4.29.2010

sit-spot: afternoon- horse field- Bethany, CT

I'm gathering dandelions. big wind blowing. grasses weaving and waving like green oceans with yellow bubbles. I'm in yellow bubble dandelion bliss. sticky sweetness on my fingers, a myriad of soft white tufted dreams floating by, tossed on the wind. blessings and blessings, wishes, dreams, hopes, and questions. which one will come true?

birds flying by on the wind, on the wind. flocks and families weave and soar through the blue and white. landed in green and yellow, i can only watch and wonder.

4.24.2010

sit-spot: all day- Ziibwewe Fairy Bed- Weston, CT

the wind tore around. sky went from all blue to all grey. and then the sun set! oh the sun set. morning birds singing again at evening: thanks day. deer wandering below me through skunk cabbage. ants and trees and moss and sky...

4.22.2010

sit-spot: before 'til after sunrise- Miano's yard- Weston, CT

i was summoned awake this morning by hungry raccoon rooting in recycling bin. soft sky with twinkling stars like little lamps in a soft cave. soft from the wetness in the air; wetness coming in like a cloud, like the clouds silently galumphing across the heavens. from soft grey to warmer purplish, to purplish bluish, to morning chorus of birds and birds and birds awaiting a slowly marching sun parading his shining path across the sky, across the globe. all the dandelion though, are still sleeping, petals tightly closed, everything closed, except for the toothy grinning leaves. i hunker down with a bed of slumbering dandelions to watch sun rise and dandelions awaken with violets and birds everywhere...

4.21.2010

sit-spot: 5 pm- Miano's backyard- Weston, CT

my mind just couldn't quiet today, even though relative silence
surrounded me... and the day blurred by (and i didnt even make it out
to my precious ziibwewe woods). i notice the birds laughing and
playing, most of the trees leaning in a general direction, and almost
all the garlic mustards in bloom with little white flowers like
crosses and leaves like green torches waving in the wind. wind weaving
and intertwining with everything, as i sit on a rock eating the garlic
mustard with olive oil; i realize i'm intertwined in too, as surely as
wind wraps herself so tightly around me and i stretch to the sun but
oh! the day is already done (and the birds fall silent... then burst
into a blaze of "good night" symphony color)

4.20.2010

sit-spot: final hours of sunlight- California rock- Weston, CT

someone has laid an AXE to the sassafrass tree growing next to my rock. someone has broken two of the trees who used to sit right next to me as i've sat all through the days of different days. someone has hurt this land, and so someone has hurt someone also... and someone has hurt me. bless you, someone. may you heal, and not hurt anymore.

4.18.2010

sit-spot: afternoon- between field and forest- Northridge, CT

wintergreen berry: a taste of winter fresh, a dot of precious red in a green landscape
rainbow: a gift of color in a sky of grey, like the millions of colors in a drop of rain, in a raven's feather
laughter: an explosion of breath in a symphony of silence

sit-spot: sunset- swamp entrance- Woodbridge, CT

fuzzy green soft magical leaves spiraling into a center point of nothingness and everythingness. oh-so-tasty a spiral! crows flying home. jack-in-the-pulpit popping up and open. leaf canopy reaching. bird song and curious looks. i am not usually here. and when i am, i don't normally stay. they accept me in, anyhow. at least the trees do.

4.16.2010

sit-spot: reflect- California rock- Weston, CT

sweet fern, black birch, sheep sorrel, sassafrass, mullein, dock, dandelion, raspberry leaf, cedar, green briar, etc.
foxes, birds, squirrels, frogs, owl, crow, chipmunk, hawk, turkey vulture, ants, bumblebee, flies, death gnats, geese, ducks, etc.
rock, clouds, sky, pond, trees, earth, powerlines, cars, houses, hill, forest, flowers, etc.
calm, peace, joy, anger, love, sadness, compassion, fear, wonder, questioning, curiosity, awareness, opening, healing, learning, growing, etc.

sit-spot: dusk- California rock- Weston, CT

at sun-down, at twilight the day seems to fade
from lightness to dark, the sky transforms
from blue, to purple, to grey
clouds rolling in blown by winds from afar
tossing the leaves off the hills
towards the stars
dancing in twilight on what i call now
california rock
reminded by friends that this place
it's not quite a new spot
i've seen rocks like these, and trees too, all around
and this earth, this fresh dirt
keep digging
and i'll meet you underground
thunderclouds stormclouds rainclouds and more
blow big winds blow!
i won't fight anymore
blow big winds blow!
i won't fight anymore

4.14.2010

sit-spot: early morning- California rock- Weston, CT

sounds of wind, ants walking around on crunchy leaves, spiders jumping, someone munching on a leaf. birch sap dripping all around, ants drinking and collecting it. they are so busy! i dropped a matchstick and it was picked up in less than a minute.

30 day sit spot challenge

More info on the sit spot challenge can be found at kamana.org/categories/20100301
 
What's a sit spot? ...it's a special place in Nature to go to everyday and literally just sit... and remain open and aware. I've been doing a lot more wandering than sit-spotting since I've been back in Connecticut, as I haven't found a place to really heart-bond with yet... until recently. And now, I have a couple rocks I call "mine" and a few spots I like to sit, dance, and watch at. It's a pity I'm leaving here soon, again. Regardless, I'm taking on the 30-day challenge, and will most likely be hanging out at the same spot half the time and sit-spotting somewhere between northern and southern Connecticut the second half of the time. I will try to write a little about what I experience at sit-spot on the days I have Internet access.
 
Blessings!
Jaz

4.13.2010

silent screams

the land is ablaze with color
of the different buds budding and flowers bursting and
everything ablaze and alive
except
for the one who sits silent in a corner
of the forest
of the field
the one who lies silent on the edge of a rock
ready to fall
but clinging on
sad and silent
and SCREAMING inside
wailing
like wind
trapped
inside of
a hellish
rock