sometimes i think i am a totally wrong person to tell you about life near the wild, because i am not at home in the wild.

i like my creature comforts and have gone on exactly one backpacking trip. i once spent an interminably long night in a tent absolutely convinced that a raccoon was outside, about to claw its way into the tent and kill atlas, only to discover in the morning that it was a bird. i have no sense of direction; i can be trusted to go exactly the wrong way when following a map; and compasses confuse me. my dad has a degree in forestry and i have a phenomenal memory and yet i can never remember any of his wisdom about plants + trees. i know very little about animals. i am not quiet on my feet in the woods; i can probably be heard for miles. i tried my hand at wildcrafting last fall, gathering clover to make a steeped tea, only to discover that if i had made + drunk it, i probably would have gotten sick because apparently you can’t use wet clover. i do not like to pee in the woods. i have no interest in hunting. i caught one tiny fish in my life and it wriggled so much that it freaked me out and i had to run upstream, dipping the fish in the water every few steps, to find my brother so he could take the poor fish off the hook for me.

and yet, here i am, where the wild things are.

i love it here. i always have.

last week, i watched fox cubs pounce on one another like puppies.
the week before, i heard wolves howling in the early evening.
today, i watched the white tail of a deer as it bounded away from us.

i want to tell you about the wild because it is full of wisdom and full of wonder. when you’re surrounded by traffic & buildings & busyness & noise, sometimes it’s easy to forget this.

but the wild is our ancestral home, and we all have a wildness within us.

in my head, i have a long litany of atlas stories, so i thought i would share a few of them with you. i am feeling very tender toward him today because last night, he had an episode that was possibly/probably a seizure. he is fine now, but it reminded me that it is good to love him extra-hard, while he is here in the world with me.

blow, atlas, blow.

savannah likes to incorporate atlas into her bubble play.

she puts the bubble wand in front of atlas’s nose and says, “blow, atlas, blow”. sometimes, he ignores her. sometimes, he lifts his head up, looks at the wand, licks it, then licks his lips with a very puzzled expression. i imagine he is wondering why she’s offering him something that is clearly not edible.

she also likes to blow bubbles “at his toes!” or “at his head!”

pee on the snow.

atlas started peeing in the front yard. i think it’s because it’s the only place with grass.

my mom said no – that section of grass needs all the help it can get. the cars are parked there in the winter, to stay out of the way of the plow, so the grass never really grows.

whenever atlas tries to pee in the yard and i say no, he walks across the road and clambers to the top of the snowbank. with the recent warm weather, the snow is extremely soft. one night, mid-stream, he tried to move his foot to re-adjust, and sank down into the snow while he was peeing.

it was hilarious. as is the sight of him peeing on the top of a snowbank at all.

atlas smells the wild.

the windows in my room are almost always open. one night, i woke up in the wee hours to find the smell of skunk wafting through the open windows.

atlas popped out of bed and delightedly sniff-sniff-sniffed away. he wanted to go outside.

i most definitely did not.

however, i couldn’t be sure that he didn’t also want to go outside because he needed a potty run, so i finally brought him outside anyway, putting him on a leash and peeking out the door before i opened it.

atlas did not appreciate the leash. how could he find the delightful smelly creature with me attached? i, on the other hand, was pretty sure that if he had found it, he would have escaped unscathed while i wound up getting sprayed, so i did not feel remorseful about the leash at all.

the climb.

after the snow went through some rounds of thawing and freezing, there was a reasonably solid crust. atlas could walk on it without sinking too deeply or too often, so he started following his nose into the snow.

there is a hill (two plus houses high) near my house. we call it the dirt hill and it was the scene of many youthful adventures.

atlas and i were out for a walk one day when he caught a scent near the hill, clambered up the snowbank, and started climbing up the snow-covered hill. every few feet, he stopped and looked back at me, a very pleased expression on his face. i cheered him on happily. (i tried to go too, but when i sank to my knees in the snow, i turned around.) he finally crested the top and disappeared.

eventually, he came back. when he finally reached the road, he looked so delighted with himself and his adventure.

oh, dogs. aren’t they wonderful!

they are so good at taking the simplest things in life and turning them into a joyful adventure.

my little savannah is here for a visit. needless to say, i am preoccupied with bubbles and watercolor paints and snowballs.

