The Moon and the Ice

Taking a photograph towards the end of the day is likely to be the last thing on my mind. Until I looked out the window …

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Finding Our Way

The last nine/ten months have been incredibly challenging in all parts of the world as we confront an insidious danger, a new virus. Here at home, we can heap on top of the pandemic an election the likes of which we have never seen, and wish we had not. On a personal level, I have lived for one year now with my house for sale, never sure if I will be able to stay in my home, and top it with the cherry of a very intense, seasonal workload. This is just my variation of the theme; so many of you and those you know, and so many more we’ll never meet are struggling with your own form of stress. It’s been an increasingly easy time to feel adrift from our moorings and to be lost in the most immediate problem in front of us.

While shopping on a website for other than books, of course I decided to dip into that section. You know, just looking. What I found was the book I needed, which you see here. Because that is what has happened to me … in the stress, distraction, and exhaustion, one of the things to go was the time put aside for my spiritual self. This book was published in August 2020 and references the onset of the pandemic and the ramping up of the presidential election, so it’s very current. Even having read a small way into the book, I am feeling calmer and reassured of moving into a better direction. So there is that.

On other fronts, because it’s been a while since I’ve posted, I thought to share a few photos, and what’s been happening in this small part of the world.

Produce from the local farm in October – the last of the gorgeous Jersey tomatoes, new potatoes, and a mix of Gala and my very favorite Macoun apples.

It was Halloween. Trees were beginning to shed their leaves, just enough to scuff through for trick or treaters or whoever wanted to enjoy a walk through the neighborhood. This little vignette of fall brought a smile to see the little pumpkins on the fence posts, the mums, and in a time we need to believe in our country, our flag.

While searching for something else, I came across this photo of Claude. Although he is no longer with us, this just reminded me of how calm and Buddah-like he could be at times, in contrast to his being a total goofball the next. He is still very much missed.

Another photo I stumbled upon …  a clearing sky after a winter rain from a second story window, raindrops sparkling the screen. How lucky are we to have so many beautiful skies and sunsets in this part of my state.

In November I attended an online children’s book conference held by Rutgers University. Normally, the conference is several hundred dollars and limited in attendance due to space and the personal nature of the event, but with COVID, it was presented online with Zoom to hundreds of attendees for a pittance. Our keynote speaker, Sayantani Das Gupta writes a New York Times bestselling series of a brave girl named Kiranmala. Sayantani was quite inspiring. One of the quotes she offered in her talk was the above by Toni Morrison, both relevant and a reminder of the heroic writer in all of us.

I also took a screen shot of this quote by Ursula LeGuin because it just hit home. Made me remember that I am no small talent, nor are you. Sometimes we need to be reminded and luckily, someone comes along to tap us on the shoulder from time to time. This was a good tap for me … consider yourself tapped now, too.

As the days get shorter, the nights longer, we look more to light. I frequently have a candle burning, but this gathering of wolves is one of my very favorite pieces, the light so beautifully illuminating their faces. It’s only made of stone, but for me, it brings some deep-stirred memory of woods and the quiet footfalls of our lupine brothers and sisters.

And here we are today. I cleared my porch of fall decor in preparation of other lights of the season. I carried the two small pumpkins that sat at my door to the end of the block, over the grass and tracks, and tossed them onto the plateau of dried grasses below. It won’t take long for some of the local wildlife to discover them and enjoy a small feast.

Perhaps this meandering through photos has reminded me that even when we’re in tough times, there is still always much to be thankful for. For every obstacle or challenge, there is another way to look at it, a way to learn something we need to know. These, indeed, are gifts and my heart is lightened.

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A Very Short Walk

For those of us who are self-employed and work from home, self-quarantining is not a new concept; we’ve been doing it for a while. What’s different, of course, is that with recent restrictions, we don’t have the freedom we did to just leave and meet friends, eat out, attend some sort of gathering. It feels like I’m sitting on my butt even more than usual.

