May 2012

For instants

Here I am, all ready to write about instants of life that have us smiling lately. One teensy problem? It’s afternoon. And what good writer doesn’t abide by the excuse that no good writing happens in the afternoon. So I will just pick up that excuse, although I shouldn’t, since it is just as tantalizing as the neon-red strawberries I also shouldn’t have picked up this afternoon for $7.99. I will just say right here that the photos and words in this post will just have to abide together, even tho…


Good things

He said I was myself again there. Something in the air there opens me up and lets me free to see and hold and feel, and then bring it all into myself. He was right. The rich, tangy singe of wood-burning on the wind welcomed us, and all weekend, the rains and mists that make mountains so mystical fell. The lodge of full, barked trunks beckoned with quilts, porches, and a warm fireplace. I’d forgotten the pleasure of quiet, dark sleep, and the magic of waking up to birdsong. What I’d waited for—op…