Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Down By the Riverside
In the last couple years I've grown find of taking walks at night, especially down by the river. It's peaceful, and I spend time walking with Tsisa. Often He's given me things to write, or just told me stuff.
In the wintertime, of course, it's something I rarely if ever do—for obvious reasons. (Though summertime is not without it's downsides, but at least I can put on mosquito repellant then!)
Tonight I felt moved to come down here again, for the first time since winter took hold. It's been an unusually warm day today, though it's hassled half the city with a huge dose of pollen. And some lovely pollution increasingly wafting over from China.
When I came down here tonight and saw the river, I was just instantly thankful. I miss nature. I didn't realize how much I missed it until I saw it it here. Granted, there are some factories on the river, a road above the north bank, and apartment buildings on both sides. But there's also grass, and the banks are a little high so the path down here is a bit shielded from all that.
The river is calm tonight, almost glassy. There's almost no wind. There's a mist in the air, maybe from the sea, or maybe from the aforementioned pollution—whatever the case it's beautiful. The stars are mostly obscured by it and the usual city lights, but the few I can see are spots of heaven and are grace to my heart tonight.
I like this escape. Wado, Unetlanvhi.
Sometimes it's difficult hearing about the indigenous connection to the land back in Turtle Island. I can't taste that here. I don't often think about it, but as I write about it now I feel the grief coming out that I can't be there now to experience it and to reconnect with the land. (It certainly makes it difficult to paint pictures having to do with nature back there, as I'm trying to do now for a friend.)
I'm grateful for the little nature I can get while I'm here. Coming from the Eastern Woodlands and growing up near a large park surrounding a long creek, I always felt pity for what many Japanese people often call a "garden" at their homes—a few potted plants on the veranda of their apartments.
Since my wife started keeping plants that way, though, I could see what a little bright spot it was for her... a little bit of some kind of healing I can't understand or put into words. But now by the river maybe I can understand.
Wado, Unetlanvhi. Thank You for the river.