Indian Point.

morning at Indian Point Lake. i notice bunchberry (Cornus canadensis), tiny clusters of perfect bright red berries, described in the Edible Wild Plants pocket book as "insipid"... which, though insipid describes the flavour, i find this a bit harsh. i would prefer delicate. they are a plain gift, enticingly beautiful. and the six, star like leaves conjure images of a the tiny world of fairies, tending the forest.

the day started off perfectly - apple cinnamon pancakes and french press coffee.

the water never stops dancing. to and fro, effortlessly flowing with the coming winds and currents, pure being. no preconception or expectation. as i sat, water droplets fell from sky and i noticed how some made tiny ripples and some much larger. so, too, do people. but in the end we are each just a single droplet. our greatest challenge is to fall with grace, to be fully present to the falling, so that our ripple can radiate with fullest potential.

sunset from mid-lake. 

loon calls. haunting, echoes across the lake and beyond, reminding us of our past, our roots. roots of land, or lake, of stillness. intuition and respect. 

i dreamt of moving with grace, like this gentle moose. she tip toed ever so carefully through the reeds, selecting the finest grasses to nourish her massive, muscular body. 

i admired a lichen this morning. tall fruiting bodies dwarfed by my large foot. getting down on knees i could imagine the lichen stretching up and above the mossy earth. bunchberries and creeping groundcover also tower over them, but the lichen just carries on growing, ever so slowly. breaking down parent material - rock into mineral into soil - they are performing primary ecological function!

good morning sunshine.