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A Black Rat Snake
I have not picked up a snake since junior high when I was old enough to begin working and the days playing in streams and ponds pretty much came to an end. It’s not something one forgets. And today, there was a black rat snake in the garden (Note: they are harmless and eat small rodents.)
By the time I noticed what was going on, it he snake was completely terrified from having been pulled out from under some heavy farm equipment with a rake. The goal was to bring it to the woods behind the garden, but first to make sure it did not get caught in the machinery.
I invited myself into the fray, gently and securely held the snake about an inch below its head, invited its release from below the rake, and then gave it my other arm for it to wrap around, and it hugged me around my back and to the top of the arm that was holding its head.
Someone else opened the garden gate and I went into the trees and released it into the underbrush. I doubt it helped that I talked softly to it, acknowledging its fear, and apologizing for dislocating it.
It felt like an honor to have this short dance. The musky odor was not so nice; I also appreciated it as a very cool super power.
“Just a little green…”
A neighbor who lives in the top floor of the building across the street, and thus has a spectacular view of the maples in front of my house writes:
“The buds on your tree are more numerous than yesterday, and more visibly that color that Joni Mitchell sang about: “just a little green, like the color when the spring is born...” And we’re getting a good, soaking rain. Happy Spring!”
I have heard the song so many times, I do not need to look it up, except to share both with those for whom it is not part of an intimate map of a long ago period and with those for whom it is and who will have, by just seeing the words (and even more so by listening), some upsurge of memories and a revelation of the miraculous play of consciousness.
State of the Garden (Front)
For a few precious days each year, the light in the house and underneath the Japanese maple in front of the house glows red.

Precious Are the Mornings
Precious are the mornings when the light is soft
And the air is gentle–for those who consciously clothe themselves
With respect for the intermarriage between
Their body and the day–and when the play of shapes and colors
In the sky and upraised trees dances visions
Of the vast creativity of Being. No doubts arising
Until one reads the news and, once again,
Must reconcile in heart and mind what is there with
The teachings that all is one and full of joy.Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
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Cherry Blossoms at the Japanese Memorial (and Abhuta)
When I was walking home in the gray chilly day, astonished and awed by the beauty and effulgence of the cherry blossoms as if experiencing them for the first time though I have been witnessing them blossom here for over 25 years, I thought about the principle of abhuta.
Abhuta, which means wonder, is one of my favorite sanskrit words. It is one of the important aspects of the Anusara alignment principle of “opening to grace.” When we approach things freshly and with wonder, then we will not only experience more delight in our daily lives, but we will be more open to learning something new from what we experience over and over again, both on and off of our mat.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.




