day of Spring, lured me out with my Nikon and macro lens. How could I not?

The trail gained elevation along the creek and as I walked, I breathed in cool air and listened to the water in which I’m usually wading. Sunlight dappled the ground and melted icy places left after the cold night.

I thought it was rather optimistic to haul the heavy camera and lens in a quest for wildflowers; but, their tender petals were fresh and vibrant. What resilience. What a surprise to find them peeking out, unfurling their wild beauty.

Warm days in late winter always bring anxiety to me for the blueberries, trilliums, and so many tender flowers because cold always returns, and sometimes with fierceness. Last year my blueberry bushes were in full bloom and we had a low of 9 degrees in late March. I grieved for the berries I wouldn’t get to graze on during warm mornings in the garden. But many berries emerged out of that freeze and they were sweet and juicy, made more so by the miracle of their survival.

It was with a joyful heart that I walked along the trail finding flowers braving the cold to blossom and thrive. They made me ponder: Perhaps things happening in our lives have little to do with what we plan and more to do with surrendering to the flow and unfurling our wild beauty when it feels right, not when conditions are perfect (whatever perfect is).
What is Your Beauty?

What is Your Beauty?

By |

White trilliums covered the side of the trail and the slope of the mountain. Wild phlox, their purple-blue blossoms bursting with color, mixed with the trilliums and created a mosaic of color. Occasionally white and purple butterflies lifted off flowers, appearing to be trilliums and phlox taking flight. 

Pink petals, the later stage of white trilliums, golden ragwort, yellow trout lilies, yellow and purple violets, liverworts, bloodroots, heartleaf foamflowers, mountain bellworts, dutchman’s breeches, louseworts, seersucker sedges, blue asters, thyme leaf bluets, twoleaf miterworts, Miami mists, showy orchis, dwarf crested iris…too many to name, much less count….covered areas of the remote trail and surrounding open woodland. 

At one point, I stopped and spoke to a flower: Your beauty is amazing! I stood admiring her and heard a question in return: What is your beauty? I thought just a moment and replied: My beauty is sharing your beauty.

I pondered the answer I felt and walked with it as a mantra, repeating and allowing clarity to come.

As I allow ‘doors’ within me to open, I become a clearer channel for love, for light…for beauty to move through me and out into the world. For a long time, I thought the doors had to open in the outer world for me to walk through; however, the flower taught me that it is the inner door that must open to allow in more light, more beauty. Then…the outer doors open.

My beauty is sharing your beauty–lovely flower, clear-water creek, moss-covered rock, wild elk, magnificent mountain, humpback whale…. The more I can open myself to allow your beauty to fill me, the more I can share with the world. 

Learning about Oneness from a flower….I highly recommend it.
Keeping it Simple

Keeping it Simple

By |

Less is more.

My birthday gift to myself was minimizing the gear I wear and take while fly fishing. As the weather shifts to warmer days and my hikes increase in length to find solitude, I needed to drop weight and cool down. The key? Dropping a piece of gear that carries way too many things.

I like my fly fishing vest, advertised as having 30 pockets. Awesome!! (I don’t think I’m exaggerating). The problem is: it contains 30 pockets. And it’s quite warm. The obvious solution was to wear a waist pack. But before the vest, there was a sling and then a large waist pack. The sling remains as a colorful, fun outdoor pack but I didn’t like casting in it and the waist pack was too heavy and kept falling down unless I used the shoulder strap and then it was no different than the sling so it was returned. The vest was the perfect solution.

During colder months, when the extra insulation is appreciated and I’m not having to walk as far to find solitude, the vest is great. But these days, I’m hiking six miles or more with 70 degrees (and climbing) temperatures so a small pack seemed like a good idea.

While the idea of a smaller kit for my gadgets and tippet and fly box seemed great, what about the net? I visited my favorite fly shop in Townsend, Tennessee, and had some awesome assistance in figuring out the net. A simple holster was the answer. A smaller fly box was the only other essential I needed.

As I begin to unload the vest and store things like the small emergency blanket pack, the drying towel, the heavy fly box, I laughed at how much ‘stuff’ I was carrying on my fly fishing hikes. No wonder it felt heavy.

Figuring out how minimal I could go was actually quite fun. Lightening the load felt like a puzzle I was solving. How much can I leave behind? How much do I really need? Such important questions….not just for fly fishing.

Six and a half miles yesterday hiking and wading was the maiden voyage of the small waist pack. The overall feeling? Freedom. Nothing weighing me down, cooler as the temperatures climbed to 72 degrees. I felt lighter with more room to move and cast and bend over to photograph wildflowers that were blooming everywhere.

So often fly fishing (or wading-with-a-10-foot-stick, as I call it) mirrors life so perfectly. Letting go of things I don’t need is good, but letting go of thoughts I don’t need is even better. Once in a while it’s helpful to inventory what we are carrying–that we no longer need–whether it’s gear or thoughts or burdens. What keeps us weighed down? What can we do to keep it simple?