evening ride

i was wrong. today is not the day for the noble pursuit ride to be posted.

there simply wasn't enough time to put it together properly.

soon it will be here. for now though.

my evening ride on july 30. 2012.

<<>>

from the very tiny jewel that settled near my bike when i stopped to rest

to the very large jewel that flowed beside me as i rode home

this was an evening ride i treasured 

even as i was riding inside it.

early in the morning

early in the morning my town is a sleepy place that is still waiting quietly for the day to begin and what that looks like and sounds like and feels like is people moving around and cars and trucks and buses and especially bicycles and electric motor scooters whizzing past. it sounds like people talking about sometimes serious and sometimes not at all important to me matters that are everything to those voicing them loudly enough for everyone else to temporarily become a feature of their lives. it looks like boys - always boys - on skateboards making their way up the sidewalk and hoping that the police don't ticket them 'cause they haven't got a cent to their name 'cause it's all in the skateboard, the sweet kicks, and the tender t they're wearing . . . but for now it's super quiet and empty and i'm riding downtown for the big "noble pursuit" race . . . . more about THAT tomorrow . . .

the noble pursuit

today i am riding this between 8:30 a.m. and 4:00 p.m. . . . 150 kms of cycling through the area around peterborough . . . i am one member of a team of six riders . . . it's called a "team pursuit" . . . i think that there are nine other teams . . . . maps are distributed at the last minute and then we are sent out at intervals of fifteen minutes . . . i should burn 5,000 calories - i'm carrying 1200 calories of food with me . . . the intake deficit will be addressed by the compensatory consumption of beer at the end . . . wish me luck!!!!

saturday

a busy and peaceful saturday of visiting the bicycle shop, the pastry shop for an americano and a home made granola bar, a friend's house to teach his little daughter how to plant seeds (!) and of course some biking.

somewhere east

i love to ride with my friends! here i am with andrea and kara 

somewhere east of peterborough on a warm summer night.

thanks to kris seiber for the image

the unexpected

this sky appeared magically and majestically on the forefront of a fifteen minute rainstorm.

what i was born for

mindful

every day

i see or hear

something

that more or less

kills me

with delight,

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

it was what I was born for--

to look, to listen,

to lose myself

inside this soft world--

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation.

nor am i talking

about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,

the very extravagant--

but of the ordinary,

the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.

oh, good scholar,

i say to myself,

how can you help

but grow wise

with such teachings

as these--

the untrimmable light

of the world,

the ocean's shine,

the prayers that are made

out of grass?

mary oliver

i look upon everything

and therefore i look upon everything

as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,

and i look upon time as no more than an idea,

and i consider eternity as another possibility,

and i think of each life as a flower, as common

as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,

ending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something

precious to the earth.

mary oliver

no further consolation

he awoke, 

opened his eyes. 

the room meant very little to him; 

he was too deeply immersed in the non-being from which he had just come. 

if he had not the energy to ascertain his position in time and space, he also lacked the desire. 

he was somewhere, 

he had come back through vast regions from nowhere; 

there was the certitude of an infinite sadness at the core of his consciousness, 

but the sadness was reassuring, 

because it alone was familiar. 

he needed no further consolation. 

in utter comfort, utter relaxation he lay absolutely still for a while, 

and then sank back into one of the light momentary sleeps that occur after a long, profound one.    

paul bowles    

excerpted from   the sheltering sky

repetition

"any information which is common, after several repetitions, you cease to hear. 

you reject the common information, rather like if you gaze at something for a long time, 

you'll cease to really see it. 

you'll see any aspect of it that's changing, but the static elements you won't see."

 brian eno

simply be

let the beauty

that is you

simply be

the difficult work of love

" the claims that the difficult work of love makes upon our development are greater than life ....:

rainer maria rilke

letters to a young poet

time becomes locked in the grain

"works of art are of an infinite solitude . . . only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them."

rainer maria rilke

"letters to a young poet"

the unsayable

"things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would have us believe; most experiences are
  unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered ..."

