1. this cloud!

the cloud could be ominous or hopeful, depending on the light.

2. this snail!

i was trying to make a rosetta, not a snail, but when i saw the snail, i was over the moon delighted.

3. this light!

the pup & i just happened to be on our trail during golden hour. i couldn’t get over the light.

4. these baby trees!

baby white pines, to be specific. don’t they look soft & fuzzy?

5. this creation!

after asking the woods for an offering, i found a piece of curly birch bark that reminded me of a slightly abstract figure. when i added another piece of birch bark and some moss, it reminded me of kokopelli.

in other smile-related news, it is snowing today. i decided that i like snow in mid-may; it’s quirky.

so, what made you smile recently? i’d love to hear.

yesterday was an 80 degree day – possibly the last in a stretch of warm & sunny days for a while. i thought about taking atlas for a hike, but didn’t really feel up to hiking. (i lost my breath while in providence and it isn’t quite back yet.) besides, do you know what atlas likes to do on an 80 degree day? he likes to lie in the sun until he’s hot, then lie in the shade until he’s cool, then repeat repeat repeat.

instead of hiking, i took a pail of carrots and a vegetable peeler out to the picnic table. when i was finished, i sat on the ground in the sunshine.

i listened to the chirp of the birds & the hollow roar of the wind through the pines behind me. i watched brown leaves & white pollen & a black & yellow striped bumblebee fly past me. i scrunched my toes in the grass & felt the earth beneath my seat. i drank ice water with tiny flecks of dirt in it. i felt the wind in my hair & the sunshine on my face.

while i sat there, i thought about conversations i’ve had in which people tell me that they want to [insert something that involves doing very little] but they should make the most of the nice weather.

i decided that as far as i was concerned, i was absolutely positively making the most of the nice weather. i suspect atlas would agree.

a tiny nephew & small niece were here for two weeks, and a tiny niece & small nephew joined them for part of it. needless to say, my time has been occupied. they are all gone now, but they left me with memories and a rather awful cold-flu-what-have-you bug.

if you’re wondering what i’m like when i’m under the weather, here is a story for you.

when i was ill last winter, my mother told me that when someone else is sick, she feels sympathy pains. i asked her if she wanted me to tell her how i felt, so she would know if she was feeling sympathy pains for me. “oh no,” she said. “you have been very explicit. i know exactly how you feel.”

i suppose it’s a good thing for everyone that i am generally well.

still, all is well. we are in the midst of a frigid spell, so it’s a good day to stay indoors. i have hot water with lemon & honey, two unread library books, a sweet pup, and there is a sunny spot in the living room that is calling my name.

i leave you with a wish for sunshine + love + warmth.

may you be well.

i have a gratitude journal on my iphone. every night before bed, i write (type) a list of tiny moments of gratitude.

like the sunlight reflected by the stained glass window that reminded me of a rainbow-edged wing.

or the miniature acorns that were hanging on a snow-covered evergreen as if they were nature’s own christmas ornaments.

or my first (and so far, only) latte art heart.

or the snowflake trail i found in one of my photos after an afternoon spent watching fat fluffy snowflakes fall to the ground while atlas tried to follow the scent of a rabbit.

i like the act of collecting these moments.

they remind me that a simple life can be full + rich + wondrous. even when my mind tries to convince me otherwise.

for my atlas pup, my family, my friends;
for kindhearted strangers;
for snow-covered pines, wild apples, autumn leaves, wildflowers;
for a roof over my head and food on my plate;
for capsule wardrobes, plaid scarves & fedoras;
for lilacs, cranberry bogs, clover, daisies;
for lake superior;
for clotheslines and gardens;
for savannah, benjamin, lars, lily, andrew, brady & sam;
for lattes, ice cream cones & homemade pie;
for lavender + pale pink sunrises and heart-shaped rocks;
for my four niece-kitties;
for warm smiles via skype, long hugs & even longer conversations with old + new friends;
for postcards in the mail and real life shared;
for toes in the sand, snowshoe hikes & icy dips in the lake;
for bonfires on the beach and sunday afternoon games;
for the northern lights, the milky way & orion;
for owl feathers, shed antlers, baby foxes, dragonflies;
for farkle, fantasy books & candy crush;
for a blue jay named fred and a chainsaw bear named buddy;
for yin yoga, snow scoops, squats, hilly trails;
for unexpected moments of delight, wordless truths & finding yourself where you are;
for bravery, truth, trust, surrender;
for wisdom, inspiration, compassion, peace, beauty & wonder;
for love – in all its forms;
for you;
and for so much more.

i am thankful.

dear friend,

hello. how are you? is it winter where you are?

