mid-autumn the carelessness of leaves -- Gregory Longnecker, tinywords.com Most front yards in my Portland neighborhood are a sea of leaves scattered helter skelter; mosaics in shades of ochres, browns, yellows and burgundies, arrayed in various sizes, shapes, and arrangements.
The Japanese Garden may seem like a cacophony of design and yet, as soon as I pass that first archway, a quiet descends, a transformative hush. My busy mind is left behind.
Sticks and stones, ivy and conifers, patience and stillness, oblivious to outside world. Come walk with us.
Remembering, forgetting, sleep, no sleep, letting go, understanding, not understanding, the horizon in front of me....
A gorgeous spring weekday, a visitor who's never seen Multnomah Falls or the Columbia Gorge, and his fancy Tesla to test drive. All ingredients for a fun afternoon on the road.
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!
A blur of activity, a brain that never stops, a trickster, a climber, a jumper, exuberance that makes me stop and watch, stop and breathe in her 8 year old essence.