dear ladies,

for each month that has passed,
a few blessings.

june, delight.

june, community garden

june, brooklyn subway

april, fluting

april, baby sitting

april, garden planning

April, afternoon light.

april, easter eggs

j

april, tea

march, suki

march, waiting at the park

february, friend's house.

february, apple on a bench

January, Obama's inauguration

december, homemade hobby horse

november, thanksgiving with brooke

solstice

holly & ivy

two fallen-down cedar trees

baby bantam chickens

I am parched for some good Asheville fun. Knoxville is drowning me. Oh, the 'villes.

Solstice is coming up and I think I will be celebrating it mostly solo, as usual. A meal with the fam, of course, but no real celebration-of-light. I wish you all could be here for those days, at some point. What I really wish is that more people would understand my aversion to Christmas as well as my simultaneous love of wintertime festivities. Maybe one day when my farm is a hippie commune we can all celebrate the longest day of the year together.

the feeling of connectedness explained visually

little robot understands as well, what I was trying to explain in the last post.

warm sky, in sweet novembers

It's a shame this one didn't survive. Caterpillars, coccoons and these delicate winged things have been bursting forth from the milkweed stems. Green-pronged leaves have been feasted upon, leaving only brittle bones and tomorrow's leaves waiting in soft pricks of yellow green. I watched a cocoon split open, and a new monarch with gilded orange wings crawl out. Then I noticed this one (in the photograph above) which was sitting on a low branch near the ground. The other butterfly's wings gave tentative flicks and finally became firm wings, but this one's wings never seemed to find that state.

It was still there in the evening, though it had valiently crawled a few feet away to a different plant. Now it's thanksgiving, and we're about to go feast and celebrate and smile, and I'm second-guessing the importance of explaining to you two about the brief existence of this small creature.

I'm writing this after reading what vyn has written about grad school and staying aware of the overall goal and purpose of her life. I have many emotions about the decisions and mindsets which I am constantly allowed to choose for myself. I've been talking a lot with my younger brother lately, who feels he's been putting his life on fast-forward since he was younger and now can't figure out how to start living in the present again.

Watching this butterfly is important to me because it is a simple act of experiencing and responding to the world. It's wings are beautiful, and a lot of effort and circumstances took place to allow this butterfly to exist. I feel connected to it- calm, delighted- alive.

Ultimately, in spite of all the confusion, bitterness and sorrow we find in this world, we are still just creatures on the planet, trying to survive and sharing the world with the forces of life and nature around us. The butterfly- it is enough.

Wonderful news of Cage and Savannah...
I miss you both, and crave the comforts of being near people who take time to find and create beauty, and live compassionately. But being reminded that you two are out there in the world, doing and sharing and experiencing brings a smile to my face and ease to my soul. :)

The water of life renews every spirit; but thou are the water of the water of life.

Frustration...quiet...allowance

Hirundo miniscula avis corpore,
sed egregie pio sublimis affectu,
indiga rerum omnium,
preciosiores auros nidos,
quia sapienter nidificat.
Nidus enim sapientie preciosior est auro.

The swallow is a tiny bird
but of an eminently pious nature;
lacking in everything
it constructs nests which are more valuable than gold
because it builds them wisely.
For the nest of wisdom
is more precious than gold.

Lately the frustrations with grad school have grown more severe. I find myself continuously trying to remember what it is that's actually important to me, where my soul really lies. Is it in the red clay of East Tennessee? Is it in the human capacity for thought and design? Is it in human delight in non-human denizens of our world (such as the air we breathe and the algae that cleans our water)? Is it in my family, my friends, my unseen, unknown soul mate?

I keep checking, looking down at my feet and considering the direction in which they're headed. Do I want to go that way? Just what is it that's behind me again? If I turn to look, will I be able to get back on this forward course?

I miss the two of you dearly and I hope you know that it means the world to have companions to help me experience all of this.

My little brother Cage proposed to Savanna, by the way, and she said yes.

this image
contains
dozens of stories
i have no words
for.