Radiance, Love, Discernment, Power, & Leadership
Today, walking through the misty forest, everything took on an ethereal quality. Sounds were muted by pattering rain drops, and sight was limited to the land immediately beyond my feet. Standing still, I could watch my crew of students emerge from behind a wall of cloud, and then disappear again as they moved on. Such was the case with everything — momentarily coming into soft focus, then fading away into the depths of the forest.
Copyright (C), 1998, by Ashley Guberman
Tessentee, NC
It is now dusk on the first night at my new location at Outward Bound. Four people are playing guitar, one harmonica, one penny whistle, and a mandolin. They are playing "Blues" with OB-type lyrics, attesting to the gripes that crews of past have endured.
I was wishing I played an instrument, but alas, mine is simply a gift of another kind. Mine is the gift to move pen on paper and set thoughts free for all to see who take interest:
Much of the fervor of playing that existed earlier in the evening has faded away now. There are but a few spurious notes here and there from a mandolin, and the chatter of voices discussing various things of no great import.
The light of dusk is fading into nothingness, and peeper frogs are beginning to claim their place in the sounds of night.
Staring onto the porch, faces fade into silhouettes, and shadows lengthen from the light within the cabin. This camp is to be my residence for the next few months… Green Cove shall indeed be my home.
Copyright (C), 1998, by Ashley Guberman
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