Visitors 31
Modified 18-Jun-25
Created 18-Jun-25
27 photos
Dropping into Tassajara
May 2025
Dusty road descends,
Jagged peaks thrust upwards.
Thin green growing skin
Over jumbled geology,
Ancient forces active still:
Seabed deposits, buried beneath miles of rock,
Baked, squeezed, transformed;
Rising, overburden stripped away,
Stretched into sharp ridges by do-si-do of massive tectonic plates,
Breathing sunlight and warm breezes once again.
Exuberance of plants blesses ancient rock:
Flowers: Ocean Spray, Indian Paintbrush,
Showy Sticky Monkeyflower.
Dusty road proceeds
Past twisted rock and showy flower,
Down toward cool water, to welcoming shade.
Come to refuge.
Welcome home.
Buddha awaits.
Returning to Tassajara after a long absence, I am drawn downstream, along the creek. Clear water tickles ancient boulders. Reflections of sunlit trees are twisted into crazy abstract patterns. I watch water flow past a boulder: happy chaotic dance in the instant; persistent flow longer term.
There is a path. Zigzagging upwards, deep forest opening to sunlit flowers, bees, butterflies. Then a simple memorial to the founder of Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, the founder of a strong Zen lineage, the one who brought this practice to a new land.
Beyond the memorial: dry hillside, grassland, ridgeline. More flowers, insects dancing in the open sun. Vistas of surrounding ridges, waterfall, creek. Rude trail, circling back to the creek upstream: here, calm waters reflect dawn light. In the creek valley, Yerba Santa rests in shade. Then wind-caressed creek waters dance in light, bringing forth complex patterns, hiding suspended fish.
Centered in this peaceful setting, we gather for a poetry workshop. Old hands and new join the loving circle – all are welcome. Paul and Naomi provide space and support. Everyone is a beginner. Everyone is experienced.
The following galleries are organized by subject matter.
May 2025
Dusty road descends,
Jagged peaks thrust upwards.
Thin green growing skin
Over jumbled geology,
Ancient forces active still:
Seabed deposits, buried beneath miles of rock,
Baked, squeezed, transformed;
Rising, overburden stripped away,
Stretched into sharp ridges by do-si-do of massive tectonic plates,
Breathing sunlight and warm breezes once again.
Exuberance of plants blesses ancient rock:
Flowers: Ocean Spray, Indian Paintbrush,
Showy Sticky Monkeyflower.
Dusty road proceeds
Past twisted rock and showy flower,
Down toward cool water, to welcoming shade.
Come to refuge.
Welcome home.
Buddha awaits.
Returning to Tassajara after a long absence, I am drawn downstream, along the creek. Clear water tickles ancient boulders. Reflections of sunlit trees are twisted into crazy abstract patterns. I watch water flow past a boulder: happy chaotic dance in the instant; persistent flow longer term.
There is a path. Zigzagging upwards, deep forest opening to sunlit flowers, bees, butterflies. Then a simple memorial to the founder of Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, the founder of a strong Zen lineage, the one who brought this practice to a new land.
Beyond the memorial: dry hillside, grassland, ridgeline. More flowers, insects dancing in the open sun. Vistas of surrounding ridges, waterfall, creek. Rude trail, circling back to the creek upstream: here, calm waters reflect dawn light. In the creek valley, Yerba Santa rests in shade. Then wind-caressed creek waters dance in light, bringing forth complex patterns, hiding suspended fish.
Centered in this peaceful setting, we gather for a poetry workshop. Old hands and new join the loving circle – all are welcome. Paul and Naomi provide space and support. Everyone is a beginner. Everyone is experienced.
The following galleries are organized by subject matter.
Dan Quinn