Today I am reading about flowersamong other thingswhich to meseemsthe perfect thing for late January for several years we have been inching our waytowardsun-lawningthe sort of unnatural, obsessive, artificialbeautification ofspaceslooking more toward justenjoyingthe marvelous wonder ofwild things and always I…
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Morning, December 23rdthe fan in the bedroomabove the bedbeginsa tinysqueak… and I am awake with thoughtsofthingsto be accomplished tis the season of wondersnot least of allfor a Momand one whose feeble attemptswill always beto keep the magicin Christmas and this…
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Last week begins,anxiety highand I can feel it on the insideif I am stillit pullsand it churns like one of thosebingo things that tumbles the ballswith numbers on themit is worry for thingsunknownfor my kids, and for thingsIhaven’t donefor things…
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It’s all in the waythat it shines through leavessome justbarely hanging on by athread makes them shimmyever so slightly even when skies to the northbeginin adark, dark grey while from this sideit comes in, in streamsof gold makes things lessdreary,…
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Ooof,and so it begins… One of many mornings to come,when I will exclaim to my husbandor really,to the dayin my froggy morning voice What fresh hell is this…(deep bow to Dorothy Parker) somehow overnight the world outside my windowturned intoa…
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Seems to me,that the light of October isa special kindof light makes everything rathergolden holds its own kind of magic noticing… last week I had two fingers fitted for splintsin hopes of keeping themmobileand this week, after trying to work…
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“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.” ~ Herman Melville To love the…
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Can you possibly imaginea gentler sky… to accompany a silent(although never so)morning’s meditation in the gardena walk under billowy puffs of cottonever so slowlyclosingin the morning feels as though I am notas far out of theditch I’ve been travellingas I…
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It is enoughto stand in the gardenunder overcast skies, heavily cloaked ina pale, palegrey still moving absolutely nothingbutone’s eyesslowly taking in each sightthe delicate and theboldbreathing deeply (as one can)and wondering if it is possible totune inand hearthe bees gathering…
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When the goldenrod begins to bloomand the hummingbird trafficincreasesthe sunmoves over just a little morein the skyand the sugar maples start boldly in toblushwhen yellow-jackets take a keen interestin each and every movementand apples begin a slightrosy-ing up one hesitates…
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