a fall transition
We had our first hint of winter yesterday. It was mitten weather, cold and damp after a week with the remnants of Sandy swirling wind, gray clouds, and rain showers over the area. The lake effect machine (Lake Erie in the north) was turned on, bringing rain at first. Big, fat snowflakes joined in, reminding us that winter weather will soon take over.
through the grass
sunlight plays on water
dancing in autumn
Summer has been busy and I’ve once again been ignoring this blog. It’s harvest season as I write this so I can’t make promises to post regularly just yet, but coming back here every now and then is a little like coming home.
Autumn is my favorite of the seasons. The cooler weather always makes me want to dance. 🙂
the crunch and slide
under my barefoot shoes
reflected on muddy water
a day at the beach
The photo was taken on my recent trip to the Canadian Maritimes at Dennis Beach in New Brunswick. I altered the photo, giving it a painting-like effect, in FotoSketcher. I’ve had it sitting here as my desktop image for a few days and every time I look at it, I hear and feel the crunch and squeak of rocks underfoot as I carefully make my way across the larger rocks down to the sand where walking is much easier. The “barefoot shoes” are Vibrams which simulate barefoot walking. You feel everything underfoot without the ouch factor of actually being barefoot.
rambling, chattering mind
moving off in all directions at once
words, words, and more words
vast, empty, barren
crowded, jammed, overflowing
i got nothin’
A small stone for day 24.
I can’t tell if there is too much going on in my head or nothing at all. This was the best I could do today. The photo is from last year’s winter trip to Erie, Pennsylvania. Lake Erie was frozen. The stretch of white and blue was vast and appeared empty from a distance, but once my eyes adjusted to the almost monochromatic scene, details started to appear and I could see that there was a lot going on.
How to hike in the Bogs: Take deep, deep belly breathes. Right down to your toes. Place one foot in front of the other. Step, slip, slide, pull, be grateful your boots are so firmly attached you can escape the suction of the mud trying to draw you down into the wet earth without leaving a boot or two behind. Smile. A lot. Sing. Listen to the birds answer your song. A walking stick is useful but not essential. Accept and enjoy the mud, the puddles, and the overall bogginess. Stop and admire the reflection of the sun and tree branches in the melting ice. Walk slowly. Magic happens. You’ll miss it if you move too fast.
Daily walks are an adventure lately. Between the record setting rainfall in 2011 and the melting of the foot or so of snow we had last week, the ground is soggy. The top photo was processed in Photoshop. It’s one of those trails through the woods where magic happens.
Sun and tree branches reflected in the melting ice.
The air is crisp and cool, biting on the inhale, an underlying essence of pine carried by the breeze in the coniferous forest. Sunlight streams through the trees, misty from the thawing snow and ice. Traversing the swampy and unstable pathways, we tread carefully, occasionally getting mired in the mud. A joyful January ramble in the woods.
The photo and thoughts are from a hike I took with my husband yesterday. I’m semi-disconnecting on Sundays and scheduled this to stand in for me until I return on Monday. A small stone for day 8.
bubbling, babbling, burbling
the gurgling gush of the January thaw
water sprites splashing in the stream
Because we have not had a proper winter — lots of rain, warm weather, and very little in the way of ice and snow — I hesitated to use the term January Thaw, but it is January and the snow and ice from the past few days is quickly thawing as it warms up again. Good enough. 🙂
Winter falls silently across the morning,
a blanket of snow stretches over the dreaming earth.
Unmarked paths of white wait in quietude.
My January 3rd small stone, tossed into the river.
I found this difficult to do today, and had many thoughts about giving up. It is almost impossible, it seems to me, to capture in words or photos the beauty of the first big snowfall, when the world is hushed and the snowflakes waltz down from the sky, romancing the earth before covering her in winter’s white and sparkling jewels and clothing.
Paint Mines Interpretive Park. Calhan, Colorado. August 2010.
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.
~ T. S. Eliot
I’m not sure I have many followers here at Bountiful Healing anymore. I’ve let the blog stagnate, occasionally bringing back the posts I set to private when I thought I might be shutting this place down.
I have found, though, that this blog doesn’t want to be shut down. I’m drawn back to it from time to time. This is one of those times. Some of the plans and challenges I have coming up might require the morning attitude adjustment this blog brought to me. I might also find it a good place to play, just as I did in the past. It can’t be all seriousness all the time.
In keeping with fresh starts, I’ve redecorated a little. It was a strange thing, changing the theme. I’ve used that theme since the beginning of Bountiful Healing. It will be fun seeing what I can do with the new one, but I suspect I’ll miss the old one every now and then (especially during those times I’m not sure what I’m doing with the features on the new one). I will continue to bring back some of the old posts as well, little by little. I’ve resisted doing it all at once because I know it causes tons of emails to be released to those who have email subscriptions. Slow and steady ought to do it, for the blog as well as the plans and challenges I’ll be dealing with soon.