if you have black eyed susans in your neighborhood, you might want to pick some & put them in a vase with water & keep them there until they dry. black eyed susans are bright & cheerful in the wild & in a vase. when they dry, they are sweet & adorable.

i discovered this by accident – i have a habit of keeping flowers long past the time when most people would toss them – and then i went and picked two more bunches. i can just picture their dear little faces smiling sweetly at me in the dead of winter.

(just so you know, they do drop a lot of pollen, even when they’re dry, but i decided it’s worth it. and after they dry, i move them to their new home, which has no water in it.)

you are (i am) magic.

i’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. i don’t want to just believe in magic. (i do.) i want to be magic.

it’s easy to see magic in the shimmering lake, in the jewel-colored sand, in the golden light just before sunset.

but when you break everything down to its essence, it’s all made of the same stuff. so really, i am the shimmering lake. i am the jewel-colored sand. i am the golden light just before sunset.

i am stardust & moonbeam & rainbow. and i am magic.

the car stops.

two legs step down.
four legs jump down.
feet (& paws) on the ground.
relief.

the leash comes off.
freedom!
nose in the air, he runs down the sandy beach,
further & further
until
she can fit him
on her index finger.

he looks different somehow.
head
higher.
back
straighter.

when he finally returns,
when panic has made her voice
hoarse,
her mind
dizzy,
she hugs him in relief.

what were you doing?

i was pretending i was my own dog.

beauty is the sound of a milkweed lament
throbbing around a singing fire
and life
echoing through a whirlwind of elastic fireflies.

in this moment, i am full to the brim.

there is dirt under my fingernails. there is sand between my toes. my body is golden brown from the sun. my hair is wet from the lake. there are probably grass stains on my clothing.

my room is full of wildflowers. my sheets smell like fresh air. the stars will dance above me when i bring atlas out for his middle-of-the-night potty run.

my bowl of (natural) treasures includes dried wild rose petals and an almost perfectly preserved dragonfly – the head & part of one wing are missing – its fragile wings as clear as glass.

in this moment, i am full to the brim with love.

i am in the mood to spread this love around.

if you could use a dose of love, of delight, of magic, send me your mailing address, and i’ll send you a little something in the mail.

from me. to you. with love.

{an extremely irregular series comprised of visual definitions}

nepenthe

noun ne·pen·the \nə-ˈpen(t)-thē\

1 : a potion used by the ancients to induce forgetfulness of pain or sorrow

2 : something capable of causing oblivion of grief or suffering

(definition courtesy of merriam-webster)

the story behind the series.

i am in the middle of one hundred names for love by diane ackerman. it is full of beautiful (& seldom used) words. naturally, it has me thinking a lot about language.

of course there are good reasons to write simply, to use simple words to convey complex ideas, to consider the language knowledge of your readers. once upon a time, i taught people how to do this. at the same time, there is something wonderful about using all the words we have available to us. it makes me sad to think of words just sitting there .. waiting .. growing dusty & unused & then simply forgotten.

since i love language, and i love to pair things, these visual definitions are my way of paying tribute to the words i love.

as seen through the eyes of a wandering fairy.

this reminds me of a story.

did you know that she used to have a twinkle in her eye? it went out for an afternoon walk one day and wandered into a field of flowers. the twinkle wanted to come home, it really did, but it nestled underneath a daisy for a nap and was wooed on awakening by a butterfly who saw it and fell madly in love. the two of them set up house together underneath an overgrown mushroom. when winter came, the twinkle grew tired of outdoor living, but it just couldn’t find its way back to its girl.

wildflowers & waves remind me to slow down, be present & listen.

i laughed when i saw this in person & i laugh every time i see the photo. clearly atlas is protesting. (though i have to wonder why, since he is not a beach dog. maybe it’s like the bathroom door. it’s not that he wants to come in anymore; he just wants to know he has the option.)

my first swim of the season took place on saturday. now it feels like summer!

my favorite beach: bete gris
my favorite lake: superior
my favorite summer activity: a beach day complete with campfire + s’mores

(i think the sand at bete gris has magical properties. i keep touching the bottoms of my feet. they’re so smooth & soft!)