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.

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.

grateful spark

i have had some very generous contributions to my sewing stash from friends, family, acquaintances, and freecyclers. recently my sister in law sent me a beautiful collection of treasures that had been passed down to her: vintage bias tape, ric rac, laces, and fabric. doors of creativity are opened as i figure out how to best use these lovely relics.

one day there was a topsy turvy craft session unfolding between siblings. first a hot pad loom project gone sour, and after a few wrong turns, hand prints on old paper bags came to be. we weren't necessarily thinking hand turkeys. but clearly this is what we have!

fun with friends in a blue ridge nature preserve. i love where we live!

a walk with my family. this is our neighborhood!

i am grateful for so many warm knits from my mom. hats, sweaters, ponchos, shawls, fingerless gloves, socks, we've got it all and she made it! i'm grateful for my beautiful family and how they always make me smile even when i am feeling overwhelmed by inner gloom. i'm grateful for an abundance of good food, good friends, and good times! i'm grateful for creative outlets, and all the people that encourage me to keep at it. i'm grateful for vintage fabrics passed from woman to woman to woman, for kids' creations that fill my house, for walks in the virginia countryside with friends and family. i'm grateful for babies: mine, my clients', and all the babies of the earth. they are the true expanding light of future days that we must tenderly encourage. i'm grateful for planet earth.

may your holidays be warm and full of gratitude!

considering balance as autumn equinox approaches

as much as i was holding on to summer, i have to admit, the autumn season brings a satisfying order. we are much better at organizing our days and getting out of the house, at least most of the time. and i am far more prone to focusing on crafts and walks (rather than picnics and swimming) to enliven our days. yesterday we got ourselves into our woods. 

it had been a while, really. there were changes. areas of tall grass that arose after the abundant summer rains. large fallen branches that had been precariously propped up by surrounding trees lay shattered on the forest floor. and our little "beach" and wading area along the creek had taken on a new shape altogether.

it was temperate and dry with exquisite light falling and rolling back at repeat intervals. no humidity. no rumbles of an impending storm. a great sense of ease in the outdoor world.

we gathered pods and acorns and bark and bits of forest and returned to our deck to fashion a mobile. tristan was frustrated with the project and proclaimed it "stupid," but i knew he would be pleased with the end result.

it hangs in the middle of our living room, dancing through the days with us, seeking balance as autumn equinox approaches. seeking balance, as we all must.

it makes tristan jump with joy!

all the beautiful back lighting (and living room clutter) made it very difficult to photograph! 

inspiration was found here.

i really love how it is a constant reminder of the need for balance. i hope to bring my family relationships, home life, and creativity back into balance this autumn season. summer was full of distraction and distance, even though we were all very close together much of the time. autumn is the season to gather together, to collect the autumn harvest, to cook, create, feast, and celebrate. and my mother is moving here from michigan! i look forward to each of these days, the opening of the busy but productive field. 

what do you hope to bring in balance as the equinox approaches? 

as the light balances with the dark, it is an amazing opportunity to adjust your intentions!