At each change of the season, I lay out a yarn labyrinth atop a soft open hill field near here.  It offers a wide promontory point view of a lake, hills and, when it is clear, a range of mountains and a volcanic magnificent cone of a summit to the south.  Tahoma.

I go out early and cherish the time watching the sun change night into day, birds chatter furiously as if to their surprise, they are alive and glorious once again.  The dark shadows slowly turn into green and the gray lake begins to sparkle.

Today I carry that view of miles of splendor in my heart as I have conversations that need me to take the high road.  I will sit anchored on that open field and not be pulled into the ravine beside old dirt roads.  I will admit my failures, and move on to the lessons learned.  One of which is to stay seated on the easy brilliant soft persevering and humble grass.

I am now and always am completely at one with the essence and beauty of Gaia, from whence I was born and to whom I dive through the years to cocoon.