I decided to take a short walk to stretch my legs and get a change of scenery. It was the perfect time to see lots of daffodils.

Some just ready to bloom … they looked like they were napping, soon to be awakened by more sun and an inner clock known only to them.

Here we see another flower, a bit of purple somewhat hidden in the leaf litter … myrtle. This tells me the deer are happy with their current forage and are not yet roaming the streets looking for this, a favorite snack.

I also spotted at a distance, looking real for a brief moment, a quasi-hidden cat, bearing what I believe is a Welcome sign. Thank you – it could have been a plain cat, but instead it was a neighborly greeting.

It’s easy to pass by this forgotten old garage, its faded, peeling paint, rusty hinges on a door. But the daffodils brighten it so, and had me look twice. Funny how sometimes the most worn and ignored of things can still have a beauty of their own.

Why a second view? Because the daffodils are not the only form of life emerging. Look under the concrete slab to find beautiful ivy leaves winding their way to the sun.

It was a short walk, and in times like these, even a short walk is balm for the spirit.

In the few days since, I now see forsythia beginning to bloom and that shy greening of the privet hedge and lawns. Just a blush, just enough.

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Textures of A Grey, Wintry Day

It was Wednesday, a day predicted to be cloudy and cold with possible snow showers in the afternoon. The perfect day to be inside as I had a good project to focus on. But first, something lovely to light my day. I realized, after I’d taken a few pictures, that the sparkle of a tea light in the unique beauty of mercury glass could not easily be captured with a camera. It’s quite magical, so I’ll offer my best try, and you can imagine the light shimmering within.

At a certain point in the late morning I felt restless and too much inside. The sky had been a nearly colorless grey-white since daybreak and was less than inviting, but I needed some fresh air. I opened the side door to my porch and was greeted by a chorus of happy song. The many sparrows that abound around the house raised their small voices to the sky from the privet hedge and cheered my heart. Soon I heard  the nasal call of a Canada goose overhead, then three, then perhaps seven or so, as they winged their way southward, dark silhouettes against the paleness.

Despite the faded grey skies, I felt inspired to step outside, even if for a little while. The privet hedge nearest my driveway remains green for a surprisingly long time. However, with the temperatures now dipping to 18 degrees at night, even these leaves are turning and starting to fall.

Before the spring earlier this year, I had an arborist come out to trim it and cut back the vines that insinuate themselves among the gentler stalks of the hedge. There is no killing the intruders as all their roots are totally entangled, but once cut back, I can keep a better eye on the vines and continue cutting them to the ground. I watched the arborist out my tall office window – he was an artisan with a ladder, clipping here and there, then climbing down and standing back, assessing his work, much like an artist at an easel. It was a delight to watch him trim the branches so carefully to their natural inclinations. When done, he assured me that it would look beautiful and grow wonderfully in the spring because privet hedge loves to be cut back. He was right.

The tall tree in the furthest corner of the yard was a pattern of lace in the sky, also still holding on to some of its last leaves. In the foreground to the left is more privet hedge which the owner lets grow tall and wild for privacy. Totally untended for a while now, however, it has slender maples growing here and there, and I wonder if they might choke it out at some point. On the occasions that the hedge was trimmed, it was always with a chainsaw, so I suspect my little area of privet along the driveway may be counting itself lucky indeed.

At the corner of my front porch is a tall shrub, perhaps some sort of hemlock. From the recent rains, it was covered with droplets of water, sparkling without the benefit of sun, just catching whatever light they could, and looking quite festive.

Also still wet from the rains of the night before, the branches of this evergreen glistened with moisture, cradling several of the now crisp maple leaves that have flown by from neighboring trees. This shrub has quadrupled in size since I’ve lived here – it’s in a very happy spot. It didn’t get its chainsaw shaping this year, so I hand trimmed it myself to keep its nice natural shape. Still, I suspect it will need more attention come spring; it has a very expansive nature and gets just the right amount of sun to fulfill its dreams.

