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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 

Baker is home

Baker is home

I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on summer humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives. 

~ Ann Voskamp
 

We bring Baker home and my heart is full of gratitude and joy. He weighs all of six pounds and gives great kisses. His day is full. He naps on the way home in his new kennel and once home he explores the yard, then goes inside and takes another nap. He then eats dinner, goes back outside with Dad, comes in, and takes a nap. He plays a bit inside with his new toys, goes out to potty and then comes in and takes another nap. He comes when we call (but we know that is just a fluke), We are both smitten. 

The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.
— Samuel Butler
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I think a lot about Basil, and how he turned me into a dog person. I thank him for that, for dogs are just about perfect I think. 

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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

how was your week?
the rest of mine is just a memory, 
xooox

how it begins

how it begins

a rare sunset

a rare sunset