Harrison Mills, British Columbia
Start of the Valley
It was breakfast time. We were breakfast. Mosquitoes were out in full force and Karuna and I were the natural target. There were no other humans visible to take on in the out of doors along the highway. We survived, even though deprived of our Burt’s Bees herbal insect repellant.
In the Fraser Valley, temperatures were in the low 30 Celcius, quite hot for continued walking. At break time, one god brother (classmate of the same guru) had invited us for lunch. He goes by the name of Tota Gopinatha; he resides in Chilliwack and has a heroic history. He became a Krishna monk at age 15. Eventually he got married and ended up working in the Ministry of Children and Family. He managed to reach success, even on a grade 6 education, in helping orphans and abused children. Even though he left monastic life years ago, he maintains a strict level of sadhana (internal exercise) which includes mantra meditation. He cooks up a great veggie meal for our small Canwalk team. We were grateful for his blissful company along with his wife, Paulette.
From Tota’s home, we ventured by car to West Star Auto, managed by Tulsi, origins, Mauritius. He called the local media, Greg from the local paper. He also called in all of his staff.
“Meet the Walking Monk who can tell you the purpose of life,” he said as I walked in. Tulsi’s style is curt and cute at the same time, “Take this Gita, read chapter 2. We are not these bodies. Learn how to get out of the cycle of birth and death. The monk will tell you.”
It was instant friendship with his open-minded staff. The final piece of glory that crowned this day when a couple of Krishna devotees from Vancouver tracked me down to walk some kilometres for the evening shift. In fact, I was greeted by one of them playing Highlander bagpipes.
May the Source be with you!
36 KM
B L O G S P O T
Friday, 27 June 2014
Tuesday, June 24th, 2014
Hope, British Columbia
Metaphor on Life
So many artists and poet have sung and written about the travel on the road as a metaphor on life. You hit low points and valleys and high points and elevation. You also see the road as a link to destinations where experiences take place. In many of these places, there’s so little distinction, however, the only difference is in the name.
On the road or the trail there are so many enlightening moments, and sometimes sad ones, as in collision. God forbid, but it does happen. Lots of thought processing goes on in the mind of travellers as they are in motion. For a walker, there’s no exception. And also in the case of Karuna Sindhu and I who endeavour to keep a spiritual focus.
For the first four hours, he and I met with our first rain in a long time, until we reached the town of Hope. From there I took solo to Highway 7 and to a distinctive natured culture, the Fraser River Valley. Motorists along the way were super and friendly. One trucker saw me earlier on and knowing he would see me further down the road on his return, pulled over, came out of his cab, presented some cold water and a bag of almonds. He wasn’t much interested in my story or mission, he just wanted to give, to serve someone. What a big heart. And special thanks goes to Jiva and Jaya Sri for their gracious company and accommodation in Chilliwack.
May the Source be with you!
36 KM
Metaphor on Life
So many artists and poet have sung and written about the travel on the road as a metaphor on life. You hit low points and valleys and high points and elevation. You also see the road as a link to destinations where experiences take place. In many of these places, there’s so little distinction, however, the only difference is in the name.
On the road or the trail there are so many enlightening moments, and sometimes sad ones, as in collision. God forbid, but it does happen. Lots of thought processing goes on in the mind of travellers as they are in motion. For a walker, there’s no exception. And also in the case of Karuna Sindhu and I who endeavour to keep a spiritual focus.
For the first four hours, he and I met with our first rain in a long time, until we reached the town of Hope. From there I took solo to Highway 7 and to a distinctive natured culture, the Fraser River Valley. Motorists along the way were super and friendly. One trucker saw me earlier on and knowing he would see me further down the road on his return, pulled over, came out of his cab, presented some cold water and a bag of almonds. He wasn’t much interested in my story or mission, he just wanted to give, to serve someone. What a big heart. And special thanks goes to Jiva and Jaya Sri for their gracious company and accommodation in Chilliwack.
May the Source be with you!
36 KM
Wednesday, 25 June 2014
Monday, June 23rd, 2014
Hope Slide, British Columbia
Make a Friend
The Kootenay Mountains are way behind us for now. I had been walking a new mountain range as of very recently – The Cascades. Every ecosystem of these mountain ranges seems to carry some uniqueness. The unique feature of where I tread today was the strong presence of different wild flowers. The rhododendrons really stand out. The ponderosa pine had for me become conspicuous by its absence. Everything here is very green. The Similkameen River had been my amigo for several days. Now it’s departed and it’s replaced by other streams.
