The trails above Heidelberg, Germany are covered with over 4 inches of snow. The sun is shining. There’s a light breeze at about 2-3 miles an hour – blowing tufts of snow from the trees. The birds are squawking and the ravens are groaning in disapproval. As I walk and tread the snow, the groan of the snow beneath my feet crunches, and smushes down. It creates a heaviness to the sound. A persistence. A creaking. Water is as one with gravity - the great leveler. As the snow tufts plummet down, they reach the most yin place. Through the path of least resistance, and courage to leap, they keep falling. I feel like the energy is rushed – things are melting too quickly and there is trepidation. The stillness, calmness of Winter changes when suddenly there is so much movement. It’s slightly disconcerting.
There’s a smell of snow – a lightness, a coldness, a metallic quality. It pierces through the nose. The trees and the vineyards on these slopes rest under the blanket as the snow contemplates its changing nature and the flow that is in its near future. I hear the sound of snow melt running down the side of the road and falling into a chasm - a small little gurgle as if chattering into the depths as it drones on and on.
There is something wise to the brilliance of the crystals that hang everywhere. There is something very direct and brutal to the water element in its pointed icicles. The ground looks soft but you have no idea what lurks beneath. Icicles above, the unknown below – it evokes the feeling of impending treachery and the suspicion that comes with it.
The water reflects all of the colors of light as crystalline drops hang on all of the vines as far as the eye can see. The vines stand in rows, covered with white, brilliant crystals. I feel inspired as the sea of jewels sparkles in the sun highlighting the brilliance of water’s clarity. I see the smoke rising from a chimney as it dissipates into formlessness. The scent of bonfire permeates the air. It’s about 1oC. I’m walking along side the deer tracks. The quality of the size of the snow melt stream has changed, and so has its sound. It’s become light, frothy and playful. Really high pitched and joyful – like a small water fountain – but in its context here, it reveals its lack of depth, a shallowness and an impatience in its babbling conversation. Energetically it occurs childish, brash, immature, and naïve – completely unconcerned with anything.
The hue of the snow is graying blackish blue. In areas where it is white it reflects a light tone of the blue sky, and the areas where it is dark are shadowed by leaves and trees. It is blue and black – a deep color and highly contrasted. I see in winter the contrast, the clarity between the frosting of the trees and the darkness of their bark. In the strip of snow that runs on the west-facing side of the tree that runs right from the bottom to the top – only the west-facing side is covered. The remaining part of the tree is black. And the silhouettes of the trees create this beautiful contrast.
Water falling from the mountain amidst the rocks into the depths – sounds like many chattering voices, each with their own story. Can’t grasp or provide a definition to it – who’s voice is it? How many voices are there? Once again I’m reminded of Water’s mutable personality. Energetically I feel a confusion over which voice is speaking, who to listen to, who to trust and whether there is any identity to it at all.
I walk down the snowy path where only a deer walked before me many hours ago, perhaps before the snow stopped falling. The tracks are somewhat covered. I’m the only one that’s been here today. Today I must forge my own path and be a pioneer. This requires I stay alert to where the path may go and be careful in my step. Watchfulness is a quality of the Water element, which gives me new knowledge and skill at detecting how to navigate through this landscape. I’m reminded of KD 6, Illuminated Sea which illuminates our path in life and gives us confidence to know and take on what is before us if we lack clarify in our life.
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