august scenes

August is the poignant month of mixed feelings. There is that sense of summer winding down and the approaching return to the straighter laces of fall.  And yet, the land is so ripe and rich with growth and color, the air layered with sound: the buzz of insects, the call of birds, the crunching about on the forest floor.  Even when it’s thick and silent, the ever-changing clouds seem to fill that space with a visual song of their own.

 

 

 

quiet times

I’ve been at a loss for words for so long; feeling quiet and introspective, wondering when my voice will return…

Even so, I look around to find what’s there, reading faces inanimate and living, looking to see what they might reveal…

Some faces are serene, some are intent.  Others are smug and inscrutable.  In the end, it’s just a puzzle.

captures & captions

early morning,
still dark outside
shadows and light inside,
game face on,
and the week goes by.

green bottles,
gifts from friends
hold feathers of all sizes.
feathers of all sizes,
gifts from
hawk,
turkey,
bluejay,
grackle,
crow…
hold messages of love and hope and trust.

trees laden with fruit,
dropping
pods
nuts
seeds
to wait for Spring

there’s magic
here,
there,
and everywhere.

here you are (metaphors, second person)

Boxed in, tired of  spending your days putting people into boxes so they can go out into the world and fit into more boxes…

 Imagining what it would be like to just break the rules…

 … and unravel this web that’s woven with the dull, thick, coarse threads of duty and obligation…  to weave a new web with delicate fibers that let the light shine through, a web created with calling and passion… 

 

“The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.” — Mary Oliver

 

But you already know that, don’t you…