Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
~ Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo. borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.
~ Erma Bombeck
This is the promised scheduled post to help me meet part of my commitment. The outdoor part will be easy. There is a zoo outing planned as well as some fun around the pond (fishing, swimming, and barbecuing). I stocked up on chalk for driveway drawing and bubbles for making magic appear with one little breath. There are balls (including the Big Red Ball that the wind brought to us one stormy day) and rubber duckies to throw into the pond. And there are all sorts of magical worlds to explore in the garden, the meadows, and the woods.
Wishing you a Saturday filled with magic and childlike fun.
In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary.
~ Aaron Rose
I love the light this time of year. The days may not be as long but the light we do get can be amazing. It’s almost as if we get extra “golden hours” to make up for the shorter amount of daylight.
Obviously I can’t go around pointing my camera directly at the sun. Well, I could (and I have) but it’s not a good idea. Most of the time it doesn’t work. The flares that result from all that bright light can be interesting although usually what comes out is a terribly bright, terribly washed-out-by-the-light halo effect.
During yesterday’s walk my eyes were drawn towards the grasses and dried flowers, the lines of sunlight and shadows, and the sparkles on the water. It was a fortuitous time of day. The light was almost perfect.
The area pictured above is where my dule of doves reside. They finally located the log with the grooves in it. The one where I’ve been putting out bird seed. It is probably my imagination but the doves didn’t seem to go as far away when they flew off yesterday. One even came back just after I poured more bird seed into my makeshift feeder.
Today’s walk wasn’t as brilliant. It is warm, windy, and wet outside so it was another under-the-umbrella walk for me.
I did take a few photos today. I’ll get to those in a minute. Yesterday was so pretty that I’m not ready to leave it yet and switch to the gray, rainy day.
all this time
the sun never says to the earth,
‘You owe me.’
Look what happens
with a love like that —
it lights the whole
Today’s Walk (the official version)
It’s close to 60 degrees here in the Bogs today. I gotta tell ya, it’s one of those days when “Bogs” suits the area well. We must have had a lot of rain overnight. According to one place I looked, we’ve had 3.19 inches for the month of November. All that precipitation is not helping with the pond draw down.
I found Winter’s footprint while I was out and about. I’ll show it to you in just a second. First I should warn you that it involves death. I’ve been pondering the depiction of death on my blog as part of my year-long journey/commitment. Should I show it? Or not?
Since the start of my commitment I have encountered death four times on my daily walks. The deer (which I did show), an oppossum (which I didn’t show), and today there were two field mice who look to be some sort of casualties of drowning or last night’s gusty winds blowing over the pedal boat.
Death is part of the cycle, especially this time of year. None of us seem to mind looking at the leaves on the trees as they go out in a blaze of glory. Maybe that’s because it is only a shedding of leaves and not the death of the tree. But I don’t believe many of us want to see the body of a dead animal.
So. You’ve been disclaimered. I cropped out as much of the field mouse as I could and still retain the impression of a footprint. The ice was in this shape when I found it.
(Perhaps you would never have noticed the mouse if I hadn’t mentioned it?)