The metaphysics of an autumnal morning ride

This was a good morning for an autumn ride around the Great Cape Loop.  The pool is full again at Gordons Pond, geese were dropping in and heralding their arrival with their characteristic fall honking, tons of shore birds worked the shallows - gulls, herons, terns - and the sun rose to burn off the overnight chill. High tide bush is blooming gloriously and close on its heels is goldenrod.  Here are some photos from the morning.  Good light.  Good night. Take advantage of these days while you can and get outdoors.  That’s the best place to hear God singing.

Somewhere deep in an obscure dusty chapter of a dusty textbook on the ancient and lost art of metaphysics, I read about a magical moment in the fall when vapors rising off the blooms of high tide bush and goldenrod - heated and released by the clean light of first sun - blend in an alchemical fashion.  It’s said that if you happen along at the right moment, and inhale the mixture, it finds its way quickly into a recess in the brain and like a shining key used only rarely, unlocks a flash of deep understanding about the enigmatic nature of the infinite universe.  Of course I’ve only heard about it, never experienced it, though I’ve seen the marriage of high tide bush and goldenrod blossoms when the release is possible. Must be like that infamous green flash which I’ve never been lucky enough to see.  So for now, I’ll still have to fall asleep pondering the mysteries that mankind has pondered forever and which Maya Angelo referenced when her daughter was a newborn and she asked her: “Quick, tell me where you came from before you forget.”

I guess that’s one of the problems with babies being born and not yet being able to talk.

And speaking of alchemists, congratulations to Bob Dylan on his receipt of the Nobel Prize for Literature.

 “When the rooster crows at the break of dawn, look out your window and I’ll be gone; you’re the reason I’ll be traveling on, but don’t think twice, it’s alright.”

Love you Bob.