Ah - last work, first work,
A turning of the new year
from darkness to light.

Oh yes!

You do not need to leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
 Do not even listen. Simply wait.
 Be quiet, still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked.
It has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
- Franz Kafka  

Stages by Herman Hesse

Stages

As every flower fades and as all youth
Departs, so life at every stage,
So every virtue, so our grasp of truth,
Blooms in its day and may not last forever.
Since life may summon us at every age
Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor,
Be ready bravely and without remorse
To find new light that old ties cannot give.
In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.
Serenely let us move to distant places
And let no sentiments of home detain us.

The Cosmic Spirit seeks not to restrain us
But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces.
If we accept a home of our own making,
Familiar habit makes for indolence.
We must prepare for parting and leave-taking
Or else remain the slave of permanence.
Even the hour of our death may send
Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces,
And life may summon us to newer races.
So be it, heart: bid farewell without end.

Matins by John O'Donohue

Somewhere, out at the edges, the night
Is turning and the waves of darkness
Begin to brighten the shore of dawn.

The heavy dark falls back to earth
And the freed air goes wild with light,
The heart fills with fresh, bright breath
And thoughts stir to give birth to color.

O'Keeffe series continues, the Black Spot

December 26

Presents are opened,
Food all is eaten and the
Visits are over.

A happy, merry Christmas to all

Awakening to a foggy white-out -
brightening with holiday lights and candles lit,
down for cinnamon rolls, chai and coffee, sparkling cider,
Christmas calls, Christmas mail, Christmas carols, Christmas visits,
Christmas feast, slow roasted beef, rosemary potatoes, carrots, onions and celery,
cinnamon sugared acorn squash, crusty rolls, and sweet potato pie.
Presents piled about more merriment to follow.

Oh my!

Mocha herbal coffee soy latte,
Cranberry-orange-almond scone,
a few squares of organic 85%  Trinitario dark chocolate,
strawberries with Greek yogurt,
shelled walnuts,
crystallized ginger in dark Belgian chocolate,
a double peanut butter cookie,
decaf soy chai latte,
Christmas Eve morning!

Christmas caroling,
Holiday lights in darkness
gifts awaiting us.

First Day of Winter,
rain pattering on windows,
green and warm and wet?

Happy Solstice to all

Gelli plate play

To Come Home to Yourself

“May all that is unforgiven in you

Be released.

May your fears yield

Their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unlived in you

Blossom into a future

Graced with Love." – John O’Donohue

“the wild rose” : a poem of love by wendell berry

Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart,

Suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose looming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.

Wrapping up the year

Reorganizing
the studio, unearthing,
clearing - a new way.

59th St. Studio

Pink and Blue

Peaceful, starry night

A new calm

And this

And then move to this

Or let us start here

In the beginning

Late November

Great fat raindrops plop
on roof and walk, as birds call,
and the day begins.

What I am working on...

Besides mandala studies and Japanese painting studies, I have been working on a series of paintings in homage to Georgia (O'Keeffe), photos upcoming.  After discovering three copies of one of her books of paintings and two other volumes I decided now was as good a time as any to really delve into her work.
It has been so much fun!
Looking forward to sharing the works soon.

Moon light stripes the yard
the night before Thanksgiving
as the trees stand bare.

This frosty morning,
the birds sing for their breakfast-
seed splatters, rattles.

Big, bright moon above,
almost full - in November,
T's favorite.

Life has loveliness to sell
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,,
And children's faces looking up,
Holding wonder like a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
eyes that love you, arms to hold,
And for your spirits still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be
-Sarah Teasdale-1917

In the Spirit of the Universal Prayer, MAY PEACE PREVAIL ON EARTH!

Join us in Sending a Peace Prayer Wave Around the World to every region on earth where Peace is needed Now! November 21st, Saturday at 12 noon wherever you are.

School children's voices,
as I gather in the cat,
sing over the hedge.

