Dinkey Creek

I am lying on my back on a boulder on the bank of Dinkey Creek. From this position, I see an expansive sky of blue, rung with green treetops. When I sit up, I see a running river splashing over rocks as it makes its way downstream. When I flip over onto my stomach, I see a placid stretch of flat water gently and slowly flowing on its way. When I look across to the other shore, I discover there is a walking trail on that side, and I realize that the gentleman exploring that path is seeing the scene from a totally different perspective.

As I turn my head to the left, I see just the lower half of many tree trunks, a variety of wildflowers and shrubbery growing out of craggy crevices, and an outcropping of boulders. When I turn my head to the right, I see entire tall trees, the creek, more boulders and rocks, and a wall of granite in the near distance. When I look straight ahead, I see those things as well, but also a gravely, sandy trail, ancient sturdy tree roots clinging to the rocky soil, and a fisherman with his gear. Some trees are green and vibrant; many are dead or dying from the stress of drought and bark beetle. Some stretches glimmer in the sunlight; some spaces are in shadow.

I have not gone anywhere. I have not moved from this 3’x 6’ space. I am still where the sun bathed my skin ten minutes ago, but now I am completely in the shadow. To feel that warmth in this new moment, I move upstream and find a fresh place to enjoy the light. Again, I see that this is the same creek, but it has a feast of facets. Each nook, cranny, bend, bow, dip and rise helps to shape and form its journey.

Things look different depending on my vantage point, my collective memory, and my current state of mind. I honor the validity of each perception with wonder at their diversity… and at the same time, I recognize that it’s all really the same… each variation and expression is part of the whole. We are all one, there is only love and light, and there is only the present moment.


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