It’s coming

Ran home from a few hours of work today to revel in the sunshine and warmth before it fizzles. First, I spent a frenzied 15 minutes trying to shovel out the front deck. Why? Well, this: You may not recognize it, but this is the view from the front windows less than a week ago.... Continue Reading →


A spent toad graced the left rut of my driveway this morning, an unfortunate casualty of the early morning commuters. I'll spare you pictures--mostly because the phone was in the house whilst I mounted my morning walk investigation--but this was a large toad when he lived in three dimensions. Now, as most of him--but not... Continue Reading →

The bright side

The robins are singing again. I can't be sure that it's Julio I'm hearing out there, but whoever it is, they're greeting me through closed windows each morning, and I've missed them. As I've explored before--you know, a few times--I am slightly more dependent than the average bear on the changing seasons for my well-being.... Continue Reading →

Is it time?

Dare I even ask? The birds have already made their predictions, and have made the journeys that accompany them, and I hope for their sakes that it is indeed. For almost a month we've had strangers at the feeders. Dozens of redwing blackbirds blackening the trees outside my window, trying their hands at sunflower seeds. European... Continue Reading →

A child of change

They're singing again. A January thaw is upon us, and the birds of the homestead are ecstatic. My eyes snapped open this morning as an unknown avian friend warbled out her morning greetings. Shamefully, I can't connect her voice with her face in my jumbled-up brain, and sadly, my rusty echolocation, struggling to revive from... Continue Reading →

The Letting Goes


Again, Cast Light leaves me no choice but to reblog. What an excellent steward of the gift of words. Cast on…

Cast Light

“Sometimes I go about with pity for myself and all the while Great Winds are carrying me across the sky.” – Ojibway saying

On the days that don’t make sense, the ones that chip away at our core, rather our ego, we are being broken and remolded for something new. A slow releasing of what’s not important anymore, the arm wrestle of growth, a series of letting goes.

And in those moments of the mundane, we can let feelings and moods rise to the top and move through them to finish what’s been started. And in the midst of the dry days, the hollow is transforming into the hallowed. Faith holds our hand to the other side and gratitude shines the light of what is ours here and now.

Flowers bloom. The sun rises. Easter always comes.

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