it comes in cycles
"How do I define true religion? Anything that gets us out of the
vanity box and lets the light in." - The Haiku Shaman
butterflies flee!
in his complicated suit . . .
THE NETTLE SPRAYER
It comes in cycles.
Even when I was a kid. There'd be a stay-at-home period of indoors after school, usually watching TV (the third parent) with my sister and later in the evening our parents. This was family life during the week.
Looking back I see a science fiction movie. So, nothing much has changed.
Then, it would be "where's the boy," followed, sometimes, by a car chase! Of course, the boy was in...OUTDOORS MODE. Out and about with the rest of the kids in a wonderland of intrigue and high adventure.
Yes, it comes in cycles. Like the moon which is always a delight. And the planets. And the zodiac. In summer the Milky Way Galaxy - that river in the sky so beloved of poets the world over.
The rough sea—
Extending toward Sado Isle,
The Milky Way.
Basho
My current cycle, not exclusively but significant, is doing the daily ginko (haiku walk) in late evening or around midnight (depending on pressure of work).
It's ok, just different.
On a clear night the stars can be plotted and the wonderful silences and sounds. The odd ghost now and again, or transdimensional entity. Lovely swarms of friendly little light orbs The hoots of hunting owls. This sort of thing.
The light displays of distant towns and cars and sometimes hunters torches in woods down the valley are a wonderful visual theatre. To capture the subtlety is way beyond anything but a painter's craft; even with a cutting edge camera - which my trusty Kodak isn't.
This entire site is a living document and as such will be developing - be sure to return regularly to the pages. Not just to see the changes, but also to review the material in the light of your accelerating trajectory.