It's soggy, and has been for a while, and will be for a while more. Not California soggy, which seems strange to say; they have their own troubles. Here in the PNW we have the slow slog kind of soggy, weeks and months of it, seemingly endless. I might be getting used to it, or maybe just resigned. I guess it's what I signed up for when I moved.
Fernhill Wetlands gave me a little taste of summer love, clear blue skies overhead with only the wispiest of clouds, calm reflective waters, languid herons, and fading flowers. Though I've visited here three different times, it was always winter, with grey skies, cold misty fog, winter birds and plants, and the godawful nutria.
World of Dew
"Today's a great day," Ezra says on repeat. "Is every day a great day?" I ask. "Yes," he says, "every day is a great day." It's been a rough week. My friend Kim died suddenly, so I'm glad for the solace and light wherever and whenever it comes.
It's an in-between time around here. Red, yellow, and orange leaves cover the ground and linger in the tree branches, hanging on til the next big winds. Rain alternates between torrents and sprinkles. I've just been in a "should I stay or should I go" sort of mood.
I've been mulling over the ordinary things in life: my pen and paper, cold water, the tomato and eggplant. They transform as soon as I take notice, revealing something extraordinary.
My week in review.... Sometimes life seems to stand still, so I'm grateful for the snapshots over the course of the week to remind me of how time passes, how things grow and change, what a beautiful world, so much hope.
Worms, kids, birds, and a garden. #Wordless Wednesday
Round in Circles
Here I go walking in circles again. If it's not one direction out my front door, it's the other, always in circles, round and round the neighborhood, looping past the same houses, same yards, same trees.
The Entire Sky in a Dewdrop
I read a collection of modern haikus the other day, and the words that stayed with me were Quarantine! Finding comfort! Coronavirus! Butterfly! Moon! Breeze!
Today the grandkids and I buried one of the baby scrub jays that live in the tall line of arborvitae lining the upper edge of our backyard.