i found this quote on the internet today and had to share. i both love and hate it.

love because – truth.

hate because – truth.

i want to see the whole path, not just the next step!

(and yes, i am very fond of book + movie spoilers.)

this swamp is right in front of my parents’ house. i looked at it multiple times a day, every single day i was home, from the summer before third grade until the summer after college. (that’s fourteen years, give or take. i subtracted a year for a semester abroad + a summer internship + a fall co-op assignment.)

last year, i noticed that the swamp has layers of green and gold in autumn. it’s so beautiful! all those years spent across from it. how did i miss this?

it makes me wonder what else i’m not noticing. because i suspect the essence of this is true of everything.

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.

wishing you a road less traveled, in your inner or outer world.

on september 21st, 2003, a six month old weimaraner came home with me. i named him atlas.

on september 21st, 2014, atlas and i celebrated our 11 year weimiversary by hiking in the porcupine mountains wilderness state park with my sister helen (atlas’s second favorite person).

it was the perfect way to spend the day. the fall colors were glorious.

and even after 11 years, atlas is still the best. puppy. ever. i will love him to the moon and back forever.

lake of the clouds: a lake that is often very aptly named.

atlas says: this is what i think of all this photo-taking.

we saw this field on the way there so stopped on the way back for some pictures. the reminder in my iphone said, “stop one mile after lake xxx sign, open field with color”. fortunately, we still found it.

i still can’t believe all the color! all the glorious magnificent resplendent abundant color.

while on a trail run this summer, i captured the trails and my thoughts with my iphone. my intention at the time was to transcribe the audio and share it with the photos.

as it happened, many of the things i wanted to share this spring-summer fell by the wayside. i enjoyed caring for my grandparents’ house and yard, and for my parents’ garden whenever they were away, so my summer was more physical than usual and i spent very little time at my computer.

today, while on another trail run, i took photos of the trails in autumn. they reminded me of that intention.

i am sharing my summer thoughts & photos here, now, as they were originally captured. because when i spoke into my iphone, i was speaking to you. because the trails of the keweenaw are beautiful, in each & every season.

 
(in case you don’t like audio, the essence of my thoughts is this: trail running is my moving meditation.)

one flower
for a playful wink.
one flower
for a loving kiss.
one flower
for a heartfelt wish –
that you feel truly deeply completely safe & adored.

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?

“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.”

~ George Carlin