while everything else continues, unexplained and unexplainable

What is there beyond knowing that keeps calling to me?

I can't turn in any direction but its there. 

I don't mean the leaves' grip and shine or even the thrush's

silk song,  but the far off fires,

for example,  or the stars, heaven's slowly turning theater of light,

or the wind playful with its breath;

or time that's always rushing forward,or standing still 

in the same - what shall I say - moment.

What I know I could put into a pack as if it were bread and cheese,

and carry it on one shoulder, important and honourable, but so small!

While everything else continues, unexplained and unexplainable.

How wonderful it is to follow a thought quietly to its logical end.

I have done this a few times.

But mostly, I just stand in the dark field in the middle of the world, breathing in and out.

Life so far doesn't have any other name but breath and light, wind and rain.

If there's a temple, I haven't found it yet.

I simply go on drifting,

In the heaven of the grass and the weeds.

What is there beyond knowing, by Mary Oliver 

from New and Selected Poems volume two published 2005

These images are from the road trip through northern and mid Western Wales that Ned and I did the second week of August.  

All of them were taken from the passenger seat of a moving vehicle by me.  

We enjoyed this trip together very much.

The feeling of being with him in the middle of this fairy world

will stay with me for a long time and I am grateful.