Sunchoke leaves browning,
hanging lankly on dying
stalks swayed in wet breeze.

Our wren

Tiny ball of wet,
brown fluff, sings tiddly-diddly -
madly from the yard.

The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
 what you had to do, and began,
 though the voices around you
 kept shouting
 their bad advice – – -
 though the whole house
 began to tremble
 and you felt the old tug
 at your ankles.
 ‘Mend my life!’
 each voice cried.
 But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
 though the wind pried
 with its stiff fingers
 at the very foundations – – -
 though their melancholy
 was terrible. It was already late
 enough, and a wild night,
 and the road full of fallen
 branches and stones.
But little by little,
 as you left their voices behind,
 the stars began to burn
 through the sheets of clouds,
 and there was a new voice,
 which you slowly
 recognized as your own,
 that kept you company
 as you strode deeper and deeper
 into the world,
 determined to do
 the only thing you could do – – – determined to save
 the only life you could save.

Stars spangling black sky,
indigo shading from East -
laundry almost done.

Mid-November

Morning sunrise of
salmon, cerulean stripes;
birds calling for seed.

Friday the 13th

Wind rushing, tickling,
blowing leaves from branch and roof
clearing out the sky.

November afternoon

Golden leaves falling
through turquoise sky striped with gray
unto verdant lawn.

Mid-autumn

Books, books and more books
boxes and stacks, piles and rows
waiting for winter.

Awake in the night 
awaiting the weather change,
head aches and knee aches.

Fall foliage burns bright
against the gray morning air.
The greens hum deeply.

Poetry share

 irreverent baking

I should be upstairs with the others, drumming up ways
to heal the world, save the animals, pray for water
in a far-off continent, devote the remainder of my days
to a catalog of restorations. But this morning, it was the matter
of scones that drew my gaze, and my feet remained
planted in the kitchen. One must never ignore the instinct
to create, is what I told myself, and soon the counter was stained
with flour, my hands sticky with dough, the house inked
with the smell of blueberry possibility, and I knew I was not wrong.
This was my prayer, my act of healing, my offering, my song.

Maya Stein

Music of morning -
birdseed spattering, scattered
upon fallen leaves.

All Soul's Day

Golden light slanting
illuminating the ground
under yew bushes.

All Saints Day 2015

Trees must have received
the memo - the month has changed -
leaves are raining down.

Halloween morning

Diamond frost dustings,
glittering, sparkling rooftops,
chased by the sunlight.

Oscar Wilde said...

The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.
If you know exactly what you’re going to do, what’s the good of doing it.
Inspiration exists, but it has to find you at work.
If I paint a wild horse, you may not see the horse…but surely you will see the wildness.

Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.
Pablo Picasso

from Henry Miller ...

Art teaches nothing except the significance of life.

Let us celebrate it ALL

Happy, Happy Birthday and early wishes for a long and happy retirement, too

You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty. - Osho

A giant story unfolds across the evening skies of October. It involves Andromeda and four surrounding constellations. They tell us of the mother who angered the gods, the father who ordered Andromeda sacrificed to appease them, the sea monster that tried to destroy her, and the hero who saved her. And in the morning sky, Venus, Jupiter and Mars all congregate within the borders of Leo, adding some zest to the chilly autumn mornings.

So sweet

I know someone who kisses the way
a flower opens, but more rapidly.
Flowers are sweet. They have
short, beatific lives. They offer
much pleasure. There is
nothing in the world that can be said
against them.
Sad, isn’t it, that all they can kiss
is the air.
Yes, yes! We are the lucky ones.
Mary Oliver

A suggestion from Rob Brezsny

 Go to the ugliest or most forlorn place you know -- a drugstore parking 
lot, the front porch of a crack house, a toxic waste dump, or the place 
that symbolizes your secret shame -- and build a shrine devoted to 
beauty, truth, and love.

