After spreading plastic and pads to ward off the dampness, a flock of robins greet me as I take my seat amidst the wet leaves. They land close by, and…
death
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Few generations in the history of civilization have shown more promise in their youth but been more of a disappointment in their adulthood and aging than my generation, the “Boomers,”…
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Color as thick as the clouds themselves suffuses the massive, multi-layered cumulus. The color appears almost solid, so that the substance of the clouds seems to be color itself. After…
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There’s intermittent sun late in the afternoon with a long view downstream. An hour of passive observation gathers sufficient attention to end all thinking. Without a trace of fear or…
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MeditationsUncategorized
Death Is the Only Thing That Makes Sense of Life
by Martin LeFevre 2020/02/12Toward late afternoon, the light on a high overcast day becomes white and ethereally bright. Through the bare branches and beyond the tall pines, subtle hues of blue and gray…
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The cycles of birth and death in nature fold into the timeless present as I sit on the bank overlooking the stream. When thought completely stops in undirected attention, nature…
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An old woman is standing across the narrow park road as I come down a favorite section of trail. There is something unusual about her, a quality of complete openness…
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Acrid smoke wafts in over the parkland from an unknown fire. Upstream, a dog standing in the water barks loudly for fifteen minutes, goaded by its owner. Despite these things…