Into The Wild

Each day, the camera reminds me of how much the leaves grow, how green they are at first, how solid and whole. For many years, I did not notice that, but the camera reminds me to notice it, and appreciate it every day. This grounds me, reminds me what is important, pulls me out of my sometimes dark and gloomy self. See the light, I think. Be back Thursday.

Off On A Mission

We are off on a mission for two days. Be back Thursday. Bringing a camera, Ipad but no computer. It’s nice to give everyone a rest from me for a couple of days, I think. I appreciate all of you.

Proposing To Each Day

Every morning, when I wake up,

I propose to the day.

Will you marry me?, I ask.

Be my partner, my love, in life? All day?

To the last minute?

I ask nothing from you,

other than your presence in my life.

And we exchange our vows.

I promise to be faithful, and loving.

To grow and learn and change.

To cherish each day,  forever.

To renew myself, and give rebirth to my life.

Each day, I vow, I will honor you.

By living my life.

Telling  my story.

Making something beautiful,

And affirming the light and beauty and promise of the world.

And my beloved day, I say, I will not diminish you or waste  you,

in fear. Or anger. Or argument. Or judgement.

Because you are a gift that I cherish,

And will never have again.

And then, wondrous and sacred day, if I keep my vows,

and do right by you, I will propose to you again,

first thing tomorrow.

And now, the bride and groom can kiss our kiss of life,

and walk down our aisle together.

Mother's Mothers Day

Mother celebrated her Mother’s Day in style. She ate some tuna, she caught a barn swallow by the feeder, she got a mouse or two in the meadow, she sunned herself right by the chickens near the Pig Barn, sat in the sun in the big barn, and hit in the garden and stared at Frieda for awhile. For Mother a good day.

Dying Dandelions

I admire dandelions. They are always dying, being killed and poisoned but supplanted. And they are always popping up again, unwanted, scorned, overshadowed by the pretty boys and girls. They are tough little suckers, and I admire their determination to be dandelions, even when it seems the rest of the earth is telling them a different story. Perhaps in another reality, the dandelions are the beautiful flowers, and the beloved flowers the weeds.