.
A pale sun burning through the mist,
the soft clouds barely visible in the gray, blue sky...
Looking up the river I saw a bolt of lightning,
an arrow from the sky that pierced the earth.
.
A soft rain comes down from the gray sky,
and sullen thunder rolls into the distance.
My spirit drinks in the rain like the plants do.
I will be watered to my roots.
.
It is suddenly full summer.
We look out from leafy trees.
.
The fragrance of wild grape and honeysuckle
flowers drifts through the air.
You enter and leave currents of it as you go along the paths.
.
In the leafy woods there is such contrast to the sunlight
that the shade is like twilight,
like going down into a deep ravine.
The pale green of the jewel weed is ghostly...
Then to hear the thrush singing on the hill above...
.
I think I saw the first green heron.
Yes.
.
~ Harlan Hubbard
from his journals, taken here from
"Harlan Hubbard and the River - A Visionary Life"
by Don Wallis
.
