Why are we travellers of this world always in such a rush, with minds that never have a moments rest, have we forgotten that there has to be stillness to hear a blossom fall: a moment of quietness to welcome a lone butterfly?
in the confusion
of peach trees blooming –
the first cherry blossoms
Matsuo Basho
Tr. Stephen Addiss
Stepping back from it all for a while, wandering quiet meandering paths with no thought of destination, I love to see the unnoticed flowers that grow beside gently flowing streams and listen to woodpigeons, calling somewhere in the trees overhead. Letting whim take me where it will, I journey on until I feel that underlying sense of calm, which comes from being in harmony with ones surroundings, drift into my consciousness. Inexpressible, spirit at peace, body safe and warm.
Eventually I find myself at the entrance to an old forgotten garden, a place I have known for some time. The garden is somewhat overgrown, the old garden bench upon which I will sit, a little worse for wear, but for me this is an enchanting, hidden sanctuary. Alone and at ease I meld with the whispering sounds, sights and fragrances that are set before me. Faint are the sounds of the distant world, subtle is beauty of the garden, the presence of absence is everywhere apparent here. At rest, sitting at peace under a tree, a light spring breeze arrives spreading out a quilt of blossom before me… this is a place to be still.