Moments.  Memories.  Photographs.  Dreams.  All of these things capture something.  A specific place in time continuum of our existence.  Photos adorn office walls, hallways and bookshelves.  After they have served their purpose, we file them away in drawers, boxes and sometimes, the garbage can as their memory is just too painful for our hearts.  We place these images around us to remind us of a point of happiness (usually) or one which has deep sentimental value.  We make photo albums, scrapbooks and write diaries to capture the essence of a point in time as well. 

Locked in our brains are trillions of images and memories which pull to the surface when our soul needs it the most.  As a child and a teenager, my family and I would vacation on the sandy shores of Ocean City, Maryland.  The drive to the beach (The Shore, as it's known to folks on the east coast) took seemingly, forever.  Once the car came to a stop in the sun baked parking lot of whatever high-rise condo building we would be staying in for the week occurred and the doors opened to be greeted with the humid, salty air, time was placed into warp speed.  Moments and memories flew by and made the days seem like minutes and the week seem like a single day.  As was our tradition, we would spend the final night there on the OC Boardwalk taking in the sights, smells and sounds of summer.  Smells like French Fries with malt vinegar, open pit beef sandwiches, freshly made waffle cones and soft serve ice cream lingered all around.  Midway lights, arcade games and coin machines were music to a young kids eyes and ears.  The sound of skeeballs hitting the lane before making a jump at the coveted 50 point hole.  The screams from the "Zipper" as its occupants where spun around and upside down in the thick, oceanic air. 

Walking those old planks and staring at everything around while blinking slowly.  My way of capturing a moment.  I began this practice during that time.  A slow blink while consciously taking in the sight I was looking at and making my eyes act as the shutter on a camera.  Looking at "Ripley's Believe it or Not?!", BLINK.  "Thrashers", BLINK.  "Dumser's Dairy", BLINK.  The flashing lights of "Marty's Playland", BLINK.  Memories I can conjure up at the snap of a finger and feel the nostalgia created by them.  I am proud to say I continue that method of creating mental pictures today, as a 42 year old man.  

Fires, work stress and challenges with the health of one of my children have not allowed me to venture to the Sierra Nevada to hike or simply just enjoy being in a place which feels like home.  As the fall comes into full being, the air changes and so do the leaves on the Aspens.  I look forward to this time spent tromping around in Aspen groves feeling the magic of each moment and inevitable wonder of something new and different each year.  This year was no exception. 

After enjoying some Aspen groves in the heart of Hope Valley, CA, I ventured towards the Carson Pass and Red Lake area at the southern part of the valley.  Taking a dirt road off the main road to the edge of the motor vehicle access point, I killed the engine and grabbed my camera gear.  In this space, there was a hush.  Silence.  Forested bliss absent of man's influence.  Walking down the tree lined forest service road through Aspens and Cedars brings this Lost Soul, home.  Pausing every few steps to listen to the rush of the wind and the sound of the trees swaying in the October air, I ventured off the trail, through some old growth Aspens into an alpine meadow with an old cabin at the far corner some 500 yards away.  There is snow on the ground on the eastern facing slope and my feet leave size 12 imprints in the crusty snow.  

I lean over to take some photos of the golden leaves and find myself not clicking the shutter.  The moment is too perfect.  I blink hard and long.  I capture the photo in time.  A memory.  A moment.  A mental bookmark (for the scorching days of summer that I despise) as the breeze kicks up again and makes the mountains surrounding this sleepy valley seem even larger and more perfect than before.  My hand finds its way to the snow to simply feel the cold.  As I am feeling the coldness seep into my bare skin, I see a pair of leaves, frozen in time.  The leaves are covered in frost and seem almost mystical to me.  Leafy poetry.  That was my first thought.  It was hard to not grab my journal a write something about this moment, but I am glad I did not.  The urge to write has lessened lately as I try and focus on moving on from being a poet to simply, being.  I've never fancied myself a good writer anyway (however, the release this blog provides is good mental therapy), and simply taking in this small moment of beauty made me forget about all the things going on.  No thoughts about melanoma, physical therapy, children's pain specialists, MRI's, X-Ray's, and medication which has no effect in an effort to bring relief and comfort. The constant, daily, nagging stress of a career chosen that no longer brings any joy or satisfaction and only the escape to the mountains provides happiness and joy from daily routine.   

Leaf Poetry. 

This moment was just that.  A poetic tribute to the beauty of the universe and to how something insignificant like a few frozen leaves can change ones state of mind.  A nod to the spirits and guardians of this valley and surrounding mountains who protect this place of serenity and tranquility and bring peace to all who wander here.  Golden leaves surround me above my head as a blanket of white is below my feet.  A beautiful contrast in a beautiful place.  A moment in time.  An image to place into my mind while the joy of it warms my heart.

As fall becomes winter, take time see these moments for what they are.  Experience them, enjoy them and be present in them.  May peaceful energy surround you and permeate your soul.  May you immerse yourself in the things you love and bring you joy.  May you walk through this season of the year with a mindset of being present and just, being.  

Om Mani Padme Hum.  I send blessings to you all.  May Lung-ta, the Wind Horse, carry them, swiftly, to you and to all sentient beings throughout this earth.

"Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time."

Namaste, friends.