“Be joyful because it is humanly possible.”
― Wendell Berry
Amongst the errands, I manage some time alone to walk down by the lake. I find I don’t need hours to explore, I just need to get out for a bit. For if I approach life with the right attitude, I can always find something that brings me joy.
I sit by the back door, camera in hand, and watch the birds. The sun is out, the sky is blue and I feel myself relax into this time alone, untethered to nothing more than what I see before me. I am, for a few minutes anyway, in my own little world, doing just what I want to do. I am reminded by my friend Donna in this beautiful post, that this is what this season in my life is all about.
I am getting better at waking with the whole day ahead of me and filling it with things I want to do, rather than things I think I need to do, be it for myself or others. I am getting better at asking myself, “How can I . . . ?” instead of “Can I …?” I am getting better at giving myself time to just be, allowing some room to consider what might be.
I was pleased with this little series I captured one morning of this black-eyed junco. It is almost as if she was telling me something. She landed, considered her options. and then turned her back on me and flew off. She had other things planned for her day, and I appreciated that.
A dog comes to you and lives with you in your own house, but you do not therefore own her, as you do not own the rain, or the trees, or the laws which pertain to them ... A dog can never tell you what she knows from the smells of the world, but you know, watching her, that you know almost nothing. . .
-Mary Oliver
Each week I take a photo of Baker and post it in a group on flicker. The group is full of like-minded dog lovers who like to take photographs of their pups. I almost always wait until the last minute to take the photo (it has to be posted by the end of Sunday each week), but Baker is always willing to pose, especially if there are treats involved. Baker is a fun subject to photography. He has tons of personality, and I try to bring that out when I photograph him, but I often get hung up on his eyes, his sweet face, and his heart shaped nose. This is week 1-9.
Here are some facts about Baker::
he is a 15 inch tri-colored beagle
he is four years old
he is our second beagle, our first one we acquired via one of our sons, when he took a job out of the country
he is named after Mount Baker, which is a beautiful mountain in our neck of the woods
he is scent driven, making it hard to let him run free
he sleeps with us, yes, sometimes under the covers
he is very stubborn, but also gut-guided so we always have a treat on hand
he can be a bit emotional, pout if the house is full of people or other dogs
he can be fast asleep in the other part of the house and hear the cheese being unwrapped in the kitchen
Baby Baker
In my life I have taken hundreds of photos of tulips. Here are two more.
The hardest part is deciding on a color. Yesterday, I chose yellow.
As human beings, we, by the definition of our very natures, can never be perfect. This means that as long as we are alive and kicking, we can be improving ourselves. No matter our age, if we always have a project to which we can apply ourselves, then we will wake up every day with an objective, something productive to get done. This allows us to go to bed at night in the peaceful knowledge that we have done some good, gained some achievement, however small.”
- Nick Offerman
“Though it was the end of February, the day was a lazy sort of cold. The sun slipped through the cloud in bursts, reminding the landscape that it was still there, prodding snow piles to relax into puddles and stirring sleeping seeds under the ground.”
― Erika Robuck, Call Me Zelda
There were times in February that I wanted to just stick my head into something other than daily life to find something that moved me. Snow fell, the wind blew and the rain pelted us, many times all in the course of one hour. Even the dog got a bit bored. I read my way though the Bear Town series, watched Elvis, and fed my sourdough starter, although have yet to bake anything. February brought some normalcy back into life, gatherings with friends and family, eating out, and braving the store without a mask, which all felt pretty good. There were days spent with Percy, trips to the library, Valentine baking and lots of imaginary play. We said goodby to a dear friend, crying and laughing over lost memories, but coming out the other side with a deeper understanding of what is important in life.
Today I wake and it is March. I sit and watch the birds flirting at the feeder, and know beneath the sprinkle of snow and frost, the garden is coming to life. Deep within me I can feel the season start to shift, and with that shift comes enlightenment and anticipation.