about that spring bloom . . .

Ah yes, it is beautiful . . . but an ice storm in March? I guess I am not enough of a New Englander to be able to appreciate it. Or maybe I am too prone to excitement over little things like blooming bulbs, so that a new layer of snow and ice feels like a bit of a cruel joke :-)

just a dream

I've always been a believer in the mysterious nature of dreams . . . or at least I was when I was younger. Somehow, the older I get, the more "practical" my sense of reality has grown, leading to more of a focus on the logistics of daily life and future plans and, sadly, less of an awareness of mystery.
So I am grateful for occasional reminders of this reality that is, I think, just as important in many ways as "real life." Why else could a dream--a single night's brain waves--lead to an entire day in which I fought the temptation to daydream myself back into that dream? Ever since I woke up this morning I have been longing to recreate that dream for myself, trying to remember it as vividly as possible. Trying to recapture that other-worldy, wonderfully heartrending ache in the deepest part of my sensibilities.
Silly? Perhaps. But not without meaning. I cannot help but believe that such reminders in the heart are the way we really reconnect with what is most, in the depths of each human soul . . .

an icy ascent

Granted, it may not look all that impressive. But this is a very important little bulb: the first of Spring. Mom noticed it this morning and called to announce the birth . . . so I was camera-ready this evening, to document its brave ascent through the elements.

emergency eviction

Barbara promptly offered "writing" permission this evening, after telling me the day's excitement. Granted, my neighbor has provided me with writing inspiration in the past, so she knew what to expect when relaying this particular event as I arrived with the day's pharmacy pick-up for them:
For several days now, she has been concerned about the odor of what seemed to be some sort of a leak. So today she called for assistance, alerting the authorities that she seemed to have a gas leak. Shortly thereafter the inspector arrived and was directed to the room in question.
When he emerged, some time later, Barbara waited, with some concern, to hear the outcome. He quietly made his notes and she, anxious to see, peered over onto his work log, to see what he was writing . . .
"No gas leak. Dead mouse. Removed mouse. Cleaned area. Odor taken care of" . . . Disaster averted? :-)

mornin', sunshine

As Erin and I gasped at the view out her window, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness over the fact that my visit was already almost over . . . and nostalgic as I visited my old haunts from living there. I thought about playing with this photo but opted against it, deciding that "as is" was quite perfect :-)

for the color of it

It was with singular delight that I carted my camera along on a brilliantly spring-like day here in the Pacific Northwest. After a winter of ice and snow, and frigid temperatures, it was indescribably soothing to feel such newness in the air. I can't remember ever quite appreciating spring so much. But then again, I have had a habit of running away in the wintertime, accepting conveniently timed work opportunities in more tropic climes than those encountered stateside. And so today I soaked in this one afternoon of mildness with intense gratitude.
"Is it silly of me," I asked Erin, "to be so giddy about photographing flowers today, solely because of the thrill of encountering color again?" She thought for a moment, then said simply, "Nah--I don't think so."
So I'm taking her word for it, and posting this simple shot for you of today's color :-)

starched?

When I first passed this line, I noticed how beautiful it was against the white of the snow. And then it occurred to me that it was a rather odd sight to see, all things considered, here in our wintery wonderland. But being without my camera, all I could do at the time was bemoan the lack of my other limb . . . so it was with delight that I discovered the clothes still out "drying" when I returned, camera-ready :-)

teacher knows best?

It never ceases to amaze me how much of an adventure it is to work with little ones. And one of the reasons I keep gravitating towards such work is that I love the discovery process it is for me--oftentimes just as much as it is for the students!
At the moment I am thinking of my last lesson with one of my French students [who I will nickname Abby for blogging purposes]. Abby is 5 years old. Young enough to be a learning "sponge," yet old enough to catch me off guard with her snippets of insight and with glimpses into her intriguing little mind.
So this past time we met, I had intended to jog her memory with a review of the past songs we have used as French learning tools, going back as far as early in summer of this past year. But she didn't have a great deal of patience for this exercise and, you know, I decided that it wasn't worth pushing it. Because what I quickly realized was that her impatience was not due to any lack of retention. In fact, she easily [and with a twinge of feigned boredom!] sang the words of the songs I prompted. But then she started to suggest her own lyrics and songs. Soon she had me singing a series of impromptu songs about various objects she set her sights on. Who knew that one could sing a cute French ditty about "drapes and a couch"?
But I did, and it proved to be a much more interesting language lesson than the one I had intended . . . never mind the test it proved to be for my own language retention over the years! Serves me right for assuming that "teacher knows best" :-)

Happy "Hearts" Day!

