spring things, little things (and cacao cinnamon cashew bites)

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)

grinding to a halt

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

february (and buckwheat buttermilk cinnamon rolls)

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)

rain and strawberries

Easter morning clouds swirl low over the mountains, encircling peaks in wreathing mist, tumbling down to the valley floor. The air heavy with damp and chill, mingled with the green of emerging vegetation and the sweet of woodsmoke. Yesterday a storm front rolled through, moving slow and steady, gracing us with a symphony of thunder … Continue reading rain and strawberries