Wildflower peak bloom lasts just a few short weeks, but it packs a punch. It's a celebratory rising from the deep, a makeover for the mind, a shimmying of the heart, a sloughing and shaking off winter's mantle, no longer needed. Was it this beautiful in past years? Probably, but it's as if I'm seeing it for the first time.
Most years I chase after the spring wildflowers, so ephemeral and magical. Finding that perfect peak moment is a moving target, just like seeing the cherry blossoms downtown. Blink and you miss them.
Magic in the Gathering
In April, two writers from my writing group came to visit for a week - a face to face immersion with familiar strangers. They convinced me to drive to Sacramento with them at the end of their visit, where we'd meet up with three others from our group. Strange as the whole thing felt, I kept saying yes. I was trepidatious to say the least...
While I Was Gone
Lots happening and no time to write it up, but the most important thing is...
Right On Time
For weeks we heard the whispers and rumors. Is it time? Are we early? Too late? How many, many things They call to mind These cherry-blossoms! --Matsuo Basho
With the promise of one nice day in the whole week, our quandary is whether to work in the garden or get out and about. The garden is waking up, but the soil is still pretty cold for planting much. Still, there's plenty to be done, and much is of the backbreaking variety. But the wild woods call, and the garden will wait. Awe lies in store.
Way back a week ago, when our erratic spring was warm for 3 minutes, we dropped in on Leach Botanic Garden, a little place I've been curious about for a long time. Because Botanic. And Garden. Both good words.
A Most Respected Garden
I somehow agreed to an 8:30 am tour at the Portland Japanese Garden in early March. I wondered what could possibly be interesting about a slow stroll through the damp, the cold, the bare-branches? I'm sometimes reluctant to go with Alan on his frequent visits; I prefer unkempt forest trails and meandering streams, where nature has its way.
Attics of My Life Part II
Ojai, Ventura, Santa Barbara, our weeklong adventure continues. This wasn't the sort of travel seeking new adventures and novel sights. This was a trip through the past to make sure the ties that bind are healthy and alive.
Attics of My Life
Sometimes you have to step back into the past to find a way to move forward. Actually I just made that up; I don't know if it's true. But doesn't it sound good? I went back to my old home for a week. What did I find? Sustenance, encouragement, joy, beauty, camaraderie. Oh and warmth. A jumping off place. I don't know what's next, but I feel good since coming back; the tank is full. That's good, because I'm writing this in record snowfall.