A horse who can win, and a woman who wants relationship
A Horse who can win, and a woman who wants relationship
No-till drilling can build your soil rather than depleting it
No till drill farming shows to be beneficial to fields
Buddha and the Slug
BUDDHA AND THE SLUG
10/24/2021
By Ariana Strozzi Mazzucchi
The first big storm in years after the worst drought in CA history, forecasted to rain over 18” in 2 days.
The buddha sits quietly, his hands resting gently on his lap. His robe is plain and weathered by time. The slimy, little slug slims and slimes up his chest. The buddha doesn't mind. He sits quietly, his hands resting gently on his lap.
The shell less snail slims and slimes his way up the rock of a man, who is cloaked in stone. Slowly but surely the little slug, moving at a snail’s pace, traverses up his neck and onto his rosy cheek. Still the Buddha does nothing, he just sits quietly. The trees across the creek, where Buddha sits are tossing back and forth driven by the warm winds of the sudden storm. The giant mama bay tree digs her roots deeper into the ground as her outer branches dance to and fro.
The storm is just beginning, and yet buddha sits quietly, undisturbed by nature’s demand for change. The whole forest of trees bends together like ballerinas dancing in unison, arms outstretched, flowing here and there. Rain drops falling from slippery leaves to the once parched earth are the choir, melodic and seductive.
The trees rush to soak up the much needed water, sending its freshness to their parched branches who are still cracking and groaning from the harsh drought. Nature keeps moving the lands, while Buddha sits still.
Is Buddha the rock that grounds the storm before me? Or am I the rock, sitting like Buddha, quietly being at one with the storm?
Upside down on unseen threads. A time for “Nimble Grace”
The, larger than a ladybug, spider hangs upside down on her intricate, yet unseen thread, dangling just above the water’s surface. Her extra long legs, three times the length of her slender figure, are barely seen by the naked eye.
What does the forest say!
©By Ariana Strozzi Mazzucchi
I’ve been contemplating how to work with the concept of Resilience. It’s a word being used alot these days and yet what does it really mean? How do you do it? As you may already know I write a lot about water, and how it its always moving and changing.
The estuary as metaphor for these tumultuous times
© By Ariana Strozzi Mazzucchi, 2021
I’ve been contemplating how to work with the concept of Resilience. It’s a word being used alot these days and yet what does it really mean? How do you do it? As you may already know I write a lot about water, and how it its always moving and changing.
The Golden Light of summer
By Ariana Strozzi Mazzucchi, July 2021
Lush green fields now a golden hue, sway in the strong, unseasonal winds. Unexpected heat, wind, and drought unfolds upon our California hills. I wonder what is to come? Will it be an early winter. That would surely be a reprieve. Or will fires burn our forests again this year?
I feel like the golden grasses swaying in the wind. I see before me so many unknowns. In spite of the pressure to bend, I stand tall. I lean towards the sky like a blade of milky oats, flush with seed. I thank Great Mother for the comforts she provides now. I call in quiet in my heart. My home is inside me.
I step into the golden field and harvest some seeds from the grass tops, saying ‘thank you’ all the while. I am reminded of the saying by Rumi,
“Out beyond ‘right doing’ and ‘wrong doing’ there is a field, I will meet you there.”
I invite you to relax into the unknown. Your home is inside you. Allow yourself to bend and sway. Remember you are rooted to the earth, and she is the ground upon which you stand. Say thank you to whomever and whenever you can. I would love to hear how you are and what you give thanks to.
PEACE