the morning dawns under cover, accompanied by a steady drumbeat of rain. a low ceiling, not quite grey and not quite white. throughout the day this curtain rises and falls, its feathered hem revealing glimpses of the mountains beyond. raindrops drip off leaves and eaves, steady; an invitation to meditation. while i long, on the … Continue reading rhubarb in the rain
the neighbor mows his lawn and the air smells sweet; later, spicy as rain releases the balm of creekside cottonwoods. thunder rumbles low, a child’s laughter peals. we dance to silly songs and play outside with rocks and sticks. the sun feels hot on my arms for the first time this season. backlit illumination on … Continue reading spring things, little things (and cacao cinnamon cashew bites)
Winter rain, now tell me why, Summers fade, and roses die.The answer came; the wind and rain.Golden hills, now veiled in grey, Summer leaves have blown awayNow what remains? The wind and rain. — Weather Report Suite, The Grateful Dead I’ve felt this before. The disorientation, the tumbling, not knowing which way is up. The … Continue reading weather report (and cheater chana masala)
waking up this sunday morning; a sunday morning, in some ways, like every one that has come before. outside a silver disc of sun presses through steely clouds; fine-grained snow pelts the trees standing tall in the 2-degree air. and yet. for those generations of humankind walking the earth today, this sunday morning has no … Continue reading grinding to a halt
the last days of february bring with them an ennui, a longing. a yen for color and life and warmth. elsewhere in the country, signs of spring begin to emerge: green shoots, buds swelling on trees, perhaps even a flower. as another snow squall descends, blotting out the world, one line from robert service loops … Continue reading holding pattern (and raspberry vanilla granola)
driving over ice-glazed roads under a sky quilted white, seams stitched with blue. contemplating the state of the world, which, perhaps, isn’t the way to start the week off right. instead, back home, i focus on the criss-cross maze of deer tracks etched across the snow. last night i was awakened by the resounding clang … Continue reading still (and oat & almond pancakes)
ensconced inside walls of glass and wood, a human-scale snow globe, the world outside awash in white. flakes falling steadily: sometimes heavily, fat and lacy, thick in the damp air. sometimes urgently, more granular, staccato pellets rushing to meet the ground and clattering against interfering windows. sometimes en masse, so dense that the scene fades … Continue reading snow (and maple peanut butter fudge)
and january is gone, just like that, sliding into the shortest month of the year. february, to me, will always be the month-of-the-garden-catalog. arriving in the mailbox, pages a-shimmer with pinks and oranges and yellows and greens; splashes of color to liven the imagination when the world outside reflects only shades of grey. reminding us … Continue reading february (and buckwheat buttermilk cinnamon rolls)
black rollers, waves tumbling in;poised to unleash onto the low-lying hills.two dozen birds, inky silhouettes burst from a tree and wheel straight up,then bank sharply to the south. * * * * * * * * * * a blue curtain hanging down,grazing the tops of foothillsrich gold from a new sunthat has found entry … Continue reading clouds of winter (and oatmeal raisin cookies)
There were daysAnd there were daysAnd there were days I knowWhen all we ever wantedWas to learn and love and grow — The Grateful Dead, Days Between January days in a state of in-between. In-between the frenetic pace of the holidays and the longer days of spring; in-between relief that the busyness is over and … Continue reading january days (and teff & oat biscuits)
