week 10, post 3

last night as I traveled back down the bayou to home, I found myself longing for peace and solitude. So I went all the way down the road to the marina at the end. It is very quiet there in the evenings and all the stars are on display. My only companions are the statue of Christ at the "harbor" entrance and the pelicans roosting on the pilings. My longing transitioned into a deep feeling of sadness. As I explored the sadness it seemed to be not my own material, but something much bigger -- the sadness of the place spirits (ancestors), the sadness of the people here, or the sadness of the marsh itself, our mother earth, in its dying. This morning I rose early and sowed grass seed -- a little gesture of caring, restoring the earth of our place from all the mud and devastation. I cried several times as I contemplated how our earth is injured, and the marsh is dying. I do not usually experience gardening as a spiritual exercise, though I know that many people do. But I did this morning. So many of the people here have lost all hope. They will stay as long as they are able, but they have no expectation that they will turn this land over to future generations; they are turning it over to the sea.

Picture time: as I get the hang of it, I'll learn to post the right pictures to fit the text of that day -- when I get the hang of it. In the meantime, here is a picture of the hindu wedding ceremony I was privileged to attend in NO. I am also posting one of my pictures of a marsh sunset -- beautiful.

Peace, Warren.