We tend to
go straight from summer
into winter. This is the Rocky Mountain way.
Bundle up, snow bunnies!
October 6, 2011 by
I’ve got that living feeling….
February 26, 2011 by
[My oh my, Plumbelina grew up fast! She’s horse sized now. Giddy up!]
We’ve been socked in here all week long — low clouds and the steady threat of snow. Last night, the world finally turned white again, and the snow hasn’t stopped for an entire day! How lucky am I? So, this afternoon I decided faire du ski, up the mountain from the house. The snow was gentle; I quietly swooped through it, poling strongly and skating smoothly with the dogs chasing me down hill and tangling themselves in my skis when I found myself creeping up the hilly sections. I felt in touch with the Norwegian portion of my heritage. Blond hair in the wind. Salt water sparsely running so carefully down the small of my back…like the sea at the feet of fjords…
I know I tend to wax (eloquently?) on and on about the seasons, and whichever I happen to be experiencing is deemed my favorite and the most thrilling of all, but seriously, I love winter. It might sound strange, but something about it reminds me of the ocean, especially when it’s snowing. The white acts as an insulator and sound seems to travel a fraction of the distance, all is so tremendously quiet. My cheeks light up with roses and I’ve got that living feeling.
I’m adrift. I don’t belong.
I’m enveloped, I’m unfolding.
So many of you love summer, I’m sure. One of my very best friends and I agree that we feel most vivacious in the autumn months, I love the rebirth of spring, I adore elements of the summer months (like gardening and fishing) but winter, winter feels the very best of all on my soul. I try the white on and it fits like a glove. How about you? Would you rather sweat or shiver? Would you rather lay in the sun or coast through the snows?
There’s something so romantic about seeing the sky come down and settle in a smooth blanket on the surface of the earth. I want to roll it back, prop it up on sticks and make a quiet fort of it. There beneath the snow there is blue light, the swing of pendulums, the constant shuffle of crystal lattices waving like sea kelp in currents.
I’m off to whip up a pizza for the brilliant Mister and I
(oh, I love him so…).
Have yourselves a marvelous weekend, dear chickapeeps!
xx
Plume
Heading up the mountain:
February 9, 2011 by
And we did not return
until we felt ready,
not until the tips of our noses were cold
and our ears ached with wind.
February 8, 2011 by
I’m not yet ready for spring.
Fragile Graces
January 30, 2011 by
Doesn’t it seem as though the mornings
are full of fragile graces?
I must hush my footsteps and stir my coffee carefully or
this house of cards might topple like wheat in plough winds.
I can be a storm. I reign myself in. Surrender to the graces. Curl up. Tidy my feathers.
A sunrise is a fulfilled promise.
The sweep of the drapes is one beat of a waltz.
Birds in the grapevines huff and puff their cool songs in opaque white against a blue wash of sky.
There is the raucous and clattering play of puppies on the wood floor of the living room.
There is the quiet snoring when they find themselves played out.
Chopin on the stereo, piano forte smoothly
re-phrasing the beats of my heart — I am sustained.
re-phrasing the beats of my heart — I am sustained.
Sometimes when I rise in the morning,
I am so very aware that I’ll only be this young today.
I am so very aware that I’ll only be this young today.