a warm spot

we've had a break from the intensely cold weather, and then the rain, these last couple of days. today was not the brightest of days, but it was perfectly pleasant, a good day to experiment with the camera on my new iphone. we romped in the woods and visited our favorite spots, something we haven't done in a while. the cedar grove. the tree bench. the creek. the realm of the fallen tree. our yard in general. tristan chalked on the driveway and cruised around on his balance bike while i gathered fallen branches and swept out the garage. and then we retreated to the indoors, just at twilight, for a snack of carrots and freshly baked biscotti. it was a good day of playing, and baking, and exploring with my little cherub. the kind of day i treasure and feel very good about when we exchange the last hug before sleep. 

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! 

homeplace

it was wednesday morning and the day opened wide before us. it wasn't a work day, or a preschool day, there were no appointments or pre-arrangements, not even errands. 

part of me felt like i had to, i should, DO something. i really should go to the swimming pool we are lucky enough to be members of through dan's job. or we should go to the library and bring home a new crop of stories. that i should just get tristan out of the house and go. 

but another part of me really didn't want to be elsewhere.  so i stepped out to water the garden, and our day began.

  

 

while the deer ate the heads off of most of the black eyed susans that volunteered themselves in our yard, a few have survived and are beginning to open.

  

and these littles. so sweet.

 

i don't know what these orange flowers are, but they are bright and fabulous!

while it may be getting late for planting, i had some organic potatoes that were sprouting, so decided to create an all new potato patch. tristan helped work the soil. we scooped two buckets of compost from the bin and he helped me pour it. he hopped on and off his balance bike, picked up worms, pointed out interesting rocks, and asked confounding questions. 

we planted our potatoes in the soft soil and felt satisfied.

 

 we really did so well, cohabitating the outdoors. he played and sometimes helped me. we conversed from one end of the yard to the other. there were no demands or upsets. we were both out there enjoying being out there, hot though it was!

tristan and luna even had a special companionship going. the cats are sometimes wary of this unpredictable bundle of boy, but today luna hung by his side, and he treated her with a curious gentleness.

i found the gardenia blooming. and then got to work removing some of the invasive trees growing around it, and all along our deck, taking energy away from the blueberries and still unidentified blossoming bushes.

we were pretty hot after mucking around in the yard all morning, so had an icy cold seat in the freshly filled wading pool. welcome to club cedar.

by midday we retreated indoors, had some lunch, and followed it with a blueberry banana cake. so delicious, especially with a little butter while warm.

we were finally feeling ready for a late afternoon visit to the pool, when the storms starting rolling in. so we remained at home the entire day.

and i finished someones lap quilt. three months exactly after his birthday. 

after the rain

we took a walk this evening. tristan finds mud and damp stressful these days, so a walk to the creek after the rain perhaps wasn't the brightest idea. but he too is a little unpredictable, and usually loves his visits to the creek. so we strolled down into our patch woods, eager to check out the water after a day's rains. forwards and backwards we walked. the stream had a rare and beautiful song, which lightened slightly all the grumping that was unfolding. and the pools were deeper, though opaque and agitated, connected by pretty little sand bars. the walk ended where it began, back in our yard, where the mist fomented between trees, and the happy plants stood belly full of drink.