Saturday Still Life

Jam Jar Solar Light

best, e.

Made

....Small Acorn Pouch....

I made a little pouch

for Mother Nature's seasonal creations.

It is hanging in my

little craft room,

sewing room, 

junk room,

jam everything in there

because company is coming room.

It was hard to photograph,

as on the best of days

the light is limited.

But, the possibilities are endless.

Perhaps some lavender and rosemary

later on,

and in winter sprigs of fir and holly,

and always the humble dried weeds.

Her gifts are endless

and there will always be

Her magical reminders of each season.

Happy weekend, everyone.

best, e.

Gray, Grey

Yes, another rainy day.

More than rainy,

no shadows,

pewter sky,

determined Drenchness,

cold needles falling from flat clouds.

What clouds?

It's a solid ceiling of near black flannel sky.

Wood stove fired up again.

I need some color.

Sweet William and Mindless Knitting

of another dishcloth are

brightening my space.

I step outside the kitchen,

waiting for my old Newfoundland dog

to relieve herself.

She paces back and forth,

back and forth

as if to say,

"Where should I go,

where is the toilet, 

where is the exact and most perfect spot?"

I try to be patient.

After all, she deserves such respect.

I listen to the robin's song

and marvel at how

such dour and bland little birds

can send such a lovely

and heart wrenching song

out in to the air.

They always amaze me,

these harbingers of Spring and Summer.

There is such beauty in their voice,

a marvelous motet of joy.

When I see them hopping

on the ground

searching for worms,

they are so serious and intentional.

I picture the males

as having pocket protectors,

brief case under one wing,

and perhaps a spotted bow tie about their throats.

I imagine the females

clutching a carpet beater

or a duster,

one dimensional in their bounce

to and fro.

All seriousness and no fun.

But, I listen to their joyous notes,

their love songs for the season

and the world that they inhabit,

and I wonder.

Even on this gray, grey day

when I need to light the lamps at four o'clock

I can go outside

and stand under the eaves

and see the notes of song

they fling onto the flannel sky.

Rose red, sunflower yellows

and orange,

blueberry and Gentian blues,

the whiteness and brightness

of untraveled snow,

greens as glowing as early summer grass,

and the brightness of Sweet Williams

and mindless knitting,

button holed and feathered on to the low firmament.

Wishing you a bright and sunny week.

best, e.

Saturday Still Life

Reflections

....Mirrored bird nests....

....Truant Summer....

best, e.

No Title...

Apparently,

I was too late...and out too long.

Is he not beautiful?

All I can think about is the title;

Death Comes For the Archbishop.

Of course he is not an Archbishop

and he does not live in New Mexico.

But, I did find him.

I can call him a him

and celebrate his short life.

I can appreciate his loveliness

while thanking him for not nestling in my wool.

And, he is my Archbishop for right now.

best, e.

Dyeing To Try..

Kind and generous Mona

of JarDarMama

has encouraged me to try some

natural dyeing.

I wish that I could put up a link here

for both of her gorgeous blogs,

but it is not happening.

I encourage all to go to her sites.

Mona is a gifted artist, a steward of this earth,

and a loving, generous woman.

Here is my first attempt.

Dyed with Japanese Maple leaves...

I threw some rusty stuff in a big jar,

let it set for a few days, and then put maple leaves

in the jar and stuffed in the "scarfish" piece of cloth.

I thought that the resulting color

would reflect more of the red.

Not...but what a joy to try,

and what a mystery to see at the end.
It is definitely more of a greenish gray,
but still such a lovely color.

Thanks, Mona for your inspiration.

I hope to do some more in the coming weeks.
Thank you, dear Mona
for your encouragement and kindness to me.


best, e.

A Tree Fell In The Forest...

....and I wasn't there.

Minds of a Philosophical and Zen-ish bent

may question whether the tree made a sound,

or whether it existed.

Yesterday I was in those woods.
I took the following pictures
of fading wild flowers,
seed heads,
and bits of Nature that I cannot even
give a name to.

I know the fading lovely Bleeding Heart.
I know the Morning Glory bud.
I well know the Spittle Bug's Spit.
I know the Maple's wings.


Now, I know the Sound of One Hand Clapping.
I have always known the sound of two.
I could very well have been under that tree.
She was old, as I am.
She was ready to go and went
back to Mother Earth who gave her life.
I am definitely not ready,
but it comes to all.
Oh, this sounds depressing.
I do not mean it to be.
As far as I know,
I am just fine and fit
as a (Hush, Shssshsss)
Seventy Year Old.
(damn, there I said it!)


best, e.

p.s  this bit of disclosure about my age has been
difficult. I don't know why, because why should I 
be ashamed to be this age?
I am not ashamed.
I am amazed and very grateful.
I have had a longer life than my parents did,
and for that I have been very sad.
I lost them in my mid thirties.
I do, still feel as if I am twentish,
or on some days six or fifteen, twenty one,
or thirty.
It is only when I pass the mirror.
I wonder who that person is?
I cannot possibly be that woman.
I am still climbing trees and beating the
boys by running faster.
I can still climb the guava tree at home
and get up on the tall roof.
I can still break my older brother's finger
playing football with him.
I can still hop the rocks and dash amongst
the bamboo forest of our Manoa house 
in Hawaii.
Not really, as you know.
Some days, I think the Blogville
belongs to the young.
But then, I hear from you, my dearest readers,
and know that I am so blessed to have met
such beautiful and loving women that you all are.
Some days, I have such problems with computers
and this space.
But, I love it and feel proud that although
I am such a rotary dial girl, never had a lesson on a computer,
 I am doing o.k.
There are so many things I don't know how to do,
but this space and your goodness has been so wonderful.
And all of you who come here
are so very important to me.
With love, e.

Saturday Still Life

Rocker With Dust

Or how to avoid your chores.

It's hot,

at least for here.

Eighty degrees plus.

Maybe that is why

I am reduced to taking pictures

of my rocker.

best, e.

Sometimes...

..the back

is as beautiful as the front.

Wishing all a beautiful weekend.

best, e.

Wonders in the Weeds

It's a splendorours day.

Sunshine, blessed sunshine.

My heart sings.

best, e.