It was fun to experience the companionship of crows. It almost seemed that around every other bend in the road, a pair of them (Heckle and Jeckle) would seem to be waiting, watching and squawking. They would buzz around a bit before taking flight off in some direction, perhaps for the next traveller. It was my last full day on the Crowsnest Pass. Perhaps these black feathered dudes were expressing parting words.
And of humans? Much interaction. An older man from France came cycling up a steep hill on destination to the Atlantic. A biker by the name of Pete bombed up and down the highway passing me by several times, until finally he just had to stop and ask, “What are you doing?” A couple, Ruth and Paul, were driving, then stopped to find out what my mission is all about. Corey, a female trucker, blew a tire going eastward on the Crowsnest Pass. She was stuck on the highway, and was also stuck talking to me about the virtues of walking and spirituality. It was mutual gain. Flat tires are often times opportunities for opening up new friendship.
Friendship is a major component of spiritual life. If we look at the life of Krishna, He had so many friends. So make a friend, go for a walk.
May the Source be with you!
40 KM
Make a Friend
The Kootenay Mountains are way behind us for now. I had been walking a new mountain range as of very recently – The Cascades. Every ecosystem of these mountain ranges seems to carry some uniqueness. The unique feature of where I tread today was the strong presence of different wild flowers. The rhododendrons really stand out. The ponderosa pine had for me become conspicuous by its absence. Everything here is very green. The Similkameen River had been my amigo for several days. Now it’s departed and it’s replaced by other streams.
It was fun to experience the companionship of crows. It almost seemed that around every other bend in the road, a pair of them (Heckle and Jeckle) would seem to be waiting, watching and squawking. They would buzz around a bit before taking flight off in some direction, perhaps for the next traveller. It was my last full day on the Crowsnest Pass. Perhaps these black feathered dudes were expressing parting words.
And of humans? Much interaction. An older man from France came cycling up a steep hill on destination to the Atlantic. A biker by the name of Pete bombed up and down the highway passing me by several times, until finally he just had to stop and ask, “What are you doing?” A couple, Ruth and Paul, were driving, then stopped to find out what my mission is all about. Corey, a female trucker, blew a tire going eastward on the Crowsnest Pass. She was stuck on the highway, and was also stuck talking to me about the virtues of walking and spirituality. It was mutual gain. Flat tires are often times opportunities for opening up new friendship.
Friendship is a major component of spiritual life. If we look at the life of Krishna, He had so many friends. So make a friend, go for a walk.
May the Source be with you!
40 KM
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
Sunday, June 22nd, 2014
Manning Provincial Park, British Columbia
Against Green
Against the green mountain backdrop, I appear like a tiny saffron speck, I’m told. When Karuna joins me on the road with his usually orangey coloured wear, we are two obvious specks. Although small in dimension, we stand out at a distance. The only object that might be standing in our way is another mountain, and as the road circumvents these giants, a driver coming around the bend will suddenly see those two specks become bigger and bigger until he passes us by.
I had a conversation with myself this morning, “Am I a speck? Because I’m certainly not a saffron clad swami or a monk. The monk is only a position or a role that’s played out. I’m not these saffron robes either, they are a cover for the body. And the body is a cover for the soul. I am a soul, which is a mere speck according to Vedic authority.”
But my conversation with myself continued, “The self, or the atma (Vedic terms), is small, nevertheless, significant.” I kept thinking, “When I walk along the road, tiniest of bugs may land upon my bald head. Despite the bugs’ minuteness, I feel his presence significantly, especially if he bites. Small can be profound, even important. When we identify with our tiny spirit or soul and we come to the point of service, to the big Spirit from Whom we’ve come, then we become very significant.”
May the Source be with you!
35 KM
Against Green
Against the green mountain backdrop, I appear like a tiny saffron speck, I’m told. When Karuna joins me on the road with his usually orangey coloured wear, we are two obvious specks. Although small in dimension, we stand out at a distance. The only object that might be standing in our way is another mountain, and as the road circumvents these giants, a driver coming around the bend will suddenly see those two specks become bigger and bigger until he passes us by.
I had a conversation with myself this morning, “Am I a speck? Because I’m certainly not a saffron clad swami or a monk. The monk is only a position or a role that’s played out. I’m not these saffron robes either, they are a cover for the body. And the body is a cover for the soul. I am a soul, which is a mere speck according to Vedic authority.”
