the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
on the banks of hare creek ~ june 2, 2001 - 5:06 p.m. I am just so happy today. last night I went up to sam's land to set up my camp. I've got this great little spot next to hare creek, up from the creek and down from the road, and it's gorgeous and I can hear the creek singing me to sleep at night and to wake in the morning. river is flowing, indeed. so I was smudging my campsite and setting up my tent, and across the creek, rachel and michael were having a farewell party before flying off to hawaii for an indefinite amount of time. amazing bluegrass musicians began to jam while I was setting up my blankets and I was overwhelmed. I got set up and hopped across the creek to the party, where all kinds of friends and amazing musicians were... I brought fairy wings for rachel, who is a fairy and had no wings, gave her the wings that have carried me safely down all the roads... I played drums at the drumcircle for the first time ever... then I let go and just danced and danced. some goddess women turned me on to moonshadow dancing (the moon was incredible), and we did that for a good, long time. another sister danced with fire in the darkness. when I was too tired to do more than sit and stare into the fire, I stumbled back across the creek and into my tent to meditate and crash. I fell into my dreams with the sound of drums across the creek, and they began again in the morning as the people who'd crashed after the party woke and stretched in the sun. today I woke slowly and watched branch patterns and sunlight splashes dancing on the roof of my tent. I stretched and lazed and breathed in the rhythms of the drums across the creek. I walked down to the water to fill up a pan, and bathed in a patch of sun with eucalyptus dr. bronner's. headed into town to do laundry at the mat. I've been singing all day. it's good to be home.
(((rings))) |