Gardening + Nature

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Snow!

Happy Snow Day, Portland! And for everyone in the country with heaps and tons and more and more and more snow than you ever care to see again in your lifetime, my apologies. For the first time since we moved here from Denver fifteen years ago, I am happy for this snow, even asked for it to come. I will take any bit of moisture at the moment. It’s been so very dry here that I often feel like I am back in Denver, with static electric hair, shocks in stocking feet, and genuine sunrises and sunsets, not just the hours where the clouds diffuse slightly more light before going darker still.

I got up early to go out in the quiet, me and the birds, mostly, and a few paw prints out in the side yard. I walked down to the park, snow a pleasant crunch under my feet. There were a couple of sledders getting ready to enjoy the hill, and I wished for a sled myself. Back home to shovel the walk and eat hot from the oven homemade sticky buns that I started last night, though they turned out a tad too sweet.

Oh, and the sun’s just popped out of the clouds! Time for more pictures!

May you have a marvelous day…

Sunday morning, not terribly early, but new enough to witness a hoary frost. I had a strange night, waking three times, once after a dream, the variety where I thought I was awake, my body gazing upon the glow of street lamps stealing through drawn curtains. I heard rain and was absolutely delighted, the ground hard and dry from its lack. But the gentle patter soon turned into a deluge and began to inundate our house, so I dashed out of bed and was hit by a wall of water, beautiful with rectangular flashes of white light that grabbed me by the wrists and kept me from swimming. I awoke to the tender prodding of the hubster, saying he heard an awful whimper. Oh dear, did we have a good cuddle after that.

I am loving my new camera! It takes a bobby dazzler of a photo and has so many new-to-me features. I shall be busy with it for ages and ages, frittering the time enchanted by all my view finder reveals, the world on glorious display. I forget the cold, the hour, and start at the voice of another soul. “Good morning neighbor, how are you?”

Presently listening to My Morning Jacket (do you know their cover of Rocket Man? The best!), while pondering a funny day. Normally, I am the resident dervish, cleaning, cooking, talking, and dancing about, but yesterday, in an amusing and quite unusual turn, my presence was feather light and spare. The hubster, on the other hand, did laundry, vacuumed, mopped, took down the holiday decor, baked brownies (a first), and even uttered a few very Colleen witticisms! Kooky! And, as I was contemplating it, he said, “You are quiet today, Buddy. Are you okay?” To which I planted a jubilant kiss on his delicious cheek and giggled and made a reference to Freaky Friday, one of my favorite movies as a kid. Shall I dare put it in the Neflix queue? Oh, yes!

So there you have it, my Sunday, random and sundry as it was. Hoping yours was lovely or silly and always fun!

 

knitting & needle(s) in the blue light of dawn

my favorite reading chair

pillow

often left speechless by the artistry of creation

One Community is a monthly project in which participants photograph their homes and community with a theme in mind. The goal is to both showcase similarities and differences in our communities worldwide – and bring us all closer together in understanding through art.

Would you like to join us? Post one or more photos for each of the theme words, needle, chair, pillow, and speech, chosen by Eduarda, and add your blog post to the link-up. Easy! It began yesterday, December 5th, and stays open for one week.

Snap happy!

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 A million thanks to Veterans and their families, for all you have given, for all you continue to give.

Come January, or maybe even in two weeks time, I want to remember this morning and my skin kissed by sun. Under the wet cloak of dark, let me unearth this ripe with fall light and the tip-toe stalking of everything that caught it. Let me feel gratitude for the acid radiance of faded glorybower leaves. The dewy fuschia and indigo of her fruit. The sunset berries of cotoneaster. The lemony yarrow. The fiery glow of near falling currant leaves. The crisp white of cotton on the line. And how the warbling, tweeting birds danced, dipped, dove, and flapped under a firmament of blue.

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