Ahhh

When I say be creative.
I don't mean
you should all go
and become freat painters
and great poets.
I simply mean
let your life
be a painting,
let your life
be a poem.

Osho

Today

Oxalis starring
green, green grass, littered with leaves
bright October noon.

Mid-October

Days grow shorter - night
closes in sooner, sooner,
blankets pile the bed.

Came across this today

Nation’s Ode to the Coast

Dr John Cooper Clarke

A big fat sky and a thousand shrieks
The tide arrives and the timber creaks
A world away from the working week
Où est la vie nautique?
That’s where the sea comes in …

Dishevelled shells and shovelled sands,
Architecture all unplanned
A spade ‘n’ bucket wonderland
A golden space, a Frisbee and
The kids and dogs can run and run
And not run in to anyone
Way out! Real gone!
That’s where the sea comes in …

Impervious to human speech, idle time and tidal reach
Some memories you can’t impeach
That’s where the sea comes in
A nice cuppa splosh and a round of toast
A cursory glance at the morning post
A pointless walk along the coast
That’s what floats my boat the most
That’s where the sea comes in …

Now, voyager – once resigned
Go forth to seek and find
The hazy days you left behind
Right there in the back of your mind
Where lucid dreams begin
With rolling dunes and rattling shale
The shoreline then a swollen sail
Picked out by a shimmering halo
That’s where the sea comes in …

Could this be luck by chance?
Eternity in a second glance
A universe beyond romance
That’s where the sea comes in…
Yeah, that’s where the sea comes in …

Thousands of members of the public helped with writing this poem - read about it here, where you can also see a gorgeous video with the poem being read, made by the National Trust.

Harvest moon basket

Moon and Water by Mary Oliver

I wake and spend
The last hours
Of darkness
With no one
But the moon.
She listens
To my complaints
Like the good
Companion she is
And comforts me surely
With her light.
But she, like everyone,
Has her own life.
So finally I understand
That she has turned away,
Is no longer listening.
She wants me
To refold myself
Into my own life.
And, bending close,
As we all dream of doing, she rows with her white arms
Through the dark water
Which she adores.

After the equinox

Watching the window -
close the door against the cool
with the cat's return.

Fall-ing

Autumnal equinox

More noting of tiny beauty all around

worlds within worlds

New energies

Journal play

Fall clematis blooms

late summer rain

elemental collaboration

Blessing

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

James Arlington Wright

Baking Day

On the journey

Stepping out

Journey's beginning

Lake dreams

August's endings

August waning

Wet pavements and cat,
great masses of dripping green
late heat wave breaking.

Tuesday

Morning symphony -
crow, catbird, crickets, starlings,
trucks rumble, cars start.

Morning rising

glory in the morning

lovely evenings

Shades of late summer

Crickets chorusing
Jays scolding on quiet morn
cat going in, out.

So quickly

8 AM on the
8th day of the 8th month - to
8:08 AM - ...

Divine blue

Moon shadows fading -
surprise - blue morning glory
wrapped on sunflowers.

August morning

Red-orange sunrise
Crickets slowly chirping as
full moon is setting.

Blue Moon

Julia's birthday
for celebrating this year
once on a blue moon

Late July

Cool, foggy morning
moisture beading on the cars
lingering skunk scent.

Small miracles

Great year for bird-watching,
pairs of goldfinches as bright as the sunflowers they are feeding on;
a little downy woodpecker, laddered black, white and red,  in the lilac;
the Carolina wren families scolding us from the bushes and waking us at dawn
and this morning a tiny hummingbird buzzing about and alighting in the mulberry.

Sunday

Hot, hot, hot weather,
shut the doors and close windows,
the afternoon bakes.

Weather

Gray, lowering skies,
fits and starts of steamy storms
mid-July mornings.

Mother-in-law

Today remembrance -
Would be eighty-seven years,
But five years gone now.

Dawn

Rising light splashes,
flowing along maple trunks, 
across lawns and roofs.

