We are currently under a winter storm warning in Portland. I await enchanting first flakes– very few of which we have had so far this year. Perhaps it seems much ado about nothing for someone who grew up with four foot snow drifts to rollick about in, to play the brave explorer with three layers of clothing– but we will see. I know may parts of the USA have suffered very recently the bitter cold and dangerous snowfall.
In the meantime, enjoy a few photos that not long ago indicated a different change of temperature–as it often does here this time of year. I will have patience–both for a velvety swath of snow and for a flourishing of flowers.
And there have been hints of an unfolding of tender jewels of springy blossoms amid more hearty wintery ones…
Marc and I were going to the beach for a mini break before we move– but nature changed our plans. We are now immersed in the many and sometimes arduous tasks that go along with packing and preparing to leave one place for another–but there are hot teas and tasty treats to keep us going.
Wherever you are, may your week-end bring safety and satisfying–even happy–moments!
I don’t have major travel plans this winter but I need a break from our saturated, chilly January in the Pacific NW. So, I went in search of sunnier climes with suitable diversions captured in photos of years past. Viola! I found sunshine in one lovely visit to Florida–just the remedy for moderate winter drear, chock full of happy memories, too. Many pictures were taken on Pine Island, a touristy but fun spot. Enjoy!
(And in memory of 2 family members lost to us in 2018: Sherril and Beth.)
A late afternoon in November, home territory. Walking as one is meant to, arms swinging, head swiveling from this to that, feet sure and frisky on leaf-strewn sidewalks. A veil of frostiness overlays an opulent sunshiny sky. The taste and sight of all is clear to the tongue, bright on the retinas. I can feel the atomic life within each cell, a complexity of heat and light as it stirs, an energy of miracles. Brain to heart to sinew fires frissons of electricity.
I look up. Sky cradles a moon that silences the blueness, a small signal of dusk shading transparency. Cold dashes my face, snaps at my heels, scours thoughts. Red and orange, blue and green and yellow: this coloration of life is like a buffet of delicacies, a sustenance of happiness, I think. Spirit billows and thins, a swinging door from earth to universe, all that imbues this day. I gorge myself on aliveness.
The high nests are brittle, birds on the wing gone to exotic places, to beauty of other trees. Except for the crows who cannot bear to leave, and tend to one another, mark my passing with shrill greetings. Suddenly I long for cardinals flaring against wintry plains, festooning treetop bony limbs with their artful attention and a promise of hope, rejuvenation, celebration. I blink at fiery leaves in piles and see strong wings rustling. The birds of my childhood left long ago and yet they still sing.
My lungs fill with this gorgeous air, then my throat closes on a sprinkling of tears: that elegance of snow in Michigan, which fell like manna, yes. And, too, a shroud that nonetheless glistened as it shielded the dead. A desolation of white finery, the land stark but at peace. We attended the grave site as shy visitors, more speechless than prayerful, knowing you were aloft by then. What has exited cannot be called back. And who would want to? This amazement of our doing and being is a sliver of the whole. You are no longer akimbo in the midst of the chaos. But free, yes, that was what you awaited.
The new snow, a veil of tenderness, its cold melted by our soft breath and warmth of this skin that keeps us intact, whole, as long as needed. We touched one another lightly, fragile in the chill and emptiness. Reminded of ties that bind tightly in life, so loosely at the end and we fail to accept either sometimes.
But here, as I continue my blissful Oregon walk, so empty of snow, of dying, of grief, I find all the gifts of the day and its messages: Be not forgetful of the abundance given. Be not greedy for more. Be not angry at loss, for out of loss also comes renewal. Be not wistful for what is done and gone. Be not quick to forge barriers where none are even needed. Be never afraid to live life with passionate love of its entirety. For we are alive this long and no longer.
Be in this momentary grace, treetops whisper as they play catch with the moon, they who see much, keep secrets.
This late afternoon of dying leaves and glow of moon and remembrance of snow, heart deeply beating, body tall and strong, spirit and mind leveraged by a persistent joy. For all of this, I am grateful.
Come along on a fall Halloween-y mosey in my neighborhood! I have fixed the glitch regarding the pictures from last week. I’m sorry there were issues with them, but. today I revamped the post. Enjoy a brief walk through Irvington –though my daily walk today was rainy, muted with an also lovely autumn grayness. This will not stop the Oregonian kiddos and others tonight as they make the rounds for tricks or treats!