Consulting the creek

 When the Taoist sages would go on a retreat, they would say they were going to consult the mountain. Just so. I go consult the creek.

I was walking down the south bank where there are several kinds of reeds, which are distinct from the sedges by feel. “Sedges have edges, while reeds are round.” You can, by running your hand over the culm, or long main stalk of the plant, tell whether it’s triangular, and thus a sedge, or round, and thus a reed.

I was trying to see the difference, rather than feel it, to find the small details that would allow me to tell, from across the creek, what I was looking at.

It’s possible, while going on a walk, to think about profound questions. When I do that, the reeds and sedges disappear. I don’t see the swallows feeding over the lake or hear the cardinals singing.

Conversely, if I am walking around the creek looking at rushes and sedges, I’m incapable of thinking about profound questions. My mind doesn’t go blank. It becomes still in this way: for that moment, it doesn’t concern itself with questions about philosophy, the pandemic, the American political tragedy. Only sedges and reeds.