#windstock

Another rejuvenating day at Windstock youth festival in Washington today. So much music. So much spirit. #Windstock #Youth (at Lyle, Washington)

funny, how much one can communicate with such little effort regardless of the distance

A handful of pictures from this year’s kite festival in Lincoln City! Aptlly named “Windstock”

they had been stargazing lying in the hilly grass wrapped up in wonder savoring the rare ancient light coming home through the roads dark one-lane snake of asphalt illuminated, alone they felt the spirit of wilderness singing melodies from the year where they all felt kind of lost the choir rose up as the fire did of souls searching, finding again as cosy as intended for those needing the warmth from a friend

this one was different like trees all in a line, they grow differently and to different heights this one was special in its dense sort of way life condensing like water on glass like dew on morning grass-blades I thought it wasn't real this spirit of loving acceptance that allows for great change but it was the eyes for me, their glint even in daylight reflected a bonfire for me, the neck come poised and strong elegant and purposed for singing good songs for me, the sound of the roar billowing laughter cascading, encouragement mounting cicadas chirping in a valley made of God something more than itself grounds that pulled you from you and joined your light with others' and all of this in a single heartbeat pumping life radiance to face now to see what inspiration might hold for all of us, this year?

we are at the lake we, the body composed members of members bright minds in strong bodies loving hearts, beating in sync to a beat are alive, enjoying something beautiful as it unfolds in front of us because of us the well-meaning act of life at the folding of many worlds many universes, into now, here, together, being somehow more than our singly selves at the lake even if six of us are swimming and the rest are talking and laughing we are at the lake and we are going somewhere for now, the lake and its conference its intricate workings to inspire us and bring us home to the feeling of hearing the wind run through the valley, sun on the back and body soaking it all in thinking, knowing that today is a good day

winds of change blowing in through the valley looping curly-q's of gusts invisible buffeting hosts river swaying in the fold the crease in the earth, carrying life to all life fresh love to conquer hate these lights of heaven's lights shouts echoing from the first call the thundering command "be" reverberating through the land they come as doves and nightingales and larks to make the world become as a place of pure light welled deep with love, with soft flowing streams of melodies coming out of every place, every field which they work calling out to God, "what say Ye, what say Ye?" and with seeming no words fall in harmony in command calling out to one another, "What say ye, what say ye?" and seeing Truth's face in the eyes of another and seeing true light with the eyes of a lover who searching for their hope, becomes the wind itself formless, powerful, and always at unceasing peace

the yellowed lights were low as if the house were filled with candles to the dark night, they all faced eager to speak some forty people - maybe ninety as the hours passed, numbers made less sense there was only the holy air electrified by their voices all the world seemed a conduit and soon they too became a difference flux, passing through the paved wire an all-loving signal down a side road, curving in the night, parading their heavenly chorus entering the church of the earth, with bark and blade and insect as witness spoke and sang while their bodies tried to reclaim them their souls produced the natural harmony hoping their wishes like embers in the fire floating into the world, from ash they prayed for so many better things and never really quite stopped