Photo Journal

Savoring Transition

Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and an inclination to savor it. This makes it hard to plan the day. But if we forget to savor the world, what possible reason do we have for saving it? In a way, the savoring must come first.

E. B. WHITE

December 29, 2022 - Geese calling and flying overhead

December 29, 2022. My Birthday. I stopped by the pier near The Red Dock in Saugatuck to get a look at the frozen water, when a flock of geese flew overhead. I heard them before I saw them. Noisy and lovely.

December 29, 2022- A Squirrel figuring out his next move.

December 29, 2022. The squirrels are back at the bird feeders. They hid up in their nests during the blizzard and the birds had the feeders all to themselves. Even though squirrels are a little greedy and I have to replenish the food more often again, I have to admit, I love to watch them. They are ingenious and athletic, and just a little bit crazy. I still try to make it difficult for them; but I don’t chase them off. Much.

December 29, 2022 - Hanging by the tips of his toes.

December 31, 2022 - Heart of Birch in the woods.

December 31, 2022. Last day of the year, and I woke up feeling blue. It happens to me every year around this time, holidays, my birthday, year’s end…

I found a quote by Khalil Gibran, “Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.” That feels apt. December 31 is a day of transition and sometimes transition is hard.

I decided to take a walk in the woods behind my house, if not to feel better, at least to clear my head. I saw the white outline of a heart I made from birch remnants earlier in the year and decided to fill it in with more fallen pieces of birch. Doing things like this makes me feel a little lighter because it keeps my mind and body occupied while I’m “working” and I know it will make my neighbors smile later.

December 31, 2022 - The deer re-emerge from the woods.

December 31, 2022. Later in the day, the deer re-emerged. During the snowstorm and frigid weather before and during Christmas, they kept to the woods, where they could stay out of the wind and blowing snow, and huddle together. They didn’t reappear in my yard right away, even after the storm passed, maybe because they know they are more visible against the white backdrop. The snow is all melted now. I was happy to see them wandering through my yard again, especially the little one below, who broke her leg a few weeks ago. I am so glad she’s alive and healing.

December 31, 2022 - Young doe recovering from a foot injury eyeing me.

Waiting for Spring

Behind the black gate

obscured by mist, the trees sleep

in a gold meadow.

January 1, 2023 - Trees framed in metal, curtained in fog - like a secret garden.

“January is the month for dreaming.” - JEAN HERSEY

January 1, 2023. First morning of the year the lake shore area looked like a foggy dream world. I decided not to make specific resolutions this year the way I normally have, but to focus on some broader themes.

The first one, savor, was chosen for me by my friend Wendy. I love this. It is why I chose the quote by EB White at the beginning of this post. This morning I savored the fog in all its mystery.

The second is listen. Not unlike savoring, it requires attention and appreciation. Today, listening, I heard the blue jay’s piercing cry (hawk-like) through the fog because I decided not to wear headphones while running.

The third and fourth are slow down and deepen relationships. I want to slow down, doing one thing at a time, instead of multi-tasking, hurrying from task to task; place to place. I want to deepen my relationships, because it is too easy to take my husband, family and friends for granted and forget that at any moment; they could be taken away from me. In the end, only love matters.

We’ll see how the year unfolds.

January 1, 2023 - Mournful Angel

January 3, 2023 - Morning in Miami Beach.

January 2, 2023. My first sunrise in Miami Beach after a long day of travel (and delays) yesterday. I try to make it out for every sunrise when I’m here. The beach is not crowded so early, and I see a lot of familiar faces, “the sunrise crew,” as I think of them. The sun rises earlier here than in Michigan, but it is worth getting up extra early for.

Blizzard

Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge of the blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.

Laurie Halse Anderson

Dec 22 2022 The snow started falling Thursday afternoon. Just a few flakes at first, small and scattered. Then gradually, it became a steady flow. The air was white, and I had just finished gathering food and supplies for the holiday weekend. I had nothing else I needed to do, so I settled Into a chair in the back room of my house with a big window facing the woods and watched birds flocking to the bird feeders there.

It’s like they knew a storm was coming.

A tufted titmouse under the feeder picking seeds up from the ground.

A male Cardinal looking at me sideways.

A giant blue Jay trying to decide if he can trust his weight on the feeder or if he should scavenge from the ground (he tried both, but spent more time in the ground).

By Christmas Day, over 10 inches of snow had fallen and wind made freezing temperatures harder to bear, but it all felt like an adventure, bundling up and trekking through the woods.

A frozen stream running through the back woods.

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again." Lewis Carroll

My footprints were the first, even before the deer this morning. The snow blanketing every little thing made snow creatures out of twigs and ivy.

A little lamb…

A reindeer…

Christmas Day was a little warmer than the previous few days, and the squirrels, who had been hiding up in their nests, came down to get some food beneath the bird feeders. This little black squirrel is shivering while he eats.

A Cardinal in the hemlocks - he almost looks as if he’s posing for a Christmas card.

Ivy. How did it end up here, lying above the snow and not buried underneath?

What fire could ever equal the sunshine of a winter's day?

Henry David Thoreau

Tuesday morning after Christmas, the sun returned. It filtered through the trees in pinks and purples at first light, then set in a blaze of fiery glory in the evening. It looks warm, but if you look closer, there is ice forming on the lake.

As I write, the temperatures are rising, the snow is melting, and I feel a little sad to see it go.

Snow days are something really special. I love the feeling of being outside in it, walking, running, hiking, or working - shoveling snow, sweeping it off the decks, re-filling the bird feeders, getting really really cold… and then coming in to a warm house, a hot cup of te and a good book.

I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season and are enjoying whatever weather you’re experiencing! Happy New Year, too. See you next Friday.

Season of Quiet

Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

December 19, 2022 - Fennville, MI - Berries

In the silent woods

after a passing snowstorm -

how red berries gleam!

December 15, 2022 - Azle, Texas - Mistletoe

December 15, 2022. I saw this pretty mistletoe hanging from a tree on my mom’s property in Azle, Texas. Don’t think I’ve ever seen one with so many berries. I read that in an English tradition - you could kiss anyone standing under the mistletoe, as long as it still had berries on it. After you kissed the person, you were supposed to remove a berry. Once they’re all gone, the kissing stops. So, it’s a good idea to pick a branch with a lot of berries!

December 18, 2022 - Fennville, Michigan - Returned home to snow

December 18, 2022. Home again! Came home to a snowstorm. This snowfall caused delays and an uncomfortably long wait on the plane, but I got here safely and I’m loving it now. It feels like Christmas.

December 18, 2022 - Pier Cove Trust Trail - Maple Leaf

December 19, 2022 - Fennville, MI - Spray of Pine

December 20, 2022 - Lake Michigan- Icicle on fallen tree

December 21, 2022- Fennville, MI - Multicolored pine needle

December 21, 2022 - Fennville, MI - Pussy willow

December 21, 2022 - Fennville, MI - Grain

Winter solstice and the Christmas holiday make me want to slow down and appreciate every little thing. I tried to do that this past week. Noticing little things: a leaf in snow, an icicle, or a dried tip of ornamental grass. Just a pause to pay attention. To breathe in the cold air. To sleep a little longer, to listen to some holiday music, or just stare out the window daydreaming. Feel the sacredness of life and be grateful for mine.

I am grateful for you taking the time to read this! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate. Even if you don’t, I hope you can gather with your loved ones and cozy up. Enjoy a few minutes of quiet in a busy season.