Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Grateful May

What a sweet day. The sun was out. Like, ALL day. This has been a rare thing around here. May is the new April. Wet, grey, sweater weather. But not today. 

The first thing I did after work was go and watch the first grade play, Jack and his Comrades, an Irish version of the Bremen Town Musicians. It certainly was lively. And full of such very sweet songs.  Tristan was a donkey today.


After a celebratory ice cream cone on the downtown mall, we picked up Dan and Skye and went on an impromptu hike on O-Hill. Danskos are not ideal hiking shoes, so we kept it short, but it was still a delicious taste of mossy rocks, big trees, filtered sunlight, and exercise.

(all photos to follow were taken with my outdated cell phone)
After our romp we went to Moe's Barbecue for dinner, as I had won a gift certificate. It was tasty and there was an unexpected selection of special sides, like Albita beer bread, squash casserole, and tomato cucumber salad. The fresh Coleslaw was really good too. I went for the pulled pork, which was fresh and not full of fat. Dan had the fried catfish, quite breaded but really tasty as well.

Once we got home we continued our romp in the sweet weather. Skye will not rest until she spends some time in her creek, so Tristan and I wandered down there with her. It was a good opportunity to examine some of the new blooms around us.


These are a couple of pictures of Skye at our very favorite Chris Greene Lake Dog Park. 
We went the other day in another rare moment of sunshine. The lake was mirror still,
a stunning sight to behold.




While the gloomy weather has been difficult to endure, it sure makes one value the stretches of sun. I think we've had a very nutritious dose of precipitation, but may bright days of warmth take hold, calling us out into the verdant world and a playful season.


What do you do when the sun comes out?

Friday, May 13, 2016

may i have a moment?


my eye seeks beauty. but sometimes the darkness in my mind is a shade. sometimes my busy mind lacks focus. sometimes i see the beauty but move on so quickly that the bright moment slips away. i blog, snap photos, write poems to capture the fleeting moments of clarity. beautiful moments. profound moments. and troubling moments that give me pause. 


it is strange sometimes how long the scrim stays in place and i can't quite find the path to the words or focal points. the scrim itself can be beautiful. an intricate tapestry, fragile scarf, old worn bed sheet. in my landscape of sight and thought, even what is most difficult is most beautiful. the contrast of good and bad forces one to think. and the ability to think is a gift.


almost two months since my last blog entry i'm parting the scrim for a moment to consider the days — a boy turns seven. a shepherd is walked daily. spring break unfolds followed by a prom. more chemo for my mom. a college decision after lots of indecision. a craft fair, choir concert, spring carnival, art show, soccer game. a date or two with my love. his birthday. a birth series. some showers. cars broken and breaking. rain. rain. and more rain. spring cleaning. sore throats. sneezes. taking care. care taking. and a job that is still so new. lots of preoccupation. not much meditation. an impending graduation. and the arrival of babies who populate the universe with blossoms. 


i am always so happy when i'm given the gift of a slow day. i can watch the birds. go on a long walk. see insects rise from flowers. think about the long term. and capture those sharp, bright, clear moments. i'm so happy that today, the rain came. the rain went. and the sun finally appeared and affirmed that the light, in fact, does return.




Friday, March 25, 2016

march on

just a bit of a visual post as this month has mostly been about observing. observing the changes, the flourishing, the wheel turning, the new, and the old. 

 first the daffodils and cherry blossoms, the apple blossoms and pear. now the red bud and forsythia, camellia, and tulips.
 the grass, the moss, the woodland weeds are all greening while the remaining islands of dead autumn leaves glare up at me and say, push me aside and let new life grow!


turning a fresh new leaf in my emotions as well with my unemployment ending 
sooner than  expected in early march as i landed a part time communications job at 
an awesome local nonprofit
 while i miss the creativity i had in my former job as product photographer, i don't miss it half as much as i thought i would. that whole experience feels a bit like fugue state. i am very excited to be in a bright new supportive environment where the mission for good has a clear and obvious impact. i am facing the new frontier from the other side of the lens and i know it will make my vision sharper. 
and so i am observing, learning, listening, testing, flowing, spinning, and carefully stepping along this new path, pushing old dead leaves aside, ready for bright new growth.

Thursday, March 03, 2016

march in

it is that unpredictable time of year when you don't know whether to pull on a t-shirt or turtleneck,  when you might be showered with rain, snow, or a sunny spring warmth.


earlier in the week we were gifted with sweet seasonal comfort, coupled with the growing light, allowing more outdoor time after tristan's school day.


every time we wander through the woods around our home i feel fortunate. and when the little creek has a healthy flow of water, even more so.





so much inspiration for the sketch pad 


there are always great discoveries when we march around in the woods. sometimes it's the clearest bits of quartz, a rusty old truck, a certain grove or land formation that makes the perfect fort, fish in the creek, feathers, bits of nature art. 

and always there are bones.







sometimes you walk as the dog walks, ducking under branches, skipping around thorns, splashing through the creek, and navigating fallen trees.

sometimes she gets very impatient with you as you stop to study something with your camera.





while i would welcome one more snow fall, i'm looking forward to the ease of slipping outside without jackets and hats, ready to explore the emerging season.