(she is constantly giving atlas hugs. he tolerates them nicely. i, of course, think it’s pretty much the most adorable thing ever, since savannah and atlas are two of my favorite things. today, she wanted to comb his hair and put clips in it, but i explained that his short hair would make it almost impossible.)

but oh, have i been finding the goodness on the web these days.

i thought i would share some of my findings with you.

• a miniature magical world of snails from ukranian nature photographer vyacheslav mishchenko.
• a lyrical + beautiful + sad piece by natalie diaz on love and the mojave language.
• a food blog, local milk, with what is quite possibly the most gorgeous food photography i’ve ever seen. (like this red velvet beet cake. seriously. the photos are the very definition of sensual.)
• a courageous + vulnerable piece by melody ross on showing up, just as you are.
• and for lovers of myth & legend, there is this: gods for the modern age.

last weekend, i decided i needed more fun in my life.

even after a conversation with a friend, i was a little confused on how to go about it.

just then, savannah walked in.

so today, i am wishing you moments of laugh-out-loud delight.

because children are so good at reminding me of both the ease and the importance of it.

i am enjoying photos of my beloved lake. soon, it will be blue again. i was hoping there would be green grass and tulips by my birthday but i suspect it is unlikely. on the bright side, it is 40 degrees today. i could wear shorts and a t-shirt, but the reflection of the sun on the snow would turn my white legs red. also, i am thinking of others; the glare of the sun on my white legs might blind oncoming traffic. when i was young, i would lie on the front porch on days like this (in my swimsuit, no less) to get a head start on my tan.

there was a box in the basement labeled “joe’s bones”. joe is my (very much alive) brother, so i am still giggling at the label. maybe it’s just me. anyway, the box was full of skulls and bones that joe and my dad found over the years, including the most beautiful deer antler. it took some begging, but the deer antler is now mine. it makes a gorgeous paperweight and constantly delights me. soon, atlas and i will hunt for our own shed antlers. antlers are sold as higher-priced dog chews, so these will really be for atlas. (he was more intrigued by this antler than he ever was by the ones in the store; maybe it still has the scent of the wild.)

my lips no longer need moisturizer! i am quite delighted by this. i used to (need to) apply it a million times a day. when my lip moisturizer ran out this winter, i was only driving on blue sky days so couldn’t replenish it immediately. while i was waiting for good weather, i started to wonder if not using it was actually more normal than using it, so i decided not to buy any more. there was a horrible period of withdrawal but eventually my lips normalized. if i want to use something now, i use ghee. (atlas loves this. he licks his lips whenever i put it on.) apparently there are products in most lip moisturizers that strip the lips of their protective coating. also, did you know that petroleum jelly and petrolatum are oil byproducts. i put them on my lips! i find this both fascinating + disturbing.

there is room for three more people to receive postcards from atlas. if you were thinking about it ~ for yourself, for an elderly house-bound relative, for a beloved child who would love their very own mail ~ now is the time to join in! it is going to be full of joy.

i just read the loveliest post from photographer~writer~soul-searcher fiona on catching the small joys and letting them radiate out into life.

it inspired me to begin a new journal, and aligns with what i think about when i think about beauty.

for now, some recent moments of joy + beauty.

shared + tear-filled laughter.

spotting a snow rabbit with twig-whiskers on top of a giant snowbank.

peeling apples for crumble and watching the long curly red apple peels fall into the garbage.

the pale-pink sky at sunrise.

the way atlas appropriates the process of towel-drying for his own pleasure by sticking his head into the towel over and over so i’ll continue to rub his head.

an unexpected + delightful voicemail.

handing a pile of colorful + cheerful postcards to the mailman.

do you want to capture your own small moments of joy?

if you feel inspired to share, i would so love to receive them.

{i sent this to the hope floats in winter participants on wednesday. i thought i’d share it here, in case you needed a reminder of spring too.}

this morning, i told my mother that it’s official: today, this week, i am seasonally affected. i’m surprised + delighted that it took this long. because of course i am tired of winter. it’s not winter. it’s spring! even if the view from my window doesn’t reflect this.

i created {hope floats in winter} because i wanted to bring a sparkle of light to a season that can be hard for so many. permission + truth require an acknowledgement of where i am. and in the acknowledgement, i remember that sometimes, a sparkle of light is easiest to find, not in the place where you are, but in a reminder of where you are headed.

i know i will find my way to the magic of winter again. i always do. but right now, hope + possibility + wonder + magic exist in the reminder that spring will come – it always does – so i thought it might be the same for you.

may the smiling, beaming, dancing tulips remind you of the promise of spring.

on saturday, atlas turned 11, so i thought it would be fun to wander through his life in pictures.

and so it begins.