rainer maria rilke 

letters to a young poet

the longing

a star

a tree

and the longing in between

gabriel rosenstock

like a star

i see thee glittering from afar-- 

and then thou art a pretty star; 

not quite so fair as many are 

in heaven above thee! 

yet like a star, with glittering crest, 

self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;

william wordsworth

from "to the same flower"

what am i?

i ride by

and see

the lines-

the horizontals

the verticals

the colours - 

the shades and hues

and i wonder

what am i to all of this?

what am i at all?

sighs and murmurs

today the summer has come at my window with
its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their
minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.

rabindranath tagore

lift up your faces

lift up your faces, you have a piercing need

for this bright morning dawning for you

words excerpted from 

"on the pulse of morning"

maya angelou

through the wires

soft signals . . . 

a flower's body

when i see the order

in a flower's body

amidst the chaos 

of a garden

i suddenly feel better

about 

so much else!

and i do

there's little 

to nothing

to suggest

anything special

is going on here

unless you choose

to see this that way

and i do

my idle dreams

my idle dreams roam far,

to the southern land where spring is fragrant.

wind and strings play on a boat on the river's clear surface,

the city is full of catkins flying like light dust.

people are occupied admiring the flowers.

my idle dreams roam far,

to the southern land where autumn is clear.

for a thousand li over rivers and hills cold colours stretch far,

deep in flowering reeds, a solitary boat is moored.

beneath the bright moon, a flute plays in the tower.

li yu

older now

looking out

through the window of life

i see that

both the real and the metaphoric

sky

oceans

hills

valleys

rivers and streams

all connect 

in a purposeful way

and yet why is it 

that it's only

now that i'm very much older

than i might wish to be

that i begin to see

everything

for what it is 

and for what it isn't

the house was quiet

the house was quiet and the world was calm.

the reader became the book; and summer night

was like the conscious being of the book.

the house was quiet and the world was calm.

the words were spoken as if there was no book,

except that the reader leaned above the page,

wanted to lean, wanted much to be

the scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

the summer night is like a perfection of thought.

the house was quiet because it had to be.

the quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:

the access of perfection to the page.

and the world was calm. the truth in a calm world,

in which there is no other meaning, itself

is calm, itself is summer and night, itself

is the reader leaning late and reading there. 

wallace stevens

one and the same

the one

becomes the other

although

they were never apart

they were

one 

and the same

acquiescence

she bowed before the rain 

i am grateful

i am grateful for

real silence      an unlikely companion     gifts without condition

and for the understanding of just how very simple

how very kind

how very loving

life is intended to be

one

i learned early on

to shy away from

"the darkside" 

"the underside"

"the other side"

"trust the inside" and

let it be one

with my "outside"

let my inner light

shine through the translucent skin

of my 

self

and all the while

like any light

i cast a shadow

and the shadow is attached

and touchable

and real

and darkens gently

and brightly lit 

spaces

even softens them!

and i have learned

over time

to love my shadow as being

as much of myself

as my body

my mind

my heart

because really

there are no sides

no edges

no othernesses of any kind

just one self

one wholeness

cities

think of london, a small city

it's dark, dark in the daytime

the people sleep, sleep in the daytime

if they want to, if they want to

i'm checking them out

i'm checking them out

i got it figured out

i got it figured out

there's good points and bad points

find a city

find myself a city to live in.

there are a lot of rich people in birmingham

a lot of ghosts in a lot of houses

look over there!... a dry ice factory

a good place to get some thinking done

i'm checking them out

i'm checking them out

i got it figured out

i got it figured out

there's good points and bad points

find a city

find myself a city to live in.

down el paso way things get pretty spread out

people got no idea where in the world they are

they go up north and come back south

still got no idea where in the world they are.

did i forget to mention, to mention memphis

home of elvis and the ancient greeks

do i smell? i smell home cooking

it's only the river, it's only the river.

lyrics     talking heads (fear of music 1979)

when it flowed

every object in this image 

was at some point 

in its becoming

a

liquid

and then 

through the necessity

of refinement

contained

in solid form

so as

to be able

to contain

other 

solid forms

and i believe

that each molecule

each atom

remembers

when it flowed