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| Grounds of the Pecos Monastery |
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| Benedictine Monastery near Pecos |
From the highlands of New Mexico around Santa Fe and Pecos, to Santa Rosa at a mere 4,500 foot elevation. My stay at the Pecos Monastery was study in silence. Only when I met a monk on the grounds during
one of their brief freedoms from prayer and liturgy could I try to
understand.
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| A river runs through the grounds of the monastery, the Pecos River |
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| In the arms of a tree, a fallen tree is held up |
memories
of her fallen mother
gently
not to bruise
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| Natural Impression in an Old Log |
and died here
and a tree
perhaps
understood
Coming to the lowland, wildflowers line the road and scatter
among the sparse brush along Old Highway 66.
I crossed the Pecos River near Dilla. This could well be where the Joad family in
Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath camped. They
had gone to a wrecking yard in Santa Rosa for a part. (Chapter 16) They returned to somewhere about 40 miles
west of Santa Rosa and camped. It could have
been here along the Pecos River. I saw
no other water in this arid land. Here
they met a man here who was returning, given up on California “I’m comin’ back. I been there,” he said. 
The Pecos River in Santa Rosa is not the muddy thing it was where the Joads camped. Here its is a fine river
Your visit at the monestary is of the most fascinating nature. Thank you so much for sharing this journey. It's not so much that I am learning new things as much as it helps me to look at life out of my comfort zone.
ReplyDeleteThank you, whoever you are. It's strangely nice to have friends I don't know.
DeleteThese are exquisite, Sharon. Love the caption, "In the arms of a tree a fallen tree is held up."
ReplyDeleteI continue to appreciate your sharing of your journey as you pedal towards your destination and savor places along the way.
To savor--what a nice thought. I don't do it enough at home. Why is it different out here in the arid west New Mexico hills?
DeleteI was also interested in reading about the monastery and not talking while eating, which makes sense. It's better to
ReplyDeletefinish eating and talk all we want!
I ate in silence with the monks and wished we could talk. But I am beginning to understand the ritual of separation for society, of inward contemplation and devotion to a cause. I could not do what they do, but I want some of their inward beauty.
DeleteSharon - thank you for the wonderful photos and writing! Here's a cherita for you.
ReplyDeleteshe eats apart
from the brothers of silence
their good bread and soup
like them
she has chosen
her own journey of meditation
joyce f.
Thanks, Joyce, for the cherita of encouragement
DeleteSilence has its own voice if we but learn to listen. Perhaps the monks were carrying on in some ethereal communication and if you allowed yourself to drift to where they were communing, perhaps you would have belted out in joyous laughter, which in their earthly company could easily be misunderstood. Better, I guess that you were yearning for conversation.
ReplyDeleteThe ritual of silence while eating with people eating all around you, seems wrong. Silence is a good thing and I enjoy it often, but while eating, conversation flows more easily than any other time. I think we are made this way--silence alone, conversation while eating with others.
Deletewhile eating, yes this one agrees that conversation is 'delicious' and more delectable are the morsels because of this. Silence alone is good, but I've experienced a silence that I value highly. While sitting on the front gallery at my sister's place in Deaux Montangne outside of Montreal, she and I sat for hours,yours truly painting on stones and Blanche methodically knitting and seldom did we say a word except to comment how funny it was that our chatty selves were silenced. It was a most sacred experience. I 'do' wish you could have had the satisfaction of the word delicacies.
DeleteWhat a fine silent time that must have been.
Delete