Snow changes the shape of everything. A dead tree trunk suddenly turns whimsical with it’s snowy cap, Stones gain mysterious windows and low stumps take on the shape of dunes. Not to forget the loveliness of a few random snow doughnuts!
The moment night shifts to day
dark to light
breath to no breath
sits a point
take time to listen
and in the listening
a most subtle tone
now a symphony
than the sweetest sound
sit quietly and find how
the cracks in these cavernous walls
reveal the key to your happiness
The key to my heart is in your hands
You dance and I become still
Forever waiting for your words
To break the silence
For it is in knowing yourself
That you know me
In all my varied coats
Technicolor, paisley and plain blue
A beacon to welcome you
In this darkest of realms
Where the rules have not been written
(and never will be)
leaves past their prime
trunks stripped of fashion
continue reaching skyward
Not caring if anyone sees
these vulnerable gestures
imprinted on solid sky
Unwilling to surrender
to gravity or axe
September 15, 2014, crescent moon, full tide
Allie wipes her hands on the turpentine soaked rag, the pungent smell of pine stings her nostrils. She dips her brush in, mesmerized by the swirling varnish spiral dissolving into these spirits. Stepping back, she gives the hull a once over, lap-straight lines drawing together in a slow curve to the bow. Lustrous varnish enhancing rich walnut wood grain. This seventh coat of varnish destined to hold up to bleaching sun and salt for at least the next six months.
My favorite part of Autumn is witnessing the graceful fall of leaves. It’s as if each leaf takes a turn on stage, and with a gentle twist or graceful pirouette shows us how to dance on air.
So many leaves, so much color! The Red Trail has many mini ecosystems, and each has its own coloring.
Two swans feed in the winter bay. Diving in tandem, moving so gracefully, then comically sending their tails to the sky. So easily paired and so at ease with the task of feeding.
Soft waves reveal a treasured glimpse of the bay floor. Shallow waters magnify the colorful display of pebbles and shells – making them appear magnificent for a moment, then back to pebble size with the next passing wave.
An empty conch shell precariously upended at bay’s edge, tipped over with each wave like a chalice offering communion back to the sea.
A graceful act, but it’s the upending of the thing that captures my attention today. Exposed, momentarily unstable, yet playful in it’s willingness to be pushed and pulled by the pulse of tide.
Much like the feeding swans, so relaxed in their search for food, with no concern for the bobbing, vulnerable nature of their airborne tails.
It’s a bit like us – diving for nourishment, coming up for air, then taking comfort for a few spare moments in the presence of another.
I’ve never been a fan of the somber days of Autumn, but golden light filtered through yellow leaves sways me in the direction of love.
I’ll do my best to capture it’s full glory over the next few weeks. For now, here’s a view from my favorite quiet space on the Red Trail.
Gems from local gardeners (save the plum). I hope to make a painting based on this photo someday soon.
I hope you’re enjoying your local harvest. I’ve been thrilled to eat fresh, organic, lovingly grown veggies from Evan’s Food For Beings CSA. Wow!
Gorgeous ceramic bowl made by Matt Hyleck.