Evening Sky

Beauty at the end of the day.  Beauty as the sun hits the clouds through the barren tree branches and balances itself behind the hills.

This is truly the time to 'walk in beauty'.  

My heart beats a bit faster, standing here, looking out at all of this vast and wonderful glory.

"With every sunset a new hope is born, an old expectation dies." - Noor Unnahar

Morning Sky

Washing dishes can often be a great joy to me.  The window over the kitchen sink faces into the woods.  There is always something wonderful to look at but...

...this day I was greeted by the sun shining on puffs of clouds turning them all pink and gold and orange.  

To begin my day in this manner is a gift.

"What a wonderful day.  I've never seen this one before" - Maya Angelou

A Spring Morning

As each season arrives I think to myself 'this is my favorite time of the year'.  Then as the season goes on I get tired of the snow or the heat or the whatever...  I guess I just love the changes of the seasons. Here I am on a spring morning.  The picture above was taken from my kitchen window - looking out at the tops of the trees in their vivid bright green foliage.

Starting out on my walk - I stop at the end of our driveway to savor the irises and flame azaleas all in full bloom.

As I walk up the hill I surprise both a squirrel and a rabbit.  Usually they dash off as soon as they sense I am near, but these must have know that I had no ill intentions and they sat pretty still.

Looking up into the sky I stood still looking at the burgeoning clouds, which threaten a sprinkle or two and the blue sky behind the clouds.

This is the time in the forest where I can actually see something through the trees as they haven't all leafed out.  Its the best time ever with new leaves, new flowers and young animals savoring this spring morning.  

"I need the seasons to live to the rhythm of rain and sun." - Sophie Marceau

Cloud Land

Recently my morning walk was interrupted by this beautiful and magical sight.  Looking down from the hill I'd climbed, I saw a vast sea of clouds below me in the valley.  The blue/purple mountains in the background made me feel like I was looking at a wonderland.

And indeed I was -- for how often did I see this sight.  Knowing it wouldn't last long, as the sun came up and cleared away the fog, I savored this one small moment given to me on this most amazing morning.

"If the world could remain within a frame like a painting on the wall, I think we'd see the beauty then and stand staring in awe." - Conor Oberst

2nd Month Meditation

How many times, as a child, did I lay on the grass to watch clouds floating oh so far above me?  Did I dream of riding on one - soft and puffy, supporting me as I traveled over the far off mountains?  I know that I pictured animals and other objects in the shapes of the clouds.  Little did I think of how truly connected I was to that cloud passing by.

"You are