Searching

Lost.leaves interleaved -
misplaced, found anew, replaced,
over and over.

Again

Thunder as storms pass;
evening after evening rains;
no time to dry out.

Relief

Seventy-seven
at seven AM - but there -
a breath of cool air.

Muggy morning

Gray, lowering sky
The air lies heavily moist
trees standing limply.

Enough ruckus

Blasts, pops, crackles, booms,
the lightning bugs paid no mind
under silent trees.

Away

Glorious morning
we share even while apart,
we are together

Remembrance

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting 

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

from Dream Work by Mary Oliver

published by Atlantic Monthly Press

© Mary Oliver

July

Sweet dreams, full moon, new
month, mid-year glowing fireflies,
floating pink blossoms.

Stormy weather

Red in the morning
Dark clouds through the afternoon -
rain coming tonight?

After the storms

My yard reminds me
of Maurice Sendak monster
large and rambunctious.

After the solstice

Mourning dove calling,
the sun slowly distancing,
sunflowers reaching

Monday

Monday, laundry day,
sheets and blankets stripped and washed,
new made bed tonight.

Solstice

Father, food and games,
morning walk in cool, wet, woods,
dreaming of Northwest.

Passing on

Terry, may you rest.
in peace or in rollilcking,
whichever you chose.

Monsoon

Dr. Seuss flowers,
bee balm's bright red fright wigs sprout
from sodden garden.

Midsummer

Fluffy mimosa
pink tufts on slender branches
overarching all.

Phew

Lashing thunderstorm,
stinky tree of heaven smell,
close all the windows.

Good morning

On Monday mornings
prayers and meditation,
laundry to be done.

Arghh

Zmmmm, Zmmm, Zmmm  - all day
Weedwhackers, lawnmowers buzz;
no quiet Sunday.

Through the backdoor

i know not the name
of the sweet, flowering bush,
but i welcome it.

Almost

Dog barking pre-dawn
Startling me awake, but then,
falling back asleep.

Before the rainstorm

Heavy green stillness,
The shadowed trees stand in rank,
not even bird song.

Tuesday

Yesterday's heat gone.
Today's nor'easter brings us
cold, gray, steady rain.

Dessert

You never know, when
you peel the mandarin, what
the flavor will be.

Sunday morning

Sunday paper - where?
Tea jars shining in the sun.
Savoring waffles.

Surprise

First thing this morning
honeysuckle's deep sweetness
rushed thru the back door.

Summer nearing

Opening windows
at 4 am - releasing
yesterday's trapped heat.

End of May

A chattering of
blackbirds in the mulberry -
my meditation.

Good-byes

On the weathered bench
a fallen leaf and flower -
chickadee calling.

Before the heat of the day

Windows opened up
cool morning air curling in
along with bird song.

Early morning

Sunlight carresses
softly but sharply flowing
curving maple trunks.

Sunday dinner

Fresh blueberry pie
better than any store bought
perfect end of meal.

End of May

Odd chilly morning-
Silly to turn up the heat
knowing 90's soon.

An apple a day

Morning song

Mourning dove's soft call,
who, oh who, who, who, who - will
someone answer her?

Homage to Issa's cuckoo

Cardinal's sharp call,
Repeats, repeats, repeats, - then
comes a great, long, pause.

Open house

Ladybug dots the wall
stink bug buzzing the bedroom
outdoors has come in.

Aujourd'hui

Muffins are cooling,
laundry ready for dryer -
Monday morning song.

Gray Sunday

Late to arise on
murky, muggy, slow morning -
too tired to drink tea.

Saturday baking

Ruby red rhubarb
mixed together in a pie
with sweet ripe berries.

Prayer for Denise

Wow

Zippy stripe of light
racing over the yew bush
feathery chartreuse.

Fecundity

Filling the downspouts
thousands of maple seeds - flung
clacking on the house.

