5.19.16 It's as if

 the universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them." 

           Elizabeth Gilbert

 

5.19.16 The retreating day

After sitting outside ,to bid goodbye 
to the retreating day

 

5.19.16 Just like this.

Rather astounding evening, the colors just like this. We just sat there and watched it change and morph and change,as the light shifted and the earth turned. The colors truly like this.

5.18.16 Sweeping into town

Bright and early,the sunlight sweeps into town

 

5.18.16 That's why I sleep today; oh!

Wake up you sleepy head; there's a lot of work to do
But the sleepyhead says 'Not today-
Tomorrow I'll work for you .
Tra la lalalala
I'll do my work tomorrow
Tra la lalalala
That's why I sleep today; oh!'
         Pippy Longstocking

 

5.17.16 Teeny Weeny mineature cards

Little tiny itsy bitsy teeny weeny 
quickie miniature cards.

6.16.16 May my ease be your ease.

People write. They reach out over the expanse of space and their own time.

They say that visiting the pictures and the words is like going to have a little time off, in an alternate universe, or maybe just a small quiet place in this universe, where there are no wars and no poverty, and there isn’t a problem with your bills or your roof, the pain in the butt person at work or the challenge your kid is facing that has you stumped.

That the tiny place where there are these moons and trees and thoughts and stories and small skies and hawks and one black Shepherd and ideas, they know, are taking place on the same earth as wherever they live.

 In all sorts of countries and continents and by arid beautiful flat lands or in bustling complex cities with small places of small blossoms and big buildings and stoops.

They say that there is something about knowing that today, or yesterday, or the magic of possibly even right now, the words and pictures convey some kind of connection, between people. Some days even between all things.

They say that most of all, the words and pictures are quiet and soothing.

That they are helpful at the beginning or the end of a day. To tie things up gently, and lay cares off on a shelf, to be simply with the simple enough. So they can land and breathe and fall asleep everywhere at home.

That sometimes here there are hints of great struggles, but that only means they are not struggling alone, off in their own lives of chaos or isolation or deep fatigue or confusion or lament.

They are struggling while the life here in the words and pictures does so also.

That here, there is no election and no strife in town politics and no dissenting beliefs or stance.

There are no big bad things happening in this small place; only the sweep of the wind and the continual rotation of the earth, as the seasons shift and change, the wildlife and ground cover take turns coming into fruition, and time slowly moves on.