I went out last evening to make an image of the rising moon. But while waiting for that, I turned around and there was the city, lit up as I have rarely ever seen it. A moment of "epiphany," "awakening." And I thought about what I've been (re)reading in Gary Snyder's work. His is a voice I return to again and again, and find myself re-awakened by it. In a book of interviews and letters (Nobody Home), he repeated what he had said elsewhere, that the "wild" is present even in the city. This is an ongoing puzzle and question for me. Snyder's life experience is quite different from mine; he has spent most of his in what we usually think of as the "wild," i.e., natural wilderness. Mine has been entirely within urban environments. So I find it interesting and suggestive when someone points out that the wild is present in the city too (and everywhere). He also spent some effort in emphasizing that what is important is paying attention, wherever one finds oneself. Finally, and relevant to my experience last night, he wrote: "Epiphany is that moment when you become one with something. The swoop of a bird, the sound of the rain, the clack of a broken tile, peach blossoms. And also, another human being." I also came across one of his poems that gets to this really well, I think. It is in Danger on Peaks:
small birds flit
to bough to bough
to bough to bough to bough
That's something I often see, looking out my window, or down by the bay . . .
Proudly powered by Weebly