Maybe they will bloom once more

Of course it had to be raining when they told me. It’s called pathetic fallacy.

I felt like I wanted to cry or wretch or go to sleep for a long time.

I suppose I could sit around and be angry for a while, but, at this point, I’ve resolved just to move on.┬áThis is much more of a quiet kind of feeling.

I have to be okay with things just being how they are.

But it was never a matter of being over her or having enough time, was it? It was always just a matter of me and you that would never exist.

I always talk about how seasons change and how that’s the way it is supposed to be, but I never thought it would be so drastic.

Image via Pinterest.com

Summer is almost here, but, though it may be peaceful, it will still be hot, so I’ll have to stay busy. And while I’d love to have citrus all year, I know that pixie season has come and gone.

Maybe next year, after the rains come and when the sun starts shining again, they will bloom once more and I will be okay.

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A reflection on past reflections

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

If anyone was wondering, I made the sun come up faster.

I’m not sure how or why or exactly when it happened, I just know that a few weeks ago I was running in the dark at 6am and now I am running in the light at 6am.

I don’t have the time or energy right now to figure out how to read the stars or alter the path of the sun or anything like that, but if anyone out there has any insight to offer, I would love to hear it.

Looking back on my past thoughts, it’s funny to see how much changes and how much stays the same.

A few months ago, it seems as though I was fascinated by time and weather and all sorts of things. I still am now, of course, but I guess that I just already got it out sort of artistically, so it’s not as much of a pressing issue anymore.

It’s cloudy today and it rained a little bit in the morning. It feels like everything is clean. I still miss the sun, though.

And I think I will always be fascinated by the weather and the sky. I just always will be.

 

“The God who made the world and all things in it”

photo credit: jdboggs.blogspot.com

For quite some time now, I’ve been trying to find God.

It’s not that I feel I’m lacking something without being a member of a religion, I just find it fascinating how people feel so empowered by so many different faiths.

In some ways I’m jealous of those people, the ones who know whole-heartedly that there is some higher power out there to guide them.

I know a lot of people who are skeptical of religion and, in some ways, I am too.

But, I’ve come to the conclusion that good people don’t use the Bible or anything else to justify hate or harm. The people who make excuses in the name of God are hypocrites in the truest sense and are ignorant by thinking that just by adhering to a faith will guarantee a better life or afterlife.

I think there is so much we can learn from religious texts. Even if you don’t interpret them in a spiritual sense, I think that anyone of any faith or background can gain something from the lessons in them.

From my perspective, the main purpose of a religion is to give people a sense of purpose or fulfillment and to help them live the best life possible.

So if this is true, then I’ve found my god.

I find my religion in the wilderness. I find god in the trees and in rivers and mountains and the sunshine.

My god makes up everything that is natural and wild. It teaches me to live the best, most fulfilled, and positive life that I can.

And that’s all I could really ask for.

 

The Other Night

I woke up under the stars the other night. There were so many and, though I couldn’t nearly see all of them, it reminded me of how pretty, plain beautiful our universe is.

I woke up on a slick rock in a canyon in Utah. I woke up a couple times that night, the rock was pretty slanted and not that comfortable, but I didn’t mind. Everything around me was too beautiful to mind being awake.

I woke up and my nose was cold. Aside from that, I was cozy in my sleeping bag, but the breezy fresh air made my face all cold. But, once again, I didn’t mind.

Photo Credit: farm3.staticflickr.com

I always forget how much I love camping. But then, when I go, I fall in love with it entirely. I love hiking for hours and watching the landscape change around you. I love having nothing to worry about other than making a good fire and finding water to filter. I love to not set foot into a building for days and I love waking up at night underneath the stars, being reminded of how pretty our universe is.

Of course camping can be stressful sometimes, like when the blisters on your feet are burning and you know you still have miles left to go or when you’re wearing all the layers you can possibly wear, but you’re still freezing in your sleeping bag. But, again, I don’t really mind those things all too much. The freeze-dried food, the soaked shoes, the farmer’s tan, it was all worth it once again. Because, the other night, I got to wake up underneath the stars in Utah and it was so beautiful.

The painted ladies

On my way home today, I stopped to say hello to the mountains.

Image credit: allposters.com

But while I originally had pulled over to say hello to the mountains, I also got to say hello to the painted ladies – the butterflies.

There are hundreds of thousands of them, all passing through and I’m lucky enough to live along their migration path.

No one knows exactly why they choose to come here, but I’m happy they do.

I heard they are headed west. Maybe they’re chasing the sun.

So, as I sat alone outside my car, I blew kisses to the mountains, to thank them for being so magnificent.

Image credit: travelandleisure.com

I blew kisses to the butterflies as they flew by, to wish them good luck on their journey.

It’s days like these when I know I wouldn’t be able to live in a place where the sun seldom shines.

There wouldn’t be nearly enough mountains that compare to Ojai mountains and there definitely wouldn’t be enough painted ladies.

I hope they all reach their destinations.

And if they really are chasing the sun, I hope they catch it.

my thoughts on time.

I prefer not to measure time in minutes.

Maybe that’s because it scares me,
time does.

But, it’s comforting to think
that the same wet grass I
walked across today
will soon turn brittle and dry.

“The Persistence of Memory” via allthatsinteresting.com

It’s comforting to think
that, with the help of the rain,
the fields will fill up with wheat,
which will later be cut down
and turned into hundreds of bales of hay,
all lining the bottom of the hillsides
in a grid of little golden rectangles.

Then, in time, they will be shipped off
to somewhere far away from here
and the cows will return to eating
the new grass, gently swishing
their tails as they chew.

It’s comforting to think that
the world will continue to spin
and the sun will set tomorrow
and the next day,
just as it is meant to.

And I hope,
that in time,
I will see, and do, and live
just as I am meant to.

Driving in the Rain

I went for a drive tonight.

First, I made a left turn onto the highway at 9:17pm.

It wasn’t raining yet, just a slight drizzle. The roads were just starting to get wet. I forgot how much darker it is when there’s a storm coming.

As I got closer to town, I saw some couples wandering up and down main street, bundled up in coats and jackets, strolling under yellow light and holding hands.

I watched a little boy running along the sidewalk past a restaurant, clutching the straps of his backpack tight against his sides, the pom-pom on top of his beanie bouncing up and down as he went. I wonder where he was going.

By 9:25 the rain had started to come down a bit more. I rolled down the window to feel the cold.

I rolled along to a four way stop. There was no one else waiting. So, I looked up towards the street light.

A dull orange beam perfectly showed the rain coming down, lighting up thousands of little droplets falling from the sky.

I stuck my hand out the window, felt the rain hit me for a moment, then signaled right and moved on.