A practice in paying attention.

Autumn is here again and I am using nature, again. As soothing balms for skin eyes and mind. I watch leaves clapping together move my body in rhythm. Discotheques everywhere. River rages behind with birds above producing a natural surround sound experience. Unwashed I am happy counting ripples in the water there must be millions in this river, the Goyt. I sometimes notice an arrogance in seeming-knowing. When something is to be enjoyed and something else documented for pleasure of sending to a sister in a far away land or using it to convey experiences of being with water and other natural friends at a later date. Nature has become my work lately and occasionally I worry it’s no longer home. When this happens I say no on weekdays, never not recognising my privilege, to spent minutes sometimes hours with it. Allowing it to run over me while I watch and listen. Sometimes wondering if I am paying enough attention before falling asleep beside trees or dipping my feet into soggy earth we’ve named dirt. I am finding the more I record on devices, the more I am imagining an experience of sitting on a bench listening to my environment being presented through speakers. There is a lesson here (somewhere) in longevity and trust. To record some things, to write about them, and to set a date months from now playing them back if I choose. The immediacy of everything needs to be addressed. The immediacy of everything but peace, that is.