But my conversation with myself continued, “The self, or the atma (Vedic terms), is small, nevertheless, significant.” I kept thinking, “When I walk along the road, tiniest of bugs may land upon my bald head. Despite the bugs’ minuteness, I feel his presence significantly, especially if he bites. Small can be profound, even important. When we identify with our tiny spirit or soul and we come to the point of service, to the big Spirit from Whom we’ve come, then we become very significant.”
May the Source be with you!
35 KM
Monday, 23 June 2014
Saturday, June 21st, 2014
Princeton, British Columbia
Hitching
To my recollection, it’s been over forty years since I did some hitchhiking. In the late sixties to early seventies it was a fad to stick your thumb out appealing for a free ride from some kind motorist. Anyways, that’s what I did in my teens, in my jeans, with hair and beard.
Now, seeing the need to get back to our campsite after completing a brisk trek on the Trans Canada Trail over adventurous bridges and under old railway tunnels, I hitched a ride. I’m a different person since those youthful adventurous days. I’m now bald, in robes, and try to carry a smile to look cheerful, even though the body aches.
The fourth driver to come along showed me mercy. He said, after I boarded his van, “I saw you, and well, you’ve got to admit, you’re not the ordinary Joe. In fact, you’re a character, you’re interesting.”
My new friend told me he practiced some Buddhism, implementing some form of solemnity. But he found that people took advantage of that. He said he lacked assertiveness when needed. He’s had to adjust and has sought balance.
I suggested he be soft like a rose, and hard like a thunderbolt, depending on the situation. Or, as our guru, Srila Prabhupada, used to say, “Be a lion on the chase, but a lamb at home.”
Anyways, job done. I got dropped off at the campsite, just in time for Daruka to drive us to Leon, the monk. Indeed, we drove to his cabin to meet him. It is a piece of craftsmanship built by himself. He also employed cow dung that was used at the joints of this octagonal shaped home. Leon was one of those American boys who avoided the draft for Vietnam recruitment. He has a profound love for Picasso, and also expressed about the cabin, if it should be challenged by a forest fire one day, “So be it,” was his attitude. He was very pleasant.
May the Source be with him!
37 KM
Hitching
To my recollection, it’s been over forty years since I did some hitchhiking. In the late sixties to early seventies it was a fad to stick your thumb out appealing for a free ride from some kind motorist. Anyways, that’s what I did in my teens, in my jeans, with hair and beard.
Now, seeing the need to get back to our campsite after completing a brisk trek on the Trans Canada Trail over adventurous bridges and under old railway tunnels, I hitched a ride. I’m a different person since those youthful adventurous days. I’m now bald, in robes, and try to carry a smile to look cheerful, even though the body aches.
The fourth driver to come along showed me mercy. He said, after I boarded his van, “I saw you, and well, you’ve got to admit, you’re not the ordinary Joe. In fact, you’re a character, you’re interesting.”
My new friend told me he practiced some Buddhism, implementing some form of solemnity. But he found that people took advantage of that. He said he lacked assertiveness when needed. He’s had to adjust and has sought balance.
I suggested he be soft like a rose, and hard like a thunderbolt, depending on the situation. Or, as our guru, Srila Prabhupada, used to say, “Be a lion on the chase, but a lamb at home.”
Anyways, job done. I got dropped off at the campsite, just in time for Daruka to drive us to Leon, the monk. Indeed, we drove to his cabin to meet him. It is a piece of craftsmanship built by himself. He also employed cow dung that was used at the joints of this octagonal shaped home. Leon was one of those American boys who avoided the draft for Vietnam recruitment. He has a profound love for Picasso, and also expressed about the cabin, if it should be challenged by a forest fire one day, “So be it,” was his attitude. He was very pleasant.
May the Source be with him!
37 KM
Friday, June 20th, 2014
Hedley, British Columbia
Slight Confusion Over Monks
A pickup truck that was hauling a wagon with fir log pieces pulled over. The two male occupants came out and obviously mistook me for another monk as I was footing along on the shoulder of the road. One of the fellows spoke.
“We were wondering if you had some trees we could cut on your land.”
“Sorry, but I’m the walking monk, and I don’t own any land. You must be talking about this local monk I’ve heard about, Leon is his name?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” said the one man.