Too all of you out in blogland, here's wishing you a happy Day of Saint Valentine!

a sight so lovely . . .

It's been cold. It's been really cold. And I don't much care for it. But it has also been stunningly, sunshinily beautiful. So I had the urge to just point my camera up at the sky and take a shot of it. I was tempted to adjust the photo but then changed my mind, deciding that it was quite perfectly lovely just the way it was :-)

on the rocks?

So remember that "snow hearts & ice blocks" post from last week? Well, after noticing since then the uncanny effect of those "cubes," I just couldn't resist having a bit of fun with it :-)

the fullest moon

I was grateful to hear the news, at work today, about the fact that tonight would be the brightest full moon of the year. And I also thought it was pretty cool to have the capturing of this sight be a part of my work assignments :-) Mind you, I have not yet done any moon photography, so it took a bit of research to figure out the proper settings. Once out there, however, my camera began to be its recently-finicky self, so I couldn't use the settings I "should" have anyway. What I ended up with is growing on me a bit, in a slightly eerie, full-moon befitting sort of way :-)

the concentric hearts

For those of you following my snowshoe hearts saga, here's the visual of my "community creation" :-)

snow hearts & ice blocks

This afternoon I headed out to the lake with the snowshoes . . . and there I found a delightful surprise: someone, it seems, both noticed and appreciated my snowshoe heart. For now, on the lake, there is a lovely set of concentric showshoe hearts :-) In other news, today was the annual ice-cutting on the lake--an authentically historic event, after which the blocks of ice that are culled are stored in the farm's ice house for the remainder of the year. While I did take the expected shots of the process itself, it was this photo of the after-effect that I found most interesting. Of course, that is my own aesthetic preference: one that is admittedly not-necessarily-normal :-)

just for goofiness sake

. . . because sometimes it is just necessary to amuse oneself. And, hey, after yesterday's photo fun, I realized I had a whole lotta frozen lake in front of me today that just begged to be "decorated" :-)

paving the way

It occurred to me today that I was tired of solely documenting other folks' snowy fun. So I donned the snowshoes and hit the lake today . . . leaving my own mark :-)

finicky fishies

When I spotted this fisherman and his paraphernalia out on the lake this morning, I first thought that it was some sort of preparation for the annual ice-cutting later this month. So I stopped and called out, "Excuse me, sir: would you mind if I ask you what you're doing?" [never mind the fact that it was of course too late, by this point, to ask if he minded my query :-)]. He was kind enough to not only not mind, but to oblige my curiosity by explaining a bit about the process of manually drilling holes for ice fishing--and to allow me to photograph the process. It seems that, so far today, the fish have not been cooperating very well . . . the nerve!

let's go fly a kite . . .

As we left to run some errands in town, I debated whether or not to take my camera along. Thinking out loud, I told Jen I'd just leave it for now, anticipating a practicalities-only sort of outing.
Later, dropping her off at her place as the sun was setting, she hollered back at me before going inside: "Get your camera," she advised, "and go down to the lake!" I did as she said and was ever so grateful to her for the tip. What I found was the most lovely sight--a solitary skater with a kite/parachute . . . a stunning sight, as he glided to and fro on the ice, the wind lifting, and dropping, his yellow kite behind as he went.
So maybe winter's not all bad :-)

snow dunes?

Perhaps it's just a winter-weary imagining--similar to thirst-induced mirages of glittering oases in the middle of the desert . . . But for whatever reason, when I passed this wind-swept patch of snow, all I could think was Sand dunes! Yes, I am officially, decidedly, bad at winter :-)

from the horse's mouth

Neighhh . . . I sayyy--aren't you glad Farmer Bob bought us fine new coats for Christmas? I just love stylin' in the snow!