Music

Grace of a faint smile
deep into the mystery,
not knowing - finding.

Past few mornings

Sweet, cool, green dampness-
hot afternoons bring morning's
faraway sea's fog.

Pie baking

Back from the market,
strawberries and rhubarb wait,
cat sleeps in my lap.

Mid-spring

Sunlight slowly pours
down the backs of the yew bushes
onto the porch floor.

Ahhhh

Glowing purple blooms
festooning lilac bushes
perfuming dawn's clouds.

Work morning

Coffee's made, cat's fed,
lunch is packed by the back door.
House is opened up.

Cinqo de Mayo

Greens and bronzy grays
lie lush, damp, and still, on a
cloudy, spring morning.

May morning

Sunlight carresses
the curvaceous maple trunk
modestly leafed out.

Beltane

Awake before dawn
full moon setting through misty
clouds, robins trilling.

Saturday morning

Thin stripes of brightness
ripple over the yews
jaunty yellow green.

First of May

Yesterday's downpours
swirling snowy pear petals -
today's pulsing greens.

Glorious spring

I am as the clear
achingly blue sky above
pink dogwood blossoms.

Wednesday

Bumble bees bumbling
above yews, over fences,
one can only laugh!

Tuesday

Spangles of sunlight
Spattering leaves this bright morn
Two days before May.

Monday morning

Prrr, Prrr, Prrrr, she says,
Suddenly jumping away,
Resettling to groom.

Sunday morning

This morning's poem
held clever non sequiturs  -
koans for today?

Chilly, Saturday morning

As still today as
yesterday was filled with wind
tomorrow who knows...

Brave blossoms in the frost

Treasure hunting

Milling through the rows
of stacks and stacks of used books
gems and coins of words.

Mid-afternoon

Too tired to write
a nap would be nice right now
need to make dinner.

Wednesday

Tangerine sunrise
opening eyes of my soul
 to tender spring tints.

Last night's crescent moon
floating with Venus on a
soft indigo sky.

Previous Tuesday

Yesterday I lost
myself, I became other;
today some one new.

Monday

As spring, as autumn,
Maple leaves open russet,
Time turns so quickly.

Spring Sunday

White pear blossoms
bright pink peach
orange tulips from the valley
with a sprinkling of violets

Saturday

Orange horizon
Bird song fills the dew soaked air
Peach blossoms pink burst!

Spring hymn

i thank you god for most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

--e.e. cummings

Feathering the nests

Cardinal calling

The cardinal calls in the backyard,
the sparrows and doves gather the seeds
thrown on the lawn and into the ivy.
We spied a lone vanessa butterfly
flying in evasive, erratic flight
as the martins swooped and fussed
while we soaked up the early spring sun.

Friday breakfast

Toast a whole grain English muffin
spread on chunky peanut butter
top with half a sliced banana
dust with ground ginger
sprinkle with chia seeds
drizzle buckwheat honey overtop

Early spring

Chilly damp morning
Cozy, furry, purry cat
Cup of tea awaits

Tuesday breakfast

Take a piece of oat bran bread
toast it nice and  brown
smear on a fat pat of butter
drizzle on a teaspoon or so of
buckwheat honey and spread evenly
dust with a layer of ground ginger
and on that a good sprinkle of white chia seeds
cut into quarters and have with a big
glug of soy, hazelnut, almond herbal iced coffee
Yum!

Beginning of work week

Robins are trilling
as the full moon is setting
rosy dawn rises

Easter Sunday

Feast day to celebrate our renewal.  Parmesan chicken, ham, asparagus, roast potatoes and rolls. Talks and visits with and from family.  A walk in the outdoors to hear the frogs, and see the first green plant shoots.  Hallelujah.

Holy Saturday

To be the day of waiting, between the darkness and the light, the new and the old worlds, from death to rebirth.  Today we celebrate our 35th anniversary, or the coral anniversary, a talisman worn to ward off the nightmare demons of darkness.  I have been gifted a turquoise and coral ring, Mother Earth and Father Sky, joined together in the silver of purity and truth to protect and nurture us.

