summer past

puddles and pussy willows

in the place where you live

hen there is no horizon
take note, me, and take heart!
there are clues here, stand and look.
trees don't grow upside down
and I am right side up
yes!
                          small things are not small.

summer

est is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means waste of time.”

John Lubbock - The Use of Life (1894), ch. IV: Recreation

full heart

We sailed the Snowball Cup.


To our port the sun wearied over the city.


To our starboard the moon rose rested from the pines.

big for his britches

stars and lights

My blessed hands nearly froze but, oh, what a night!

summer tree, summer me

skyway

Well, hello flying wonders.


It's especially sweet of you all to put on a show for me while I sit housetop.




No one's ever done that for me before.


And you.  You're my favourite. 


Ripping the sky in two, jet in one half, sound in the other.  Gives me goosebumps.


But wait.


Who are you?


Why, you're beautiful!


Summer slipstream, cumulus contrail. 
Pinion passion.
Beaky baby.
You make it look eeeeeasy.


Can't blame us for trying.

nice legs

even the pits mean well

   Today sure didn't feel like a bowl of these. 
   So I ate only one.
   It was nice.
   Then I had a second and,
   inadvertently ...


   ... made the best of things.

all day, so far

  An unusually wet day in sunny summer Yellowknife.  Pull out the rain-resistant-Everything and meet this Imposter face to face.  Deep down rain is a child.  Loves mudpies and frogs and good excuses for cocoa.  Me, too.

synapsis

   Oh where can I be found?  In the kitchen rearranging cupboards one more time.  On the driveway digging weeds away from gravel.  In the picnic that is my brain, learning to outsmart it.  Eating ice cream by a fence.  Pounding pavement with my new job in our old truck.  Pounding nails.  In the thick of it all, willing life into worn things, me included.  Living!

blogiday

   We interrupt this blogiday to say hello.  Only patches of snow remain in Yellowknife.  The lakes are slushy and shoes muddy.  Days are filled with checklists (yawn) and other necessary things that sound dull but are good like vitamins.  My favourite lens is broken but my piano is working just fine so I've been playing with that instead.  And waiting for leaves.

night stand

patient

super carrot!

e can fly!  I think.  He folds his arms a lot.  And stands around looking at things with intention, at the ever ready to assist me in quests through the night's dark.  He stands more than he flies actually.  Unless, of course, he's assisting me on quests through the night's dark.  Then I would say he takes rather large Steps of Confidence.  It's hard to keep up but I just follow the snow pocks from his boots and do alright.   I call him Super but he doesn't dig it.  That's Carrot for you.

over

   In between homes.  Again.   So I watched the ravens from our hotel window dance the slipstreams.  Sweep over my frosty Yellowknife, circle spin over our empty apartment, our barren house in the barrenland.  Speed cold beaks over the little lake, over the big lake, over my old paths.  Over the hotel top to new ones, not yet packed down with Colleen-shaped footprints.  Snow on the other side of town waiting for me.

I'm still here!

It's just that we're in the middle of moooooving and painting and I will be back and that's a fact. Happy spring!

from an upstairs window

Am I the only one or is there a snow panda koala looking up at you, too?