by Tim Girvin | Aug 21, 2005 | Writings
I’m looking out to nothing, in the far hours before dawn. And I hear the huffing of three otters, swimming. I can see, by moonlight, their triangles of passage in the water rippling, in triad. Off there, hearing another: hooting in strokes of three. Hoo hoo hoo...
by Tim Girvin | Jul 2, 2005 | Writings
The slightest wind ruffles the waves, which whisper: where… are you, where — in your going? Where now, do you wander? Or are you merely drifting, yet standing still, in that watchful sentience: the Watcher, sensing the shadows now, the light… Which...
by Tim Girvin | May 28, 2005 | Writings
in memory, finding again those images, that open the heart, and holding these close, embraced in watch fullness. Standing clear, in sighting those threadings that suture our seeing, again and again: miracles alight. For those, focused — in attention and...
by Tim Girvin | May 23, 2005 | Writings
I had an experience yesterday, which I’d like to share. I went walking with Gabrielle, my daughter, along with her dog. This dog, which is really rather adorable, does have all the character of a working animal; it’s got extraordinary strength —...
by Tim Girvin | May 7, 2005 | Writings
I like the strong sensation…and here it is, in the weaving of winds, this early morning, the stinging spattering of rain, in the darkness. There is a clapping — and it’s water slapping the waterbound logs, below. Madrona leaves shuffle like paper,...