Good Friday

The ultimate sacrifice and humility, to save us all.  May we all find renewal and rebirth anew.

Maundy Thursday

The day of mysteries.  Awaken to it all, the great mystery, life. 

April Fools

"Our loving God wills that we eat, drink and be merry, " apparently Martin Luther said this, wow, how nice.
Stocked the larder with fruit and cake, and all manner of staples, reorganized the pantry shelves, spring is coming!

Holy Tuesday

In the afternoons
I stand knee deep
in the sacrament of poetry
washed clean by the words
of those of the past century.
Wendell Berry, William Stafford,
Richard Hass, filling me with wonder
and awe of their holy language;
astounded by the perspicacity,
the spaciousness, and the spirit.

Winterbloom

One of our first signs of spring, witch hazel.

Sunday morning

Up with the orange dawn on a frosty morning to the tune of birdsong.  Amazing fresh strawberries and frozen blueberries to go into oat, flax, quinoa, ginger, almond waffles. 

Uh-oh

25 and snow, brrr, just doesn't seem quite right, oh well. Tomorrow will bring something new.

Witch hazel and weeping willow

The witch hazel is in bloom and smells oh so wonderful and its red and gold spider blooms are some of the first of the season.  Looking across the yards the weeping willows are bright yellow green to brighten our moods.

Putting away the hats and scarves

Pulling boots and heavy winter coats out of the closet to take to the attic, getting out the plant, bird, and butterfly guides.  Sorting and clearing and paring down from the clutter of winter to the lightness of spring.

Late March

The mornings are still oh so chilly, but the robins' songs warm our hearts.

Early spring

So close to the edge of winter, hovering around freezing all day on a cloudy day.  Back to hibernation.

Only the 30's but nice and bright

Still not many flowers except in the stores, but they are coming...  Got the car's oil changed, fluids topped off, vacuumed out, ready for the new season.  The winter quilts have come down and the spring ones are on the walls, definitely feeling like a season of renewal after a hard winter.

Cool spring

Most of the snow is gone, bright sun, not too warm, but not so cold.  Doves calling in the morning, hawks hunting in the afternoon.

And today

Bright sun, upper 40's, yesterday's snow quickly disappearing.  Lots of fat saucy robins in the yards, lots of bird song in the mornings, spring!

Snowy equinox

Fat, wet flakes drifting down, catching in my hair, melting on my tongue. Back to a monotone world right before it bursts forth into technicolor, we must be in Oz. 

Raspberry and purple sunrise

Red in the morning, snow due in tonight.  But this morning the crows woke everyone up and then the robins sweetly sang, the cardinal called and then the sweetest of all the warbler joined in.  The early crocus and witch hazel blooms will see a blanket of snow by tomorrow but for today they will have their time in the sun.

To and fro

I stitched a little, wrote a little, read a little, listened a little, watched a little, ate a little, talked a little.
The birds kept calling, the v of geese flew overhead, people came and went, slept and rose, the cat came in and out. 

Squirrely

Last evening the squirrels were up and down and all around among the birds in the great seed pool and surprise, green grass where the snow receded.

Struggling into the 40's

The sun is trying to dispel the chill, but so far the cool dampness is winning.  Starting off the beginning of the week worn out a bit and a bit dispirited, it must be March, such a changeable time.

The Ides of March

Remembrance of ones gone on before.  A chill day, low forties and windy about what is expected for this time of year.  The birds are singing all morning despite the snow still on the ground. 

Signs of spring

I saw my first robin hopping about in the neighbor's yard.  On a walk yesterday we say purple crocus in the neighbor's garden and gold ones further down the street.  The maple and lilac buds seems to be coloring and swelling. And through the night into today a good soaking rain. Joy, joy!

