Very beautifully expressed! It reminds me of a conversation that I keep having with people about how our connection with earth has got buried in our subconscious.
Thanks. Yes, and buried by the barrage of the artificial, in the coarseness of our public discourse, and under the usual modern plagues of humanity. Let's hope that connection to earth can still be pried from the subconscious and into the light.
Spring is when we learn to smell again. And to strain our old ears to hear high birdsong. And to look at every single thing. Ahhh, spring.
Every single thing ... thanks, Micki!
“season of mud giving” ☺️
After what seemed to be a particularly cold winter in the Upper Midwest, may you as well be given mud!
Judging by my walk home yesterday afternoon, well on our way!
If not a poem, your piece was quite poetic, and it sang to me, it stirred me. I felt it. Is feeling a sense? or is only touching a sense?
Whatever, thank you, Bryan.
This is so very kind of you, Sarah. Thanks so much. Yes, I suspect feeling is very much a sense -- or at the very least an amalgam of our senses.
Bryan, what an exquisite description of mud season! THANK YOU THANK YOU.
Susan
You are so welcome, Susan. Thanks for reading.
Very nice.
2 out of 3 -- I'll take it (against your world champs). :-)
Very beautifully expressed! It reminds me of a conversation that I keep having with people about how our connection with earth has got buried in our subconscious.
Thanks. Yes, and buried by the barrage of the artificial, in the coarseness of our public discourse, and under the usual modern plagues of humanity. Let's hope that connection to earth can still be pried from the subconscious and into the light.