“When I came walking through here eight years ago, I heard about a guy living in a cave near Hedley. I hope to see him one day.” The two fellows wished me well for the continued trek as they tread their trail on wheels. They had pointed out the entrance way to the roadway leading to the monk’s current cabin. I took note. This was Native reserve land. I hope to meet Leon either today or tomorrow while in the area with intent to share concepts and traditions.
With Friday being what it is, traffic thickens. It is a weekend that has begun. The sun is upon us and it is a summer solstice, the longest day on the calendar. I had been looking with envy at the quieter road across the road from the Similkameen River. Daruka was kind enough to shift me and Karuna to the parallel trail where it was much more pedestrian friendly. Once we arrived there it was confirmed, yes, this is the path of a slowed down more genuine pace.
I will rate roads according to the modes. In our precious text, the Gita, the modes of nature are three in number. They are sattvic (cautious); rajasic (passion and speed); and finally, tamasic (destructive). In the transfer of roads we had shifted from passion to cautious.
May the Source be with you!
46 KM
Slight Confusion Over Monks
A pickup truck that was hauling a wagon with fir log pieces pulled over. The two male occupants came out and obviously mistook me for another monk as I was footing along on the shoulder of the road. One of the fellows spoke.
“We were wondering if you had some trees we could cut on your land.”
“Sorry, but I’m the walking monk, and I don’t own any land. You must be talking about this local monk I’ve heard about, Leon is his name?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” said the one man.
“When I came walking through here eight years ago, I heard about a guy living in a cave near Hedley. I hope to see him one day.” The two fellows wished me well for the continued trek as they tread their trail on wheels. They had pointed out the entrance way to the roadway leading to the monk’s current cabin. I took note. This was Native reserve land. I hope to meet Leon either today or tomorrow while in the area with intent to share concepts and traditions.
With Friday being what it is, traffic thickens. It is a weekend that has begun. The sun is upon us and it is a summer solstice, the longest day on the calendar. I had been looking with envy at the quieter road across the road from the Similkameen River. Daruka was kind enough to shift me and Karuna to the parallel trail where it was much more pedestrian friendly. Once we arrived there it was confirmed, yes, this is the path of a slowed down more genuine pace.
I will rate roads according to the modes. In our precious text, the Gita, the modes of nature are three in number. They are sattvic (cautious); rajasic (passion and speed); and finally, tamasic (destructive). In the transfer of roads we had shifted from passion to cautious.
May the Source be with you!
46 KM
Thursday, June 19th, 2014
Keremeos, British Columbia
The Road Gives
The road always offers provisions. In the last few days of walking, Karuna and I have been harvesting a number of natural growing goodies along the way just by the highway. We have been at plucking the Saskatoon berries, taking in amaranth - grains that ancient Greece indulged in, and also wild mustard leaves grabbed in generous clumps. I also witnessed lambs’quarters, a lovely substitute for spinach. These are all delectable items to add to our camp cooking.
Speaking of camping, the three of us (Daruka included) had the real trial of a time contending with high winds overnight, yet the weight of three men trying to be at peace in slumber, kept our tent in position.
Something that brought a different spin to our outdoor experience was being present at a tanning. Lynn, a native woman from the area, invited us to the bush by the river where I was asked to give a talk on parenting. Not having played the role as parent in this life (I'm a life-long celibate and monk for two thirds of my life), I at least qualify having witnessed my own parents being responsible and mature in this department.
In any event I delivered a lesson and thoughts on what it means to be a good mum or dad, while the group there had stretched deer skins and were treating them for moccasin-wear. It was a pleasure being in the company of these sweet members of the First Nations. Daruka had arranged a second trip to the Similkameen school to share my pilgrimage experiences with a new group of students.
Now Keremeos being situated in a fruit-belt area, gave me the opportunity to meet guys in the fruit-farming occupation. Handshakes worked for a local young farmer and pranams (palms together), addressing "Namaste/Hare Krishna" was natural when meeting a Sikh on his tractor. When opportunities arose I also shook hands with clusters of cherries off their branches, seeing them in such abundance.
I want to give a special thanks to Steve of the town's 'Review' newspaper. His questions for the upcoming issue were penetrating and insightful.
May the Source be with you!
36 KM
Wednesday, June 18th, 2014
Keremeos, British Columbia
Know Your Natural World
I mentioned to Dez, "I was walking through your valley and along the way I was singing my favourite (Vedic) songs at the top of my lungs."