Lovely sunrise

The day is dawning bright and fresh.  The melting breeze is lifting the snow away.  The doves call as the sun rises. 

Ahhh

The rain and fog are passing giving way to a warm sunny day, so odd after the long cold winter to have such a mild day.  Good day to get out and get groceries.  Lots of reading and writing but hard to settle down to the visual art these days.  Last night my creation was a salad with a kale and lettuce bed, topped with chopped red beets, apples and celery, with halved hard-boiled eggs and bacon slices on the side. Today I am planning a meat loaf with many ingredients and seasonings, this seems to be where my creativity wishes to take me for now.

Lambient

The air is gentle and mild against my cheek this morning.  The bird song rises up through the dawn's air.  The cat is eager to get out after months of being cooped in.  The feeling of hope is curling above the melting snow and a faint feeling of rightness arising from the thawing ground.

Hooray, hooray it is laundry day

55 degrees, the laundry is washed and dried.  A new painting begun, the house set to rights.  A brief outing may be upcoming before the spring rains set in.  Glorious, glorious spring!

All right!

47 degrees, heaven!  The huge snow mounds are shrinking.  The sun is so warm the car is warm without the heater.  What a blessed relief after a very long, very cold winter. 

Okay

okay, I admit, the snow is "pretty."
At least in the bright sunshine of mid-March,
when we know it will soon give way,
when the colors are returning to the sky and shadows
when the frost flowers bloom upon the glass
when the sled trails carve down the banks
showing  that children still play outdoors
when the icicles long teeth grin from the gutters
and the tree limbs are all outlined in white
then, yes, it is kind of pretty, maybe even kind of beautiful.

Fire and ice

Icicles hang above my front door
 encased in the flame,
 of the bright sun
shimmering inside them
so that they begin to drip
even in the 10 degree weather.
The street is quiet under the
deep mantle of snow
with high banks piled all along it.
The bright blue jay flashes down to the seeds,
while the slatey junco hops among them,
even that raucous fellow oddly silent.

And more snow

Here we go again, but as I was out shoveling I was accompanied by the sweetest of bird song which lets me know spring is creeping closer and closer so no need to be down-hearted even though it is yet again a study in white and gray out the window and the snow is starting to lie thickly on the ground.

malaise

A bit of a bug hit in the night and laid me a tad low for the day.  A cold rainy day, now filled with silvery fog, before the snow returns early in the morning, and then maybe spring will be coming.

Cold rain

Rainy day, on the edge of ice, very cold and damp and gray.  A good day to hide out in bed with a good book.  Put on your woolies and snuggle under the covers, doze off a bit.

Crystal trees

Everything is iced over and when the sun comes out of the clouds the trees sparkle bright white against the slate colored sky.  And the ice falls in great rainbow-filled drops from the wires and gutters.  The hedge looks like pickets of glass rattling in the breeze.  Soon all will be returned to winter bareness as the day warms.

March First

Though it has been snowing and blowing since dawn, the day is brighter with the sun closer, even if we are barely into the 20's, there is an air of hope, as the birds sing early on fighting for the seed thrown out.  A repeat of last Sunday's storm that lies in our yards and streets, now sculpted into frozen waves upon our domestic shores.  19 days until the equinox now and the days are stretching perceptibly longer and later to raise winter weary spirits a bit, to hope for release to warmth once again.

Another cold night

Back down to single digits again, but a warm up to be coming.  Yesterday the flurries were light and often, as white flakes softly, randomly, somewhat steadily, blew around.  Today dawns clear and sunny filled with birdsong harkening to spring's coming.

From snow to sun

Half inch of snow when I went out for breakfast, nice sunshine in the afternoon for art group.  The doves are calling, spring is creeping a bit closer even with single digits forecast for the next couple of nights. 

Busy day

We made it above freezing today, so busy, busy, catching up.  More finishes and works in progress to show, but photos come next.