Holding on to its once-bright green leaves is another shrub, sporting its cheery red berries. The branches are a tangle of dark criss-crossing patterns, and the leaves have now turned coral and copper, soon to join the slumbering grass below.

I didn’t venture far. It wasn’t that kind of day. But the caroling sparrows and gently changing plant life around my house and yard brightened my spirit, and invited me back into myself.

 

 

 

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The Path

This morning I got a reply from my niece to my “heads-up” e-mail to her, letting her know a package was soon to arrive with gift books for my great-nephew. He’s a big reader, and also very resourceful around Christmastime in looking for presents, I’m told.

Knowing I have aspirations to be published in children’s books as an author and hopefully, illustrator, she included a photo of the “pre-book” cover of an illustrator she met at a recent art show. The illustration was charming. And before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face as I felt so very far from my hopes and dreams. So far from even finding the time to write and draw with all that’s on my plate right now. And, well, that’s exactly what I had to do today – get on with what’s on my plate, my work.

First I turned on a few hours of music from Spirit Tribe Awakening – music that contains ancient healing frequencies, aligning with our heart chakra and helping release negativity with specific sound vibrations. This always helps. As I listened and watched the beautiful images of nature, I felt more peaceful, and then a desire to find more beautiful images.

Feeling so far from my path can sometimes leave me feeling utterly helpless, but I thought that I might be helped with the beauty of imagery. The result is what you see here. Paths of every kind.

And though I am still feeling a bit sad, between the music and images I am feeling more hopeful. It was the image of the cobblestoned street that first drew me in, and so  I began to walk …

Sometimes our paths are crooked …

Sometimes inspiring …

Sometimes our path seems to totally disappear.

Sometimes we travel our path with others …

But in the end, it is our path, and ours alone. And while it may be a lonely or hard path at times, it shines like the freshest of rains and mirrors the beauty that yearns from within.
I’ll get there.
We’ll get there.

 

Thank you to all the photographers whose wonderful photos I have used above and to freeimages.com for offering the works of these talented individuals to others.

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Thankful for Soup

Although fall does not technically end until the Winter Solstice, it is often felt to end with Thanksgiving, when all things Christmas and holiday ramp up in earnest. Today is Black Friday with all its manic sales and crazy competition, and one day of the year I am more than happy to stay put where I am.

But Thanksgiving was another story, and the perfect time to make a warming soup. Pictured is the Pumpkin Black Bean Soup I made, vegetarian, healthy, and delicious — onions, garlic, spices, black beans, tomatoes, pumpkin, and finished with a splash of balsamic vinegar. And served in one of my very favorite finds – black matte and gloss stoneware by Pfaltzgraff.

Presentation is an important aspect of food as we eat first with our eyes, so I love to photograph food. How rarely you see this in my posts is testament to how little time I have for cooking and baking nowadays, a sad comment as I truly enjoy doing both from scratch. And those lovely dishes? Though now closed, there used to be a Pfaltzgraff factory outlet, a dish-lover’s paradise, in nearby Flemington. A perfect bowl like this might run $8.00, but due to some usually invisible defect, it sold for $1.00, maybe two. Many mourned the outlet closing its doors, though it was a somewhat dangerous place for those who love dishes and cookware.

So while feeling spectacularly fortunate that I was able to buy such beautiful and durable stoneware for a pittance, I couldn’t help but think how fortunate I am in so many other ways — that in a world where people are shivering and suffering in the cold, I am able to have a safe, warm home; where people are dying of hunger, I can make a nourishing soup with the purest of ingredients; where people are in want of clean water – or any at all – I have what I need to make coffee and tea at the touch of a spigot.

And I am fortunate to enjoy the wonderful change of seasons where I live, golden fall easing into the chill and white of winter, so beautiful. For all these, and so much more, I am thankful.

