Window Seat To Wonder

It’s been raining for eight days, maybe more.  Our morning yoga teacher offered the meditation: please, notice the cloudiness - then let it go.  It’s good to remember how much clouds affect the mind.  And here, maybe more.  Boulderites are used to 300 sunny days a year.  We are eight days into clouds - residents feel worry.  The woman next to me in class lives in Scotland.  She shrugs, says, “Everyday is like this.”  Another woman adds, “Yes, but this rain makes us nervous for floods.”

Rightly so, the Boulder Floods of September 2013 are fresh in mind for some.  Parts of the city are still in repair, with much evidence of the devastation around the hiking trails.  After two years, some pathways remain completely closed off.  There is evidence of post-traumatic environmental stress.  A good reminder: we are so intimate with where we are.  I left Boulder at the end of August 2013, and feel gratitude for having been able to land safely home.   I’m also lucky to be able to return, each time I gather something more.  Traveling, especially returning to places over consecutive years re-kindles my interest in psycho-environmentalism.   How place shines through, intermingles with person. 

I would describe today as a Pacific Northwest day, a foggy San Francisco moment, a non-humid Indiana summer pre-dawn (after evening storm).  It makes me feel contemplative, dreamy, like I might want to take a boat trip to a small island.  The Flatirons, regular ruddy totems, are obscured in something of a foggy blur. I don’t mind the effect on my mind, as long as I remember it won’t always be like this.  It frees my moment up to consider life past conditions, while enjoying the trip of the time.

Alas, with no boat at hand, nor waters to travel on...I content myself with a latte and window seat to wonder.

Allison - PGM