priming the heart

“I learned...that inspiration does not come like a bolt, nor is it kinetic, energetic striving, but it comes into us slowly and quietly and all the time,
though we must regularly and every day give it a little chance to start flowing, prime it with a little solitude and idleness.”

― Brenda Ueland

I stand and watch the light as it comes through the red maple outside our bedroom window, debating whether or not if I should grab my camera. I have taken a few hundred photos of light streaming through this tree in the three years we have lived here, and I have to ask myself if I really need another one.

I can’t let the light go however, and come back with my camera only to find I am too late and the light is gone. Over the next couple of days I study the tree a bit more closely, walking around it, noticing the time of day the light is best, and the details of the tree. I wonder what I might try within my camera to express why I am drawn so to this light. Wanting to get beyond the beauty of what I see and reaching instead for the emotions that rise within me, I attempt a few images over the next few days. But somehow I can’t seem to get it, and am disappointed when I upload the images to my computer.

It is only when I stop trying so hard and let go of the focus some by allowing my camera to move and flow a bit, that my heart begins to race.

what if everyday could be more like thursdays

“When we treat children's play as seriously as it deserves, we are helping them feel the joy that's to be found in the creative spirit. We're helping ourselves stay in touch with that spirit, too. It's the things we play with and the people who help us play that make a great difference in our lives.”

- Fred Rogers

He comes every Thursday to play for the day. A full day to have him all to ourselves. An excuse to play, look for deer, read books, dig in the sandbox, have a tea party, and roll on the floor. Yesterday Grandpa made dinosaurs with him so I could sit and take some photos.

His play is serious work and I am often surprised how both of us (meaning Grandpa and I) get into it. Hours pass with no screens of any kind, or the pull of getting things done around the house. All of that is put on hold, for we both feel this is just what we want to be doing.

What if every day could be a little bit more like Thursdays? Full of discovering and wonder, quiet time and joy. Today time flies by at record speed and often at the end of the day I find myself looking for something worth noting. But I am learning from him to play a bit more, to have fun without worrying what others may think, to rest when I need it, and to always say yes to joy.

heriloom pumpkins

“If, of all the seasons, there is a season in which a person completely forgets himself and constantly watches the magical environment, it is undoubtedly autumn!”

― Mehmet Murat ildan

the pumpkin farm

“Dear Great Pumpkin, Halloween is now only a few days away. Children all over the world await you coming. When you rise out of the pumpkin patch that night, please remember I am your most loyal follower. Have a nice trip. Don't forget to take out flight insurance.”

- Charles M. Schulz

We take him to the pumpkin farm. The weather is foggy and a bit misty and it is a perfect day for an orange tabby to roam the farm. We grab a wheelbarrow and watch as he chooses small pumpkins and gourds of various colors and shapes to place inside. We walk the farm, see the roster, and a chicken in a tree! We walk among the sunflower patch but just look at the corn maze. We sit on a bench when he declares he is done and have a snack. Before we go to the car to load up, he insists on one last walk through the farm, where he and I both add a couple more to the pile.

I took several photos, which will no doubt show up here soon.

the first days of october

October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen. It is the distant hills once more in sight, and the enduring constellations above them once again.

- Hal Borland

The sun is a constant companion on these first days of October.
The night sky full of so many stars, I can barely take them all in.
She is my favorite month, and I plan not to waste a moment.

longing

“The restlessness and the longing, like the longing that is in the whistle of a faraway train. Except that the longing isn't really in the whistle—it is in you.”

― Meindert DeJong, The Little Cow and the Turtle

I watch two scuba divers come to the surface of the tiny inlet and wonder what sights they might have had privy to below the surface of the water.
I walk among the weeds looking for signs of fall, and stop on my way out on the train tracks to take a photo.

My longing for beauty keenly satisfied, as dusk falls on this beautiful fall day.

this was September

September brings cooler nights and lovely days. We head out of town for our first vacation in over two years. We gather with old friends and family and celebrate a bit of normal. The garden overflows with goodness, but the weather is hot and dry and I make notes to try different varieties next year because our climate has changed, and I watch as our water bill sores.

Percy grows like a weed and surprises us all with how much he talks and understands everything we say. He spends Thrusdays with us, playing in the sandbox and eating all the cherry tomatoes in the garden.

I find a calmness in the passing of days, pausing often to take note of the beauty in the world. I feel the need to reach out more, to work on reconnecting with old friends, allowing myself to feel a bit vulnerable and strong at the same time.

I get better at picking up my camera, searching for pockets of light and going beyond the back yard to do so. There is no other purpose for this other than the peacefulness it brings to my being.

“That old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done,
obligations gathering, books and football in the air ... Another fall, another turned page:
there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning,
as if last year's mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.”
-Wallace Stegner