The light in the woods this morning was expansive. Not the laser like beams that can focus attention to specific places. This light felt inclusive and vast. Exquisite. Drawing me and Nora and Yogi into the next dark but inviting place.
It is no longer just me and Nora on the extended morning walks. Yogi is of a size and need for expending energy that necessitates some serious exercise as well. While Nora does her usual romp and dash, Yogi practices being ‘with me’, the command I use for heel.
Photo by Molly Krifka
I don’t dare let him off leash in the larger woods yet. We do practice off leash and recall in the smaller woods behind the meadow, and he knows all the benchmark points for re-connecting after one of his impulsive dashes. It does my heart good to see him run full tilt untethered, lumbering with grace is the only way I can describe the speed with which he takes off after his sister. But I am all too aware of the relatively short distance between me and him that allows him to tune me out and continue his merry way. We still have a lot of practice to do. In the meantime, our walks in the woods while Nora is off leash are interesting and clearly challenging me to open to yet another form of experiencing this place.
I just couldn’t take in enough of the light this morning. Accentuating how long it has been. Even the tree that has recently crashed down to block the path seemed to beckon.
The entire walk felt like a reunion with green and rock and wood and hush cool path that extended way beyond me. I couldn’t help but reflect on this past month of Molly being home and our annual Ford family reunion. How family reunion can feel so different than this kind of reunion with vastness. Coming together with core family is exciting and challenging all at the same time. It allows us to rest in specifics along a thread of time that feels familiar and safe. But this thread that originates in memory can also be restrictive if clear awareness and care is not exercised. We can easily get lost in the laser like focused light of something past which might not hold room for the path of expansiveness that each of our lives has taken and led us to. We love and we want and we revel and laugh and sometimes we cry. It feels like there is never enough time to truly share the depth of who we are in our individual lives and how that might actually expand who we are as a family. But it doesn’t matter and it doesn’t stop us. We come back year after year, to commune again, creating another twist in the thread of memory that will always bind us.
There is a particular place along this walk that I love to arrive at. It is impossible to photograph, to capture the essence of expansiveness here. This morning I stood and felt the imprint of Molly at my side as she had been earlier in the week before here return to Peru. It was our last walk in the woods together and I wanted her to feel this place. She immediately pulled out her giant Canon camera and tried, even after I told her how difficult it would be. She finally gave up and said, ‘there’s no way to capture the depth of what is here’. Instead, she swung her lens around to the light sparkling off a small section of leaves.
There we were, all together in focus, in light, and I know, always in love no matter what depth of experience was captured and taken home.