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.

Thursday, February 04, 2016

winter runs off


one of the benefits of having a dog is that she forces you outside. 

even on damp and gloomy days when you would prefer to sit under a blanket 
with a steaming beverage, the dog must evacuate. 

so you go bravely into the great grey melt down.


the sound of running water fills our woodsy hamlet. water raining down, dripping from trees, rushing in streams that are usually silent and dry.


our creek is generally naught but a trickle with a few stagnant pools. 

today it is a tumbling drunk choir, adorned in stunning little waterfalls, 
a bold brook rather than a shy stream. tributaries are swollen with purpose, 
mountain quartz flirting through rivulets and moss.



imbolg entered in a moody shroud of rain water, holding her flaming torch high, 
melting the snows, shedding light on an impending season, 
and offering a bright promise of regeneration.



Thursday, January 28, 2016

New Year New Frontier


January slipped into a Midwestern pub with snow on her shoes, a sweaty pint of craft beer, and a rock and roll band. 

She was surrounded by love too.


The midnight hour was a collection of reflections in dew, strumming & keys, should do's and might haves and gratitude and apprehensions and absences, wishes written on steam. 

Stream of song and string lights dancing into a next day called 2016.


And then a lot of things happened. More things to add to the things happening already. 

Things like our car's engine shaft suddenly snapping on a busy highway in West Virginia as we drove home from our holiday in Wisconsin. My awesome job suddenly snapping out from under me in a lay off my first day back from holiday. And the following day, my mom admitted into the hospital for the third time in as many weeks. 



Our car was fixed, mostly, and at great expense.

My mom was discharged from the hospital after a week of chemo treatment. She is feeling considerably better still.

And that job, well, there is no fix. Very simply, it is gone.



I have been laid off once before. 

I was in my late 20's, working for a music agency in San Francisco, expected to lie to the legendary Mavis Staples over the phone about her next paycheck. 

It was a pretty rotten job and I was quite relieved to be sprung from it.


I loved my most recent occupation of three years. I learned a lot and looked forward to each day. It was a great outlet for my creativity. It was a crafty company with talented co-workers. My boss was very flexible about the demands of my other jobs as mother, doula, AND daughter to an aging parent. It was a fine fit in so very many ways. 

I didn't think I would be there forever, but I also didn't expect it to end so soon. 

Unlike the music industry job, there was no sense of relief when I was let go.

Just the stages of grief.


And snowfall. Almost 20 inches in two days. 

A blank slate on which to etch a fresh story, a deep space of soft landings, a powdery  shapelessness followed by growing solidification, an invitation to tumble and trundle

Now emerging from sooty slush and slippery black ice, there are clear surfaces in sight and windows of opportunity reflecting light. 

A full moon wanes into darkness and stirs new life. Gestation anticipates fruition. Tributaries fatten with run off as roots tingle. We witness the big tease of thaw & freeze flirting.

Imbolc approaches and it is time to fire up every last 
candle so that nothing is left but new beginnings.

Monday, November 30, 2015

In and Out of the Woods

Sadly, it's been almost five months since I last posted here. 

So I thought, tonight — yes, tonight — I will share some photos from our walk with Skye earlier.


They are not great photos, snapped with my now outdated cell phone. But a little bit of something from our world, to share with you, after a too long absence.

This afternoon Tashi took Tristan to see the Peanuts movie, a sweet outing for an older and younger sibling. And while they were gone Dan and I went bush whacking, following our little creek as far as we could manage, before dusk started to settle in. 


Dangling above a deep(ish) pool


Skye is onto something in that hole


Sweet and Stubborn


She scrambled up the embankment and liked it so much up there, refused to come back down


Until she heard movement 


And was ready to continue the romp


Fungus spotting in our woods


Variety


And more variety


Ever onward through the brush and bramble


Mama's best friends!


I somehow can't resist talking to my dog with an irritating high pitched voice of affection

A walk in our woods is such an accessible journey into the primeval world


A satisfying metaphor for the ups and downs of daily life


Back home, the kids returned from their movie


We ate dinner around the wood stove in a final salute to our extended Thanksgiving holiday