Walking Into Winter

This is the solstice, the still point of the sun, its cusp and midnight, the year's threshold and unlocking, where the past lets go of and becomes the future; the place of caught breath.

Margaret Atwood

Winter Sun

Beneath heavy clouds

blazing brilliant light it dropped

then fell out of sight

Saturday -a beautiful expanse of dune grass blew gently in the wind. (Saugatuck Dunes)

Sunday over ripe berries hung from a bare branch…but those looked like tiny buds below them.

Monday, a dark-eyed Junco sat still for a moment looking right at the camera

Tuesday, a neighbors Hydrangeas; blossoms dried, faded and gone to seed…delicate as paper

Wednesday in the garden, a dried up rhododendron blossom that Dr. Seuss could have drawn.

And on the beach, a pair of pigeon’s prints in the sand by Lake Michigan - as if he just stood there, looking over the water and then flew off

Today - Winter Solstice, the sun was muted by cloud cover but still came through - looking more like the moon.

Movement is good for the body. Stillness is good for the mind.

Sakyong Mipham

This is a time of year that often gets me down, so I did a lot of walking and looking for little signs of light and life. A little color, a little sun, some flowering plants with seeds and buds waiting for spring, a couple of footprints in the sand, the stars in the morning, the cold crisp air and crunchy frost-covered grass under my feet - all these things get me outside of my mind as well as my house and those are both good things. And today the days begin to grow longer again! Happy winter solstice- and Merry Christmas if you celebrate!

Thank you so much for being here! I will see you next week!

The morning sky on the shortest day. Within the darkness, there is the promise of light to come.

Celebrating a Year with Wally - A Toy Walrus

The most simple things can bring the most happiness.

Izabella Scorupco

January 13, 2023 - Wally on his own Tiny Planet- Ferndale, Michigan

January 13, 2023

This past week, while I was back in Michigan, I decided to play around with my camera, and my toy Walrus, Wally. I found him almost exactly a year ago at a rest area in Florida while on a road trip. I’ve been taking him everywhere since then. He’s very photogenic. There’s something oddly soulful in his expression. I hope the pictures make you smile; I had fun taking them.

January 14, 2023 - Wally finds an ice cave - Fennville, Michigan

January 14, 2023. The lake does magical things in winter - like this little ice cave which I imagine was created when water filled with sand flowed over the rock and somehow froze in a hollow shell. Later, when it got warmer, some icicles formed. It was almost as if it was custom made for Wally.

January 15, 2023 - Resting on the frozen driftwood

January 15, 2023. Posed Wally on a dark piece of driftwood covered in ice at the edge of Lake Michigan. This cold weather is just right for a Walrus. He’s in his element.

January 15, 2023 - Looking out from a soft moss bed - Pier Cove, Michigan

January 15, 2023. Took Wally on my long run to the Pier Cove Trail. I let him take a break in the soft moss by the edge of the trail mid-run. It turned out to be a beautiful sunny winter day.

January 15, 2023 - Wally gazing wistfully over the lake at sunset.

January 15, 2023. The perfect end to a beautiful sunny January day. Tired and happy, I took Wally down to watch the sunset.

January 16, 2023 - Wally reflecting on the shore of Lake Michigan.

January 17, 2023. Wally and me. Look at those eyes.

Here’s one from last year - not long after I found him. Wally stopping to smell the roses on Miami Beach. I’m thinking about doing an entire book of his adventures. Just for fun.

The true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground.

Gilbert K. Chesterton

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.