I miss him still, his council in particular. Today alone, driving south I spoke out loud. Telling him about this and that, asking into the thin clear air.
There is that which is not born, and does not die.
The news is full of facts about how cold it has been this March. The coldest March since 1962 I believe. That was the year the swans were frozen into our local river in East Sussex. Somebody must have cut them free since I can’t remember seeing them dead. Even so Easter weekend was sunny and had people out on the street enjoying the fun of special events in the area. The local heritage railway was steaming as is their custom with excited children bouncing up the platform to climb aboard. A train whistle still heralds a quickening with excitement. I passed up an offer of a footplate ride in favour of a hot cup of tea in the (stationary) buffet car, a decision hardly believable to true train enthusiasts.
Walking out in the fields during the weekend we came upon several dead lambs. So sad. It is customary to recite the scripture, Adoration of the Buddha’s Relics for dead creatures. Oh and sometimes give them a name too. Basically one does a shortened form of an animal funeral, a blessing.
Walking on, gangs of lively lambs rustled as they ran and jumped in their plastic coats, something I’d not seen before. This afternoon I inched my way towards the two lambs in the photograph amazed that I could get so close. Trusting? Or simply content to stay put in their warming plastic coats?
It is so good to feel well enough to walk, to join with the leaping energy of these young creatures. There is much to be grateful for.
Practice Within The Order of Buddhist Contemplatives