This morning my eye was drawn to the beauty of scenes with simple ingredients inviting me to take frequent breaks from hiking to acknowledge them: water, reflections, sunshine, wind creating ripples on the water. Nothing complicated needing analysis, just simple ingredients presenting themselves to me as gifts. After a few hours of doing this, I felt a bit like Mary Oliver in her poem, Messenger.
Here is Mary’s poem and a few photos from Morris Island Conservation Area.
Messenger
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
- Mary Oliver
