1.4.14 Baby, It's Cold Outside

-15•. Hmmm. 

We may no longer have 

waist deep snowstorms, 

but baby, it's cold outside.

12.9.13 All Over Again

I went by my cousin's new stained glass studio; then wandered about one of those old brick factories, enormous and meandering, labyrinthian, really. Artists and writers and creators at every turn. Filled you with remarkable ideas and unusual paintings and crafts, like a fine dinner with an exquisite wine. 

Sated, I left the building in the newly frigid cold, glanced up at the sky, and there, was this.

Oh, I know. There are sunsets and sunrises and sky clouds and all sorts of things all the time. All the time. On Instagram, which I did have fun frequenting for a bit, there were nice people to social-media-wise get to know, who would share photographs of skies and sunsets and their lives and other remarkable things, from Africa and Dubai and Norway and Argentina, and we would comment on each other's photos, and I would just sit there, awash, with the sheer volume of different and changing sunsets, or cloud formations, the world over. That shift and change and change again as you stand and watch, in wonder, feeling more like you are watching someone you are getting to know, by watching, than some old cloud passing by on some old everyday. 

So I wandered over toward my car, and of course, watched this whomever, who had a refrain waaay back that you cannot see in this shot. Still, so many different songs in one sky production at one time, and of course, then, is simply passes by . Overhead. Noone really seems to see. Or looked up, shocked, at the sight.

But there you have it. We in our busy busy lives.

I once learned a great deal about busy lives and anxiety and choices, the real time choices we have, if we care to become a bit quiet and watch and feel and allow things to digest and go. Here is a story of a dear one who gave me that gift.

Once I knew and loved  a client and eventually friend, in her late 80's.

Clairvoyant, English, a poet, living those very tough times we often live at that time of life.

So I was her Shepherd, and would visit her at rehab  post stroke places and call and hassle her offspring for her needs and would go by her home when she was released, sometimes with the phone on the blink, nice home, mattress terrible, and align her spine and carry her in her meal and do a few other things and listen to the loveliness of her self.

But one thing I noticed was how stressed she was by all there was to do.

She had no job and all day and difficulty with many things, but the sense of urgent distress

was, to me, a choice.

And as I watches and listened and loved her, I saw this in her, and then in myself. A gift.

That you can truly have many many things and plates spinning and lives at stake...or  you can have choices. And its our choice to become aware that shifts us from one state to another.

Which means, our bodies are allowed, with a sigh of relief, to shift from

the pretense of terrible, horrible, urgent stress...wringing hands and all...

to a state of choice. Of real acknowledgement of what would be good and helpful and important and at times urgent, and to make our way to being capable of sitting with that. The whole Yes thing all over again.

Yes, the smallest kid needs shoes.

Yes, the electric bill is late.

Yes, the tires are a bit bald.

Yes, I fall into bed like the dead!

Yes, I wonder why our country is still at war.

Yes, I hope school/work/clients are not cancelled tomorrow.

Yes, I can sit at the window after I finish......

and sit and breathe. Slowly. Deeply. Quietly.

And just watch the little noisy Sentry inside of me

bark , shrill, about one thing after another.

My failings.
My regrets.

The things that must needs be done.

And I can sit back and see it all, and watch it come through me,

the great sadness,

the grief,

the rage,

the frustration..

and then watch it float away like a cloud.

And then I am clear. Lighter. 

Things look far simpler.

The facts all the same.
But the silly untrue anxiety soaked take on it?

Gone for a bit.

Til it's time to sit again. 

And watch the night sky 

and the treetops in the wind

and let all the things

get felt and then released

all over again. 

12.9.13 Tolerating Beauty and Wonder

Sometimes I just walk outside,
or turn the corner driving the car,
or head past an old Oak in my yard,
and it just blows me away.

I guess taking a photograph
is a way of tolerating ,
what to me ,
is overwhelming wonder
and beauty,
all day, every day.

Sometimes it's hard to
get somewhere
there are so many large
and small amazements

singing their small moss
or sunset
or stand of trees
refrains.


Hadley Fields
Wildlife Sanctuary Sunset

12.10.13 Our Small Miraculous Earth

As the finalmente arrived, 

shifting threads of color changing 

across more NEWLY added wildlife protected lands. 

As our small miraculous earth 

shifted once more, 

the day darkened 

and came to an end, 

and we all went home 

to quiet heart and mind 

and snuggle warm into bed.

12.12.13 One Winter's Story

After kabonging around the house and no car to go walk on leash somewhere new, I decided there was enough snow on the fields to buffer us from our tick neighbors. 

So at twilight the pup and I set out over the field, first time since last winter for me, so pretty exciting . First time for him to be allowed to wander out of the yard. 

As we crunched our way to the tip top of the rise, all of which is really a steep foothill of the range, tumbling down ,since ,forever to the wide Connecticut, we paused. 

I know there's a beautiful large basalt rock that's probably been in that spot for a long long time, and we stood upon it and watched the deepening twilight, the brightening moon, the transforming sunset shifting from one flavor to another, to yet another. 

Below us in the ravine, someone sizable was walking along near the stream bed, as you could hear the cracking of the ice with each step . 

Dante and I both stood, stock still, breathless, looking in the direction, listening. 

The small wind was moving from behind us to whomever was traversing the ravine, so they had both heard our crunching up across the field, Dantolicious's crazed leaping about, and me showing him coyote paw prints to snuffle. 

Seems a good thing to get to know both your neighborhood, and your neighbors. 

Yesterday I saw that, for the second night in a row, the lone cub had wandered very independently from the two adults and one adolescent, round the back of the cottage, while the rest simply like to cut between the houses for some reason . 

Course, every reasoning begins with survival, so every choice they make, save when the pickings are plentiful and bellies full, involves first and foremost survival . 

The sun set further , illuminating the plowed furrows of the land, curving in snow clad lines round the edge of the field, as we walked a bit further uphill toward the road, me keeping a relaxed but careful eye out for company in the deepening night. 

The lights in the house gleamed before the puffs of our breath in the air before us , as we circled 

about the house, happily catching sight of teenaged Possum paw prints , with the adorable small trail of the tail right beside. 

Back inside, little old Shiva raised her head from her perch on the bed, catching the scent of all that delicious fresh air, as I unbuckled the young one, went up the few steps to her , ruffled her beautiful old miniature Husky fur, and slipped her collar on, a sure sign of a venture outside. 

She leaps up happily, gets her footing I help her head in the right direction, using my hip to press the ever enthusiastic, dangerously coned pup away from her. Assist her dow
n the three steps, stick on the leash, and with nary a look behind ( at the sad pup) off we go. 

To wherever she wants to walk and snuffled and wander, for however long she wants to, the sweet old queen.

12.13.13 Where The Coyote Traverse

Down in the outwaters 

by the Connecticut, 

where the coyote traverse, 

once the summer visitors

 stop wandering by

12.18.13 I Think It's Nice...

I think its nice to take photos 

because there are so many beautiful things 

and moments 

that I want to be able 

to see again 

and again 

and again.