Did you know that woodpeckers whine? I didn't either. This morning I was sitting on my deck soaking in the morning shade and semi-coolness before the heat of the day chased me inside. Close at hand, two woodpeckers whined.
I found one in the chestnut oak to my right. There it was, a Downy on a limb. Whining. Dude was looking right at me until he lost interest. Then he attacked the thick bark with his thorn beak, sending it flying.
The other was in front of me, hiding behind a veil of leaves. Whining. I spied her when she hopped on the trunk and hammered away. From her looks she was a Hairy Woodpecker. Interesting that both subspecies would whine.
The cicadas are chorusing. I had forgotten what it was like to live in the south and and experience their rhythmic song. Last week I started taking the time each day to just sit, close my eyes and let my body feel the the sound of the cicadas singing the earth's rhythm.
Eric, in answer to your question, this is one way I create. I sit still, I watch, I listen. I hear. I feel. I see. When I'm feeling, senses engaged, the voices cease and my head quiets.
I let my mind be quiet. Or wander if it wants to.
Now for some pictures of me be-ing yesterday.
This is me.
Somewhere down that lazy River.
The Chestatee outside of Dahlonega.
Floating on a 'catamarran'.
With an oar.
Spinning stories in my head.
There were five turtles just before I snapped this, but one plopped off in to the water.
It was a leisurely float, no real paddling other than to steer. Several class one rapids of the pre-K variety. Two class two. Maybe first grade. Nothing more strenuous.
Just a lazy be-ing day.
This song was stuck in my head as we floated down the river. I had never seen this video. My my. Would you stand in line for a kiss like this?
And who knew Robbie was such a hunk?