nature7blog

Journey

A child’s mind is imagination without restriction, ever present and fear free, authentically expressing itself to its astral potential. A celestial world is discovered in every particle of life — the stone and the hummingbird sparkle the same. Delight is existence, occupying the same harmonic note on the scales. We strain to recapture the wonder of these mesmerizing moments by means foreign to our nature — but always to no avail. It is the child I left behind and yet, it is the child I aspire to be. For there is no greater freedom, grandeur or goodness than imagination fueled by a child. https://open.spotify.com/track/5VMbc4zgxLGvy6Q0OjyDUv?si=zESEv-OCSHa2VM-Sw3SAwQ

by K. Osei

Just Riding

I remember my mother saying to me as a small child, “let’s go for a ride.” I was never sure exactly why, whenever I asked, “where we were going,” her response was always the same, “we’re just riding.” There was never any particular destination or route but it was always very scenic, away from the city, somewhere green, where nature was unobstructed. I wasn’t sure if she had something on her mind or just wanted to relax, she never said. She didn’t play the radio and words were seldom exchanged. We drove along quietly, taking in all the shapes and colors of nature. For me, It was both tranquil and euphoric. I have no idea how long these trips lasted, time was irrelevant, at least to me—I felt free, immersed in the landscape as we cruised along the country roads. Whatever my thoughts were prior to our journey, they were vanished upon returning home. For the rest of that day I would experience a pleasant calmness. I’ve continued this ritual over the years with my own children when they were young, albeit, it was usually to help them fall asleep so I could study. Nevertheless, this practice has helped me to value the journey of life as much as the destination—thanks mom! I’m still, “just riding.”

by K. Osei

A Blades Width

The two had been working together for nearly 10 years now. The old man spoke to the young apprentice with a firm urgency in his voice, “skim-it!” The young lad, without a moment’s hesitation, hurried to the woodshop with plank in hand. Nervously returning, handed the old master carver the piece of wood, attentively listening, observing every moan and grimace on the old man’s face as he adjusted the board into position — “ahhh, perfect!” Sighed the gray bearded elder. The corners of his mouth gently raised, revealing the faintes smile. “How did you know,” said the old man, “I just measured a blade’s width,” the youth replied. With that the old man reached down, his cracked leathery hands mirroring the worn dark brown tool belt around his waist. Releasing the buckle, he placed it around the youthful waist of the young master – turned and slowly walked away. The young man stood silently, with water glazed eyes he watched his father’s silhouette fade, completely confident in his training and the legacy that hung about his waist.

by K. Osei