The prodigal sun

Lost and wandering
stumbling across the days
blinking my eyes, mouthing my words
nothing to feel along the way

Two weeks of "ick." Where have I gone? Why did I go?

This morning I trekked across the muddy, quenched earth, praying for some comfort. I have not been able to generate my own, so I asked the universe for a little help. Relying on the most basic of meditation practices, I wiped my mind of any thought of my own, that even peeked its little head into my consciousness. After a few hard-fought minutes, the canvas was clear.

There were an infinite number of mini-streams, broken branches, puddles and mud slides to admire. This most familiar path was a whole new adventure. The dogs chased a few scampering creatures to their safe havens beneath bushes and behind rocks. They always look so puzzled when their hunt mysteriously ends. Noticing several impressive tunnels probably dug by gophers, panic struck me. I couldn't help but wonder if these tunnels flooded in the heavy rains. Wanting to think otherwise, logic chastised my optimism as I submitted to the horror of probable reality. What if there were babies in there? What if weeks or months of hard earned harvests were washed away?

Empathy for the gophers' plights unfortunately re-kindled my own sadness for a moment. Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?

A little further down my walk was what used to be a clearing. Today it was carpeted with nature's litter. Do you think gophers spend much time grieving the loss of their nest or nourishment? They probably just get right back to work, building a new life because that is what needs to be done. I looked up and smothering the peaks of the Cuyamacas were deep, billowing clouds. The prodigal sun whose unprecedented strength illuminated both their depths and their reach, shouted to me that today, I walk a new earth.