here, the world is white. it’s been snowing for two weeks and there is probably three and a half feet of snow on the ground already. it is somewhat unbelievable. yesterday, i shoveled a path to the shed and retrieved my snowshoes; i am really looking forward to using them. (i was trying to get to the garden to pick my last two bunches of kale. when i realized how deep the kale was buried, i turned away from the garden and toward the shed.)

these days, i am delighting in the unexpected. i read one of my poems at an open-mic poetry reading. (i felt brave. even though the poem made me cry.) then, atlas ran through the deep snow – over & over & over. (last year, he refused.) then, i was hired unexpectedly by a local cafe & am now training to become a barista. (it is seriously the most fun thing ever.) then, i gave my nephew lars a glimpse of my digital photo albums & he gave me the most enthusiastic praise ever. (BRIDGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

you know what i’ve been thinking about lately? truth and art and fiction. i like to find my truths, and sometimes i like to share them, but i’ve been wondering if the deepest truths are wordless – at least in a literal sense – and can only be expressed in feeling or image or metaphor or story. i started thinking about this when i gathered up a handful of my favorite story club stories to create a sampler. sharing it was one of the hardest things i’ve done thus far. upon reflection, i realized that it was because the stories give you a glimpse of me – the deeper me, the magical me, the me i don’t really know how to share at all. i didn’t realize this until i read them all together. the same is true of poetry; somehow it helps me convey the ineffable. i wonder if it’s because the deepest truths are qualities – a glimpse, a reminder of who we really really are.

i wish we could sit down together, perhaps with coffee and pie. i want to listen to your stories, and feel your truths, and convey just how wonder~full you are.

xo

p.s. i know. this is not a photo of winter. i am remembering the glory of autumn, for just a little while.

’tis true. we had snow. (i remember many a halloween that featured a snowsuit on top of my halloween costume. oh, the memories.)

well, we had snow. most of it melted already.

it was pretty! but i have decided it can wait to return until thanksgiving.

atlas agrees. whole-heartedly.

as i scanned the wooden tables at the farm stand, looking for peaches, i saw two brown baskets full of plums. their color drew me in.

i picked a plum from the basket. it was firm, oval in size, smaller than the plums at the supermarket, cold to the touch, and wet from the rain. i looked at that reddish purple plum, and i found it more pleasing to my eye than the orange peaches & pumpkins, the red nectarines & tomatoes & peppers & apples, the green peppers & corn & butternut squashes, the yellow acorn squashes.

that was today.

last week, i looked at the reds – the tomatoes & apples, their color dulled a little by the bright sun – and i found them most pleasing.

the wild apple must be a distant cousin of the lilac. in their respective seasons, they each grow in profusion here in the keweenaw peninsula.

it is now wild apple season and i try an apple from every tree i pass. as thoreau said, “what is sour in the house a bracing walk makes sweet. some of these apples might be labeled, ‘to be eaten in the wind.'”

there are many sour apples, to be sure. but every so often, i find a tree with apples that are perfect for pies or crumbles or just-plain-eating.

i love treasure hunting. in my case, that treasure is often feathers.

last year, a friend mentioned that she was gifted an owl feather. for a second, i imagined how fun it would be to find one. months later, i was hiking with the pup at a nearby state park – 2000 miles away from my friend and her feather – when i glanced down and saw the most beautiful feather.

after a thorough review of the feather atlas, i determined that the feather belonged to a great horned owl. so, my wish-in-passing came true. i found an owl feather! i am still over-the-moon delighted by this.

i created a vignette with my owl feather and my other michigan treasures.

there is a shed antler, found by my dad years ago and given to me when i found it in a box in the basement, exclaimed over it, and asked for it. (atlas doesn’t care about antlers in the store, but he is fascinated by this antler.)

there is a circle of birch bark, found by me in the woods. (it’s around my favorite candle, which i bought in portland and which smells like a candy cane. exactly like a candy cane. i can sniff it for hours.)

and there is a heart in a walnut shell, found by me in my grandparents’ yard when i was raking this spring.

i thought nothing could top my owl feather.

until i found this.

i was sitting in the passenger seat, on my way to a camp in jacobsville with a sister, when a feather on a gravel road caught my eye as we drove by.

when i exclaimed over the size of the feather, my sister turned around and we drove back over the road slowly, looking for it. it wasn’t there. sadly, i told her she could turn around. but when she did, i saw the feather up ahead, and this time i jumped out and grabbed it.

after another thorough review of the feather atlas, i determined that this feather belonged to a wild turkey. coincidentally, two wild turkeys had crossed the road in front of us en route to jacobsville.

next, i would like to find a cardinal feather.

i saw a cardinal – in rhode island – so i think the feather must be on its way.

do you keep an eye out for treasures?

what are yours?