The Snows of Spring

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#CottonWoodTree

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In Spring along the #CedarRiver crystal flakes float in the wind and gather along the edges of the trail.  They are so many of them, they make a carpet like snow.  We bent down to touch … soft, very soft … but not cold like #snow.   So many seeds cast to the wind ...

“Why don’t they grow trees?” Denise asks. 

Ahh but look and there they are … starting more like bushes along the embankment … then reaching high up in the old growth forest along the trail,  making a canopy for birds of prey to have a vantaged view. 

“I’ve seen this for years” i said. 

“But why are we just finding out about this now” suggested Denise.  

Outrageously i offered,  “Well i just now connected it all up to tell my girl friend” while looking at ancient moss covered limbs stretching above and spotting the bird of prey there perched.

So we #shared a moment of #meaning with the life around us … #connecting to that. 

It was not me … it was not her … it was what  a #CottonWoodTree does to connect on its  own. 


nathan when you walk on a path under #CottonWoodTree’s , do you think you have created the trees and their seeds floating in the wind to the ground and sprouting into more trees?

#btw as i was driving here to the #RoyStreetCoffeAndTea listening to a piano concerto by Chopan on the radio i actually felt my fingers playing the music … literally each note.  Now i have done a bit of piano playing a long time ago ... a story never told … but nothing like the feel of those scales and arpagios ever titilated my fingers … yet i was playing this music … and could almost feel my fingers on the keys for every single note.   Could i ever make the trees grow too?  I don’t think so.  Something quite different is happening here, me thinks.

All of that really. I know that I am the cottonwood tree and that I am the seeds floating in the wind and I know that if I were to focus my attention in the right way, I would be able to experience, not imagine, but actually experience softly floating in the wind with the singular desire to land and sprout. All that is in my experience is me and my attention can go there. Where my attention is not focused, is as outside my experience, as the beating of my own heart usually is too. There is that which I am aware of, and that which I am not, based on where my focus of attention is. And inside and outside, subjective and objective, are known only according to where my attention is.

Most often my attention is centered in this physical body and I experience some aspect of it and it’s desires. Not as much as your average person perhaps, because I am aware that I extend to all that I perceive and your average person is not usually aware of that. So I do travel with my attention quite a lot, but more often than not my focus of attention is in or around this body and in a particular verse.

One place my attention has always easily traveled, even as a child, is into the experience of dogs in my reality. This is why Natalie and others around me call me the dog Whisperer. Whatever dog is in my environment soon bonds with me and becomes mine until I move on. The experience of me as the dog is one I can effortlessly move my attention into.

It’s all you out there, even Chopan, in a different time that is actually now. You can tune any of it in as much as you desire. That you don’t usually experience it that way is only because you don’t move your attention around much, not that you can’t. It is also quite possible to experience multiple points of attention at the same time when one desires it … but that is yet another story.