 

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The View from Here

I was up early this morning – earlier than I wanted to be. I padded into the back bedroom and looked out the window. It was beautiful out. The moon, still nearly full, had bathed all the trees  and rooftops in a soft-edged blue. I thought to run get my camera, but instead, just stayed and savored the way the moonlight created a landscape that we might only see for a few days each month.

The light and shade of blue looked like this:

 

In fact, had I wandered out of the house, around the corner, and down the road a short piece into the woods, I am sure it would have looked almost exactly like this. Absolutely magical.

And now, as daylight fades, I look to the west. The sky at the horizon is the softest rose and apricot pink, easing upwards into faded pale blue and pink clouds, the trees a web of stark shadows. Another stroke of beauty. As I write, it morphs into lavender, and soon it will be dark.

There are times in all our lives when we are just inundated with things – work, emotionally-charged events, health challenges, all kinds of demands … so many things out of our control. At such times, these beautiful moments seem to warrant no more than a passing glance as we rush on to whatever calls us next.

However, we are fortunate that the beauty around us continues to change and evolve softly, always waiting quietly for us to notice, to be inspired, to be grateful. And grateful I am. In the midst of all manner of recent events and demands in my personal and work life, I have known that periods of time like this change and evolve, too. I can stop and breathe in that blue moonlight, that dusky sunset, and know I am safe and the one constant thing in life is change.

Change is good. It can bring out the best in us if we let it. And always there’s some touch of beauty to light our way.

 

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A Slow Fall

Fall this year seems different. It seems to be taking longer to be … well, fall. Not to complain. The days have been mostly sunny and in the 70’s for weeks, and in the 50’s-60’s at night. Heaven, really.

On my front porch, fall has arrived at my door with a basket of leaves and a pumpkin I picked up from Melick’s Farm in Oldwick a few days ago. In the morning sun, it glows so nicely.

Meanwhile, on my back porch, summer still reigns, and the vivid pop of color from Impatiens cheers up the quiet afternoons.

And the coleus (which you saw a few posts back) just continues to grow like wildfire. The will to live and grow that these plants have is undeniable, and I have already decided that they will stay in their favorite spot until the frost, whenever that may be. I’ll be sorry when they go – they’re such a bright spot when I go down to get the mail or hop in the car. I don’t think I’ve ever been more vigilant about a plant’s needs. Especially when all they ask is to be watered.

Inside, fall has come to grace the spots that welcome seasonal touches … the oak washstand in the hallway, and spots all about the house that welcome autumn colors and textures. Likewise I have switched my dishes to those I use for fall and winter, and am happy to put away the bright colors of spring and summer.

There’s something so home-y about the fall colors, so cozy and warm.

Outside, the trees have not yet turned color, not many leaves even fallen yet. Days are beginning to get noticeably shorter. Apples are coming in to the local farmstands, along with pumpkins and gourds of every color and pattern, though there’s still plenty of fabulous corn and tomatoes to be had. Soon there’ll be freshly pressed cider, and a chill to the air.

Fall coming slowly is just fine.

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Fresh from the Farm

I know I have waxed ecstatic periodically about the joys of having so many wonderful farmstands dotting the backroads of my county (the highest agricultural county in this state, BTW), so at the risk of perhaps repeating myself …

Look at this gorgeous produce I picked up yesterday! On the way home from food shopping at the supermarket in the afternoon I stopped at Phillips Farms to pick up a few fresh items, and as I approached the little red “house”, I heard one of the staff talking to a customer about Black Velvet Tomatoes. I was all ears! She pointed out the darker tomatoes above, and described them as much sweeter that the average field tomato, and therefore, great for salads, but could take over in a sandwich.

Don’t you love it when people know their stuff? So I picked up a few. Now as an artist, I also found them quite interesting, as I did when that yellow summer squash caught my eye. I’d never seen one with dark green ends, and was told they were really good, too. So with my black velvet tomatoes, field tomatoes for sandwiches, and a summer squash for I-don’t-know-what, my food shopping was complete for the week.

