You Say We’ll Never Make it There. So All We Do Is Circle It.


The sun finally came out, if only briefly. Keeping this blog has had the nice added effect of making me slow down and observe, to quiet all my thoughts and really look. Now I try to always have my camera nearby so I can capture my world for you.


This is one of my favorite trees, deserving of its own mythology. The way it grew and grew into a perfect arch before suddenly veering ramrod straight. Was it reaching longingly for its true love, until one day disaster struck- a bolt of lightning, a thoughtless axe- and its whimsical heart was shattered, vowing never to bend for love again. If I trekked across the forest would I find a fallen tree with an opposite matching curve, tears of sap long since wept and dried?


This weekend was pretty terrible. I hosted a birthday party on Saturday and then a mushroom fry and cookout on Sunday. Too much time with people who will never be a family, no matter how much I try to Martha Stewart them into submission. I might write about it later, if I can find a way to make it more amusing than painful.

There were bright spots, though. Heaps and heaps of delicious fried mushrooms. Bright table cloths and sparkling spring sunlight. Playing hide-and-seek with the two year old, who can now count to five, who gives the best hugs and always a kiss on EACH cheek followed by rubbing noses. A rescued baby woodpecker who flew in from the back deck and stunned himself trying to fly through the front glass door. He sat dazed and blinking, clinging to my finger as I checked out each wing and claw, until finally his eyes brightened and he fluttered happily away.

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