7.25.14

resting place

colorado; absolutely no filter, nothing at all.

3.21.14

 

new new home number 29

i'm remembering the simple joys of looking at a blank space, or a badly decorated space and picturing how much better it could be with a little of this, or a little of that.  many things about my life are still scattered and uncertain, but using what is here and now, this little bird is nesting, and feeling satisfied with the results.

3.16.14

come on

look at this little dummy.

3.1.14

happy march babies!

look at my costa rican dog, embracing his colorado lifestyle.

2.28.14

wonderland

2.27.14

sunrise

snow makes everything magical.

2.26.14

zephyr's first snow

once he realized it wasn't dangerous, zephyr actually liked playing in the snow.  but his favorite part was coming back in by the fire.  that made him really happy.

2.25.14

little boxes

2.23.14

sunflower

2.21.14

dead grass

2.20.14

dead roses

it's a bit hard, but i'm trying to find the beauty in dead things again.  i'm out of practice.

1.27.14

3 coyote day

adios america, may we meet again under better weather conditions.

1.23.14

good news day

"and i feel i have something very serious and urgent to say to you, my non-existent reader, and i feel i should say it as urgently as if i were standing in the room with you.  that life -- whatever else it is -- is short.  that fate is cruel but maybe not random.  that nature (meaning death) always wins but that doesn't mean we have to bow and grovel to it.  that maybe even if we're not always so glad to be here, it's our task to immerse ourselves anyway:  wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open.  and in the midst of our dying, as we raise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what death doesn't touch."

- donna tartt, the goldfinch

1.22.14

snow day

7.23.13

hello erie

7.8.13

fringes

2.22.13

new home number 29

abmigration location

"....it's cold here; very, very cold and my years as a fair weather, long distance migrant have thinned my skin.  all the adaptation to sub-freezing temperatures has been beached out of me.  i. am. freezing.  it's been snowing pretty much everyday since i got here and i have spent most of my time inside.  the snow is beautiful.  but it's vicious.

this home is not the obvious choice for me; not warm, not exotic, not fraught with adventure, not unique in form or design.  it's comfortable and cozy and sparsely decorated.  it is a stopping point.  a mountain nest on a trans-global migration map.  true we're here in the wrong season and my feathers are ruffled.  there is in fact only one thing that could draw me back up to this altitude at this time of year.  love.  it's his nest by necessity and therefore mine by choice...."