2003: i have a new puppy! this is a year that includes surgery (for me), parvo (for him), and the love + fun + adventure + growing pains of our new life together.

2004: this is a year that includes training, daily adventures, trips to sheep dung estates & san diego, and a move from sacramento to folsom.

2005: this is a year that includes more training, more daily adventures, and the pleasure + pain of both a jackrabbit chase & a squirrel catch.

2006: this is a year that includes a move to oregon, a road trip to seattle, camping, hikes, time at the oregon coast, and the beginning of an annual corn maze tradition.

2007: this is a year that includes a road trip to seattle, a road trip to michigan, an adventure in colorado, and fun dog + person classes.

2008: this is a year that includes lots of time at the oregon coast, an autumn trip to detroit lake, the first kitty-friend for a kitty-obsessed puppy, and many more daily adventures.

2009: this is a year that includes the call of the wild dog camp, lots of hiking, more fun dog + person classes, and more daily adventures.

2010: this is a year that includes a new dog-friendly work environment (meaning: i leave my job to be my own employer) and a road trip to the central oregon coast.

2011: this is a year that includes a road trip to the olympic peninsula and many many many daily adventures.

2012: this is a year that includes hikes, adventures, and three months on the couch due to a fractured puppy toe.

2013: this is a year that includes a move to michigan, an adventure in north dakota, a hike up a mountain, encounters with deer + bear poop + foxes + partridge, an arctic-like winter, a household that always seems to have meat + gravy, and many many daily adventures.

happy birthday, atlas!

i love you more than all the stars in the sky & all the fish in the sea, and i am beyond grateful for every single one of our years together.

i renewed my web hosting and i have a heart full of love & appreciation.

for me, for having the courage to be vulnerable.
for you, for your support, appreciation & heart-felt presence.
for life, for the way it encourages me to soften & grow.

a spring thaw allowed my stir-crazy pup to run & smell & explore to his heart’s content. as i watched him, my smile was wide and my heart was full.

he so needed this.

my parting thought today is one of love.

all we really have is this moment.

life is fleeting.
love is forever.
even if it changes in form.

when i saw this photo, i giggled, because it perfectly & succinctly expresses atlas’s current opinion of cold + snow.

he is ready to run! without slipping and sliding. without sinking into the white.

soon, little puppy, soon. (she says hopefully.) and maybe with all your pent-up energy, you will finally catch your rabbit. (she says much less hopefully.)

my mother taught me to darn! i put my mittens on one day and my thumbs poked through. i felt morose — i like my mittens; they were made from old sweaters & i bought them at the beginning of winter — so my mother said i could darn them. serendipitously, i had just the right yarn. (it was going to be a scarf but i never finished it and also there wasn’t really enough yarn for a scarf.) i was so pleased when i was done. i had thumbs again! all thanks to me.

i could live on mac’n cheese. mac’n cheese and steamed broccoli. i could eat it every day for dinner and life would be joyous.

for years, i’ve had a faint memory of a dice game i used to play with friends. i remembered that it had six dice, we called it 10,000, and it was seriously addictive. this christmas, my parents gave me a game called farkle because they had heard about it from some friends. when i read the description, i cried actual tears of happiness. it was my dice game! and yes, it is as addicting as ever. also, every time i play, or watch others play, i remember that i should never ever ever gamble.

my hair is driving me batty. i want to cut it all off. but every time i find a photo of a cute pixie cut, i remember how long it took me to grow out the last one. (at one point, unbeknownst to me, i had a mullet. i don’t want another mullet!)

i have been thinking a lot about the gift economy and how to incorporate it into my business. in short: i would give you a product or service as a gift and i would trust you to gift me back with what you think is a fair value for my offering. that gift might come in the form of money; it might be something else altogether (for example: postcards, cookies, referrals, well wishes, a random act of kindness toward someone, a pair of cowboy boots). i love the idea of this for so many reasons but there are two in particular that stand out. one is that it acknowledges and honors the many ways we can express appreciation and gratitude for products and services, money being only one of those ways. the other is that it seems like a beautiful way for me to practice trust. i am not entirely sure if this is feasible for products (because i must spend money in order to create them) but i really really want to use this method of exchange for offerings like the story club or hope floats in winter; i just need to find the words. in the meantime, if there is something you are desiring and this particular form of exchange resonates with you, do let me know.

happy monday! may it be beautiful.