Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

I had dinner with friends last evening. In their screened-in patio overlooking a wooded backyard leading to a creek. The air cooled significantly as the sky darkened, and at one moment we all enjoyed watching an owl that had taken perch on a tree limb near the creek. While a movie played, we chatted and ate ice pops. I'm pretty sure mine was grapefruit. At least that's what I'm going with.  Not long after the movie ended, I made my way home, which wasn't far. Just a couple of blocks. Cicada, cricket, and frog song drifted on the cool air, and when I looked up, I saw a clear sky full of stars. We've not had a clear night in some time. I stopped in the middle of the street to take in the scene. When I finally arrived home I decided to try and get some night sky photos, something I've never done before. I had no idea what I was doing. I spent twenty minutes or so on the front porch, swaying in my hammock swing as I read an article about astrophotography. What lens ...

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

New Year's day we had an ice storm. Very early Saturday morning, around 3 am (I was outside with Murphy), big, beautiful snowflakes fell. By the time we got up later, around 7, we had nearly five inches of snow on the ground. Because the ice hadn't melted before it began snowing, and because there was no wind, the snow blanketed everything in a thick layer. The result? A gorgeous winter landscape like I haven't seen in many, many years.  The treeline behind my house. I love the almost sepia tone look my camera gave to the image. The maple at the back of my yard. So far it  seems like the maple trees are fairing best. My street as we head home on our walk. The downside is all the weight of ice and snow on the trees has taken a toll. Lots and lots of tree damage. I have two tall pines on the property, and one is decimated. The village in which I live has lovely old trees, and so many have taken a hit. Every time we go out for a walk, it seems like I see more damage than I saw...

Well, 2021 is starting off beautiful but menacing. Ice. And lots of it. The trees in this little village are taking a beating, including the ones on my property. The poor pines on my property and my neighbor's. Both taking a beating. The birch in the side yard is crumbling little by little. I was going to walk down the street to see how things are around town, but all the popping and creaking scared me. Getting conked on the head by a tree limb wouldn't be good. Mailbox ice. The ice is beautiful, though it is destructive. Thankfully, I have nowhere I need to be except right here in my cozy little house.

As I walked through my dining room today, I looked out the windows and saw this beautiful creature. A first for me. So I snapped some photos then set to work researching to see if I could find what it likely is. My best guess at this point is it's a juvenile Summer Tanager. I've never had such colorful birds at my feeders. Ever. The color just takes my breath away.

This morning we awoke to snow. Beautiful, heavy, wet snow covering everything in a thick layer. So after taking Ado for his walk, I went back out and captured some of the beauty. And as I sit here, the snow is still coming down, not finished with creating its work of art.

So, Iceland. Let's start with this: Yeah, I know. Every time I look back through all my photos of Iceland, this one takes my breath away. That green! Seriously beautiful, yes? And everyone who has thumbed through my photos always stops on this one to really drink in what they're looking at. I really had no idea what the landscape would be like before we got to Iceland, so to be able to see this, walk across the black sands, feel the chill . . . it all was incredible. Such beauty in our world, and I will forever be grateful to have had the chance to experience it up close and personal with one of my most favorite people, Angel Baby. I'm not sure Angel Baby knew exactly what he was getting into in agreeing to travel with me. I'm the type who just rolls with the flow. I don't book hotels beforehand. I get to where I'm going and hope to find a place, which is exactly what we did. When we arrived in Reykjavik I told Angel Baby we needed to find a hostel. He d...

March! So good to see you. You are my favorite month, you know that, right? And you didn't disappoint yesterday with the mostly sunny day, warm enough to get a lovely long walk in, to roll down the Jeep window while I drove to the store. Warm enough I only had to wear a long sleeved shirt. No sweater. No sweatshirt. You are a month of change, handing the reins that'd belonged to Winter over to Spring (though I hear Winter is having a bit of a fit right now, not wanting to give up the reins, threatening to bring cold and snow again tonight and tomorrow). I don't envy you your job, having to convince Winter it's time to rest. She is quite headstrong and full of energy. And she really does have three more weeks to spread her fun, so you can't be too hard on her just yet. Between you and me, I like your style of sprinkling in a warm day here, a warm day there, just to give Winter notice. Well done, March, well done. For today, I chose to stay inside and work. Catchi...

I'm trying to work, really work, but the action at the bird feeders is incredibly distracting. The biting cold and snow have the birds eating constantly, which is fine by me. I love just sitting here watching them. But I'm not getting any work completed. Perhaps I should wait until this evening, after dark, to start work. The third pic I took last Sunday. I walked over to the hill to snap a few photos. There were people sledding. I stood and listened to them laugh and whoop as they whooshed down the hill under the blood moon.

 

I went to bed last night with the hope snow would fall for Christmas. This morning, around 5:30, I woke up. Through the lace curtains over my desk, I could see how bright it seemed outside, and I knew snow had fallen. I got up with Ado, went to the living room, and we both stood at the windows, peering out. Snow covered the back deck and lawn. Now, it is 8:30 am, and the snow is still falling. The pine outside my window is snow-laden. Every now and then, a slight gust of wind will push the snow and an angle instead of it floating gently down. The feeders have seen lots of action this morning. A few days ago, I counted 8 male cardinals at the feeders. This morning, I've only seen four. They definitely stand out in the white and gray world of my backyard. I could sit in my oversized chair by the window and watch all day. So beautiful. Mr. and Mrs. enjoying breakfast together Watching over the feeders Buddha turtle serene in a cloak of snow Wishing everyone a beau...

Conference meditation. Thursday, April 20, 2017: My cell phone alarm went off at 5:30 am. I swiped it off, rolled over, and went back to sleep. An hour later, I awoke. This time I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I didn’t want to waste an opportunity to take my mat and find a spot on the park grounds to get in a morning meditation. I quickly dressed in my comfy black sweatpants, light gray sweatshirt, then headed out. I decided to go to the Fu Dogs garden, a wide expanse of grassy area guarded on both sides by cobalt blue ceramic Fu Dogs, statues whose features are a blend of a Pekingese pug dog and the long-haired lion dog. I’ve always loved the whimsy of the Fu Dogs. The ground was wet from a heavy dew, and the cold against my bare feet helped wake me up. The sun was still low behind the trees. I found a spot between two cedar trees just before reaching the Fu Dogs. It felt private, and if others were up and about, walking the Fu Dogs garden, they wouldn’t feel as...

Sometimes, as I'm cycling along, I'll see something and feel a pull, actually it's usually more than a pull, it's almost like an incessant, unfulfilled need, to record the something through the lens of my camera. Today, that something was a tree. Maybe this tree became my fixation because Angel Baby and I watched Guardians of the Galaxy last evening and I fell in love with Groot (the idea of a tree being, not the actor playing the tree being). Or maybe this particular tree spoke to me because it is so different than the other trees around it, and I tend to be drawn to that which is different. I was once asked, way back in high school, after moving to a new home and thus starting as a freshman at a new school, if I had been popular at my old school. I remember shrugging, saying I wasn't unpopular. The girl asking the question kind of cocked her head at me, giving me a bit of a quizzical look, then said, "I can see why you were popular. You're different....