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I believe that everything starts by paying attention. Life is imperfect and any magical light we can bring into our day is worthy of our gratitude. Laughter and love, joy and celebrations slip into our lives with ease but learning to cope with the deep pain life brings to us is also necessary. I do this best with my camera, chasing down light, zooming in and out and pairing it all with truth. 

I live in Western Washington with my husband of 40+ years, in the home where we raised our three sons. We share that home now with our sweet beagle named Baker.  

Thank you so much for stopping by. 

 

 ©Cathy Sly 2018 

hello summer

hello summer

“For Frank, music was like a garden – it sowed seeds in far-flung places. People would miss out on so many wonderful things if they only stuck with what they knew.” 
― Rachel Joyce, The Music Shop

The week feels like summer. The weather is up and down, but my small world is warm and green. We take the kayaks out one evening and the lake is so clear and warm I am mad I did not wear my suit. The lake is full of paddle-boarders, family picnics and fish rising. It is a perfect summer evening and I get off the lake thinking I need a waterproof case for my phone. 

Frank wanted a song that would arrive like a little raft and carry this man safely home.
— Rachel Joyce, The Music Shop

I think a lot about Basil as we get ready to bring Baker home next week.  We order a kennel, buy a few new puppy toys and a tiny collar. I wonder about hand-me-downs. Does he need his own blankets, his own bowl, his own leash?

I am overthinking this, and let it go. All he really needs is our love and we need his. 

We get a new front door and are both amazed how it changes the feel of our home. It brings the outside in and I like that.

I think about this home a lot lately; think about all the goodness and the pain that has come through that front door over the 30 some years we have been here. I think about growth and laughter and how there were times that door opened and closed fifty times a day and how now it is barely opened. 

There is a sadness to that, but also a comfort. Maybe comfort that has turned to passive resistance and I wonder if I have maybe taken this contentment thing a bit too far. 

I envision how it might look to let go of some of this comfort; to open up that door and move beyond this house in a real way. To maybe close the door behind me, and not look back. 

He was so sorry—so caught up in his quiet, safe loving that hurt no one, least of all himself—he failed to spot the one thing she was desperate for him to see.
— Rachel Joyce, The Music Shop
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Beginnings could happen more than once, or in different ways.
— Rachel Joyce

how was your week? 
xoox 

a rare sunset

a rare sunset

tiny vases

tiny vases