WIP

Oh spring

I dream of you

Watching the weather

From another blogger, who is not a big believer in Groundhog Day...
Try to predict the weather? LOL In La Grande we Never try to predict the weather. We have what we call the weather rock though.
If it is dry and has a shadow it is sunny...
If it is wet it is raining...
If it is white it is snowing
If it sparkles there is frost...
If it is gone...it is very very windy and you better look for another rock

A poem....

found on a quilt in the SAQA collection from internet browsing on a snowy, blowy day...

“ !

o(rounD)moon,how
do
you(rouNd
er
than roUnd)float;
who
lly &(rOunder than)
go
:ldenly(Round
est)

? 
Since feeling is first, ee cummings

Like walking on styrofoam

Squeaking snow underfoot, so dried and out and cold with the below zero windchills, but yet the birds still are singing in the morning.

Record cold

Heaters running, faucets turned on and off, hope this is the coldest night of the year, looks like another -20 windchill night.  Sure hope this cold air goes back to Siberia soon.

Glittering

Because of the deep cold,
the snow lies like fine
diamond dust
twinkling and sparkling
in the bright sunlight

Wowsers it is cold!

A little geranium dreaming of things to come.

President's Day

0 degrees and frozen cold water pipe to the washer.  And now it looks like we are in for a half foot of snow and a stretch of even colder temps.  Tough month.  Spring is out there somewhere, but still pretty far off from us I am afraid. 

3 degrees

-21 windchill this morning, so grateful we woke up with the power still on.
Thankfully only an inch or so of snow, going to be a cold week, a very wintry February here.

Happy Valentine's Day

Dreaming

A little vision of things to come.

Spring

Painted a primrose and a geranium in bright colors today to think spring, while it is still very much winter around here.  Photos tomorrow.

Sunshine

A bright morning, lovely to behold.  The forecast is a bit daunting with wind and snow and below zero windchills forecasted for several days coming up.  A tough winter, not a mild one this year.

Beginning to understand the many names of snow

This morning, we woke up to a gritty, half frozen to the walk coating of "something".  Not sure I would exactly call it snow.  I think the term used by the weather people around here is "wintry mix".
It is kind of sandy, a bit like prepared bread crumbs as a cooked coating, a bit grainy and hard to remove.  And underneath it all is slightly treacherous footing, so  all in all a good day to stay in, do the laundry, quilt, cook, clean the frig, plan new projects; tomorrow... maybe an outing.  Do hope things melt before I go out for my evening meeting!

Another day of icy rain

Gray, cold, wet, and more to come, not been the nicest of winters.  Dreaming of spring.

Gray and 30's

Was not the day they predicted, still quite chilly and now ice in the forecast again for tonight.
A draggy winter, not a lot of sunshine either. However, it was clear and very cold Tuesday to allow us to see Jupiter in tandem with the full moon in the east as Venus brilliantly set in the west. 

Amazing pink sky

Before the day went to gray, the dawn was an amazing coral pink, now chilly and damp.  A visit to the Amish markets for apples, apple butter, and pumpkin butter for me; a latte and 2 tamales for T.
Saw the warmth is residing in the Western US for awhile now, would be nice to have some sent our way, patience.

Winter is wearing us out

8 degrees this morning, to warm up the next few days, but not last. We are all beginning to feel a little winter weary, but we have certainly been blessed not to get the big dumps of snow that have fallen elsewhere.  The weekend may be in the 40's which will be lovely! The first sign of spring was the other day when we heard the mourning doves calling, some of our first nesters.  When we broke the seed pots off the rose of sharon, the stems showed bright green. Some years we have seen the crocuses rising by now,  but the ground has been very cold this winter, so no signs as yet.

Son's 30th birthday

Feast for lunch at Blue Koi, tempura, teriyaki, maki-maki, satay, miso, spring and summer rolls, pineapple fried rice, tom yum, oh my!!!!  May your life be blessed and all good things come to you!

Winter beauty