Dispensation from Heaven

Great Brook Farm State Park, Massachusetts   

We have felt that we almost alone hereabouts practiced this noble art;
though, to tell the truth,
at least if their own assertions are to be received,
most of my townsmen would fain walk sometimes, as I do, but they cannot.

No wealth can buy the requisite leisure,
freedom, and independence which are the capital in this profession.

It comes only by the grace of God.
It requires a direct dispensation from Heaven to become a walker...

HENRY D. THOREAU, Walking

Steps to the Invisible

Great Brook Farm State Park, Massachusetts   

Amidst the colors and sounds.
  Through the finesse of twists and turns,
    to the edges of cornfields,
  where seeds are almost ready to catch the wind.
  
  Just in time to see the Monarch...

Golden Moments

Fresh Pond, Cambridge, Massachusetts   

Thistles belong to the class of noxious weeds as defined by humans.
   Why is it so ? Very SIMPLE reason.
  They tend to invade the space where OUR plants grow. The plants we use for food.

  Never mind that it is a plant that gives food to butterflies, all kinds of bees, and Goldfinches.
   Passing by a bunch of thistles gives me an idea of value that these beings attach to the plant.
    
   See them, hear them.

  Feel the buzzing energy, passion and joviality of the moment... 

Spirited Summer

Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary, Massachusetts   

Parents with a boy are approaching.

The boy stops in front of me and asks: What is your name?

Bojana
How old are you?
Very old. And how old are you ?
I am 5 years. When were you born?
In winter. And when were you born?
22 February

WOW !!! I was born on 22 February. This means that we have something in common !!!!

 HUGS and SMILES !!!

      On these lively days of summer... 

Somebody is Watching

Great Brook Farm State Park, Massachusetts   

Painted Lady or Vanessa...
  What a beautiful name for a butterfly !

 It is not that often that I like the name given to a non-human living being.

 But this one really goes so well with the showy flutters,
   and the colors that spread over wings,
     as if inspired by some kind of unknown, imaginary presence.

 With the eyes, looking at me... 

In the Spirit

Nelson Memorial Forest, Marshfield, Massachusetts   

Following the overgrown pathways to somewhere...
 
Where the views stream into depths of joint efforts to make this place a living exhibition.
 And each step makes me aware that I may not belong here.
   Yet,
       all the suffusing harmonies and melodies come so close when I hear them...