Glimpses of Life in Idaho

This past weekend was full of sociality and hubbub.
These are the moments of calm I managed to capture:

Few things are sweeter than big strong men handling babies of all persuasions.


My mountain man.

[the bright flames of Indian Paintbrush]
And all of creation is lit with the bright brush strokes of God’s hand.  The impasto is hard to miss, the artist’s touch is obvious and when He finished He stuck His paintbrush in the earth and called it good.

Lucy Goosie

A blog post dedicated to Ms Caroline of North Dakota who takes the time to send me frequent emails about what the sky and fields hold in her part of the country during migration seasons.
This goose is for you.

Yesterday:
A delightful afternoon spent with a Canadian Goose gosling at the local crags.  Unbeknownst to we, the mulch piles beneath the cliffs are currently a nesting ground for two pairs of Canadian honkers.  Most unfortunately, the Pocatello climbing community takes the liberty of using this climbing area as an off leash dog run while climbing the basalt cliffs.  Even more unfortunately, these dogs have been running loose and scattering the Canadian Goose families.  I think one mating pair has already lost all of their newly hatched family to the highway or dogs, these orphaned parents seem to be helping with the tending of the surviving goslings of the OTHER mating pair.  When we arrived at the Sunnyside, goslings were wandering all over the highway, separated from their family, cheeping in distress, confused and in great danger.  I grabbed this one, Lucy, and the fireboys and I took turns goosesitting until the parent geese appeared again with the rest of the (living) goslings they had managed to round up.  We set her free into the glad protection of her mother and father and went to rescue another of her kin from certain death on the highway.
The following photos are a collection of moments I managed to capture with my camera.  
Lucy the goose.  She’s ageless.  As young as the dawn.  As ancient as the air.
Enjoy:















:::POST SCRIPT:::
It’s amazing that in this world, while this innocence is stepping out into the green to begin with life, there are:
people finding and losing love
people being born and dying
wars being fought
peace being made
lies being told, truths being found
pen and ink spreading slowly across the faces of blank papers
suns setting and rising
the moon in and out of phases
There is this black and white.
Empty and full.
Good and evil.
And then other things, other things just ARE, as they always have been
and will be forever more.
I’m spinning with the change
I’m still with the steadiness.

:::PSS:::
Aren’t fluffy little goose bums precious?

Lucy Goosie

A blog post dedicated to Ms Caroline of North Dakota who takes the time to send me frequent emails about what the sky and fields hold in her part of the country during migration seasons.
This goose is for you.

Yesterday:
A delightful afternoon spent with a Canadian Goose gosling at the local crags.  Unbeknownst to we, the mulch piles beneath the cliffs are currently a nesting ground for two pairs of Canadian honkers.  Most unfortunately, the Pocatello climbing community takes the liberty of using this climbing area as an off leash dog run while climbing the basalt cliffs.  Even more unfortunately, these dogs have been running loose and scattering the Canadian Goose families.  I think one mating pair has already lost all of their newly hatched family to the highway or dogs, these orphaned parents seem to be helping with the tending of the surviving goslings of the OTHER mating pair.  When we arrived at the Sunnyside, goslings were wandering all over the highway, separated from their family, cheeping in distress, confused and in great danger.  I grabbed this one, Lucy, and the fireboys and I took turns goosesitting until the parent geese appeared again with the rest of the (living) goslings they had managed to round up.  We set her free into the glad protection of her mother and father and went to rescue another of her kin from certain death on the highway.
The following photos are a collection of moments I managed to capture with my camera.  
Lucy the goose.  She’s ageless.  As young as the dawn.  As ancient as the air.
Enjoy:















:::POST SCRIPT:::
It’s amazing that in this world, while this innocence is stepping out into the green to begin with life, there are:
people finding and losing love
people being born and dying
wars being fought
peace being made
lies being told, truths being found
pen and ink spreading slowly across the faces of blank papers
suns setting and rising
the moon in and out of phases
There is this black and white.
Empty and full.
Good and evil.
And then other things, other things just ARE, as they always have been
and will be forever more.
I’m spinning with the change
I’m still with the steadiness.

:::PSS:::
Aren’t fluffy little goose bums precious?

Ending the week:

Yesterday:
Springing about town.
Leaping in the twilight.

Running my favorite 5 mile loop up on the West Bench with both dogs…digging into my winter energy stores and feeling the wind under my wings.
A bee.
Turning the earth in the gardens.
Transplanting the crocus patch to a more suitable corner of earth.
Latte sipping in the afternoon.
Marketing by bicycle, all around town.
Neck tension and a hot water bottle.
Designing but not making anything at all in my studio.
Spring cleaning.
Movie attendance at the cheap theatre in the evening (No wonder all the hooplah.  It was good.  Even RW enjoyed the viewing and now breathes deeply and looks at me intently every time he passes me in the house.  I have to remind him that he is not a vegetarian vampire…we went through this same sort of situation the first time he saw a James Bond movie.  For weeks at a time he’d earnestly tell me that his fish biologist position with the federal government was just a cover for his real job — the job he could tell me nothing about…)
Falling asleep to rain against the window and the thunder of the night trains.
This morning:
Still waiting out the rain.
38 robins listening for worms in the neighbors yard.

2 robins in my yard (what’s wrong with MY yard?) listening for worms.
Wool cardigan.
Furnace engaged.
Hearing the grass growing and blushing green.
In my heart, I’m living in the woods between the worlds.
Stormylightfiltering in through the living room window.
Penelope now, begging to be held
and Robert on the other side of town buying groceries.
I’m taking my time this weekend. 
I hope you’re taking your time too or maybe even finding a bit of sabbath for your soul.
Warmly,
Jillian