Dez and his dad own close to 15,000 acres which are on both sides of the highway. I was telling him the feeling of freedom on the road. He nodded as if he knew the concept of freedom just from driving his ATV through his fields. In fact when he saw me at the other end of the valley he thoughtfully drove to a supply of water in his house, to fetch some back to me. What a heart! Now he's a beef rancher, but he's got a heart.
While I'm trekking (and usually for the first three hours Karuna accompanies me) Daruka is busy setting up engagements for me. He's not exactly the advance party. Things must happen rather spontaneously, almost on the spur of the moment. In the province of British Columbia teachers are on strike but that doesn't deter Daruka from approaching the private schools. He has a chat with the local First Nations people in Similkameen Rerserve and books me for a talk to the young students.
My presentation with them ends up being a part life-style/geography/history/phys-ed pep talk. The kids were great. They could also appreciate cultural parallels between their ancient ways and my adopted lifestyle from India.
"One thing we should all learn about the out-of-doors is to know our plants," I had suggested to the kids. Before heading off to school, our dear Karuna Sindhu unaware of the shiny three-leafed plant, poison ivy, decided to rest on a patch awhile there by the river. I hope he's immune.
"Also know where to step," tells the teacher of the class. She warned that in the area you have ruthless snakes which release poison. "When approaching a log, step on top of the log before gaining a good grounding on the side of the log you can't see. Don't startle the animals!"
Good advice!
May the Source be with you!
34 KM
Friday, 20 June 2014
Tuesday, June 17th, 2014
Osoyoos, British Columbia
Where Bhakti Is Strong
Fran was struggling up the summit with her bicycle which was weighed down with her goods, namely her tent, sleeping gear, clothes and food, which were equally balanced on either side of her conveyance. Her one third of the way up the mountain and my two thirds of the way down at a road’s switchback, became the meeting point, a spot ideal to stop and take a few breaths. We naturally had something to share about the glories of road travel, and as we did so, the strong scent of sage was ever present, enhancing the already pleasant sensation of overlooking the Okanagan Valley at the city of Osoyoos.
Happy trails, friend!
Down at the Osoyoos Beach, where Karuna was waiting for our ritual wraps in the morning, I also met Keith Lacey of the ‘Osoyoos Times’. Both he, and then minutes later, Brian Highly, of Okanagan Times, raised great questions about the walk. Hey, here we also met the local pot dealer. No, he didn’t even bother to try to sell us weed, we’re monks, right?
The real high power time of the day was a trip up to Kelowna. The stay over at Karuna Shakti and Aaron’s place, and then the program arranged at the Italian Cultural Centre. The hall is not large, but it did accommodate 50 plus. Just imagine a snug group of kirtan lovers who came to indulge in chants and dance after a brief “Tales From Trails”. I witnessed this enthusiastic group. There were no shy folks, no transcendental wall flowers. All was good. Also, our bhakti books, music CD’s and meditation mala beads sold very well. This is also a barometre that gauges the interest of devotion in a location.
Residents of Kelowna and Osoyoos, we love you.
May the Source be with you!
25 KM
Where Bhakti Is Strong
Fran was struggling up the summit with her bicycle which was weighed down with her goods, namely her tent, sleeping gear, clothes and food, which were equally balanced on either side of her conveyance. Her one third of the way up the mountain and my two thirds of the way down at a road’s switchback, became the meeting point, a spot ideal to stop and take a few breaths. We naturally had something to share about the glories of road travel, and as we did so, the strong scent of sage was ever present, enhancing the already pleasant sensation of overlooking the Okanagan Valley at the city of Osoyoos.
Happy trails, friend!
Down at the Osoyoos Beach, where Karuna was waiting for our ritual wraps in the morning, I also met Keith Lacey of the ‘Osoyoos Times’. Both he, and then minutes later, Brian Highly, of Okanagan Times, raised great questions about the walk. Hey, here we also met the local pot dealer. No, he didn’t even bother to try to sell us weed, we’re monks, right?
The real high power time of the day was a trip up to Kelowna. The stay over at Karuna Shakti and Aaron’s place, and then the program arranged at the Italian Cultural Centre. The hall is not large, but it did accommodate 50 plus. Just imagine a snug group of kirtan lovers who came to indulge in chants and dance after a brief “Tales From Trails”. I witnessed this enthusiastic group. There were no shy folks, no transcendental wall flowers. All was good. Also, our bhakti books, music CD’s and meditation mala beads sold very well. This is also a barometre that gauges the interest of devotion in a location.
Residents of Kelowna and Osoyoos, we love you.
May the Source be with you!
25 KM
Monday, June 16th, 2014
Rock Creek, British Columbia
Terrific Ordinary People
During my walking break time, I converged with my backup team in Rock Creek Trading Post. We met Steven, a former TM teacher from Toronto, who came up to us to sing the ancient song in Sanskrit, "Govindam adi purusham tam aham bhajami..." This means, “Oh Creator, I consider You totally awesome, for You are the original person.” This is a popular song sung in Krishna temples all over the world, and Steven happens to know it. Amazing how when and where you meet the most ordinary but special people.
Today I also met Derek, Jared and Kim, all of Bridesville. And even though perception may have it that we are looking at just ordinary people, because they reached out and offered to help me by proposing a ride or giving directions, I considered them extraordinary. Also, along the walk, I met a Dutch couple who pulled over their RV (recreational vehicle) and wondered if I was the monk they read about in the Creston News. Right they were. He is from Holland and she, from Surinam. What a fabulous gesture it was of them to invite me into their mobile home in sheltering me from the rain for a time.
My last installment of walking permitted me to meet cyclist, Mark, from Ireland. What an upbeat fellow he is. His journey, like many who traverse the vast track of land, happens to end up being one of pursuing self discovery. It’s not what he initially anticipated. He admitted about his trip, “I’m learning a lot about me. It’s meditative.”
May the Source be with you!
46 KM
Terrific Ordinary People
During my walking break time, I converged with my backup team in Rock Creek Trading Post. We met Steven, a former TM teacher from Toronto, who came up to us to sing the ancient song in Sanskrit, "Govindam adi purusham tam aham bhajami..." This means, “Oh Creator, I consider You totally awesome, for You are the original person.” This is a popular song sung in Krishna temples all over the world, and Steven happens to know it. Amazing how when and where you meet the most ordinary but special people.
Today I also met Derek, Jared and Kim, all of Bridesville. And even though perception may have it that we are looking at just ordinary people, because they reached out and offered to help me by proposing a ride or giving directions, I considered them extraordinary. Also, along the walk, I met a Dutch couple who pulled over their RV (recreational vehicle) and wondered if I was the monk they read about in the Creston News. Right they were. He is from Holland and she, from Surinam. What a fabulous gesture it was of them to invite me into their mobile home in sheltering me from the rain for a time.
My last installment of walking permitted me to meet cyclist, Mark, from Ireland. What an upbeat fellow he is. His journey, like many who traverse the vast track of land, happens to end up being one of pursuing self discovery. It’s not what he initially anticipated. He admitted about his trip, “I’m learning a lot about me. It’s meditative.”
May the Source be with you!
46 KM
Sunday, June 15th, 2014
Midway, British Columbia
Off the Grid
Usually there’s a railway line that parallels the road. There may also be a creek running along, or a river. In today’s case it is Kettle Creek. We also have the Trans Canada Trail which I’ve been tempted to trek from time-to-time. That path is practically visible from the road’s view, Hwy 3 or the Crows Nest Pass. I also happened to be walking close to another line, the invisible 49th parallel that separates the U.S. and Canada in the western section of North America.
Despite the various divides and lines that man has created, our wildlife just doesn’t understand our grids. As I was leaving Greenwood I saw a large moose leap a fence, cross the highway, and then occupy ground on a grassy mountain slope.
Motorists stopped to flick their cameras at the majestic creature. The moose, apparently, was not alone. It turns out she’s a mother and her two calves were left on the other side of the road and fence. She boldly crossed the road once again to unite with her young. Somehow, instinctively she leapt the fence once again quite close to my spot of standing.
The two adorable calves just couldn’t make the leap their mother made. They were once again separated by fence, road, traffic, and ditch. It was a real drama when she leapt back leaving her kids confused and she disappeared beyond the trees.
I and a number of motorists stood in awe seeing the interaction of kids and mum in a natural adventure. How absolutely heart-warming it was at that pivotal moment when the two calves ran to their parent in a most anxious mode.
Love is a powerful thing. It is especially powerful when it takes Absolute status. And speaking of love I want to offer my congratulations to all the dads of this world on this Father’s Day. My reflection goes to my own father who is deceased but was a great dad.
May the Source be with you!
37 KM
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