Void of Sound

Stand still

only sounds are inner ones

a beat and a breath

at 10,000 feet

Mt Rainier base camp

so quiet

until a boom 

20,000 feet above

silence then sound

traveling 

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Void of Sound

Mustard Field

  

While driving on a country road in England I saw a mustard field. It was just the right time when all the plants were in bloom, a patch of vibrant color on the landscape. I had to stop, take a photo, ponder the source of mustard, like Jesus sitting in the countryside, saw its brilliance and told a parable about the man who planted a mustard seed in his own field. It was a simple truth, one the people could relate to. It was a healing plant, an ancient mustard recipe. He used it to demonstrate the kingdom.

Pliny the Elder wrote of it. It can grow wild but when cultivated it is much improved. Once it is sown it is hard to get rid of it. The tiniest of seed yet Jesus said it will grow into a tree that shelters the birds.

the sound of yellow
vibrates from 2000 years
says my kingdom come

dVerse prompt on sound. Pliny the Elder wrote about natural history circa 23 to 79AD.

Mustard Field

Travel Seasons

In the fall, traveling across Kentucky and the Virginias, on our way from Mammoth Cave National Park to Shenandoah National Park. The autumn colors peaking on the trees, no rain, no wind. Drive by the bourbon distilleries, you can smell the sour mash.

Along the Florida Gulf Coast there are the signs for tupelo honey and oyster man wanted. This winter it is raw oysters served at Up A Creek. Searching for my favorite sourdough bread baker who has left the town and returned to Orlando.

Springtime was in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. There it is dry, no fires allowed. The lakes are down, dry grounds all around. Nature displayed everyday in forms cast towards the horizon. Now it is snowing in Utah.

returning to home

patient as a summer day

new journeys unfold

Travel Seasons