Once again, I am so grateful that fresh, beautiful produce is available to me from spring’s first asparagus to fall’s last apples and pumpkins.  And that it’s no more than 10 minutes away, or at any number of farmstands brightening my drives as I go.

Yesterday wasn’t a corn run, but I suspect that will be on the agenda before long!

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Grounds for Sculpture – Botanica

Grounds for Sculpture, created by J. Seward Johnson, is an (almost exclusively) outdoor museum featuring sculpture from around the world in every style, material, shape, and size imaginable. It is peopled throughout – quite literally – by the wonderful sculptures of Johnson himself. I have done a few posts on the Grounds for Sculpture because it is such an amazing place.

In previous posts, I focused on the sculptures throughout the grounds, but what I’ve never highlighted are the exquisite grounds themselves. Each and every sculpture is shown off to its best advantage by its “framing” by the perfect trees, shrubs, or grasses.

Truly, the Grounds for Sculpture is not just a sculpture exhibit,
but a true botanical garden.

One of Seward’s many sculptures, positioned in an outdoor amphitheater.

Sometimes just walking from one area of the grounds to another is an experience, this feeling to me like walking in an Impressionist painting.

Two views of one of the ponds on the grounds.

One of the many magnificent trees to be found as you walk
the museum’s 42 acres.

Another sculpture framed perfectly by the surrounding plantings.

 

Views in a Japanese sculpture garden.

One of a pair of ballerinas.

One of my favorite sculptures and arrangements in the park.

To enjoy more of Grounds for Sculpture, just type that in the search box above. Thanks for walking through these beautiful grounds with me.

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Because She Lets Me … A 1-Minute Post

Without a doubt, Jazzy is the most demanding and vocal-about-it animal – cat or dog – that I have ever had the pleasure of sharing my life with.

But then … she has a ridiculous amount of patience (especially for a cat) and humors her silly Mom and lets me do this … and waits while I get the camera. Animals never cease to surprise and amaze me. It’s why we love them.

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The Beauty and Beast on My Porch

Let me preface this post by noting two things. 1) I am not a gardener, and feel especially lucky when the annuals I plant on my porches do well. 2) I was really not aware that there could be such a drastic difference in the actual quality of plants purchased from one location or another. Witness the Beast:

In early spring, my neighbor came home with an amazing haul of beautiful plants for their property, some of which I’d never seen or heard of before. I found she’d gotten them at Rice’s Market in not-too-far-away PA. This is a flea market which also has a huge assortment of plants from a local nursery.

Just look at that coleus above! Not only have I never seen coleus that looked like that, but it has been growing like wildfire in what is, obviously, its perfect spot. A Beast, indeed!

The burgundy leaves of the variant in back feel like velveteen and somewhat resemble a red maple. As summer wears on, they are starting to turn bright green at the edges. The tiny leaves of the other variant below are simply charming – again, nothing like any coleus I’ve ever seen.

As for the Beauty … the selection of annuals available at this nursery was astounding. I brought home these dark, velvet-y, purple petunias with a white star, and snapdragons, so petite and pretty, they are called “Angel Face Snapdragons.”

Stunning, no?

The individual flowers of this snapdragon look like tiny orchids. Ultimately, they – growing so tall – may not have been the best choice for the same pot as the petunias, but they’re making me happy! I find myself already thinking about what might be at this market for next spring.

As for the quality of plants … time being short as it is, I bought the above to get into pots right away with the thought of making a more local stop for other flowers a couple weeks later. The impatiens are struggling in one area (usually perfect for impatiens) and not even blooming in another. I’ve already made my decision – no more Home Depot, Lowe’s, or “plant lady.” Next year? out to PA for this nursery’s amazing selection of flowers, so fabulous they manage to make even me look like a gardener!

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