divorce brutality & healing | Central Park, Walking in the Ramble

Walking has become a metaphor for my life these days —besides providing healing while I am trying to keep my sanity struggling with the divorce brutality. 

During my morning walk in Central Park I kept getting lost in familiar grounds, the Ramble, where I have been walking probably almost hundreds time, in any season.
But I have finally, found sunlight to orient and guide me in the darkness. Quite a metaphor...

camminando | Ohiopyle: Rivers, Trains and Views from Above

The state forest of Ohiopyle of the Laurel Highlands offers great scenic beauty. The Youghiogheny River can be seen by white whatever rafting, or more quietly from above. Twenty-seven miles of abandoned train rail tracks from the Great Allegheny Passage overlook the river crossing over a forest, whose towering trees can be seen from an usual view from above.

Poetry | What do I do when I'm lost in the forest?

What do I do when I'm lost in the forest?

Stand still. The trees ahead
and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here.
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger.
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers.
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it you may come back again.
saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you.
You art surely lost. Stand still.
The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

Northwest Native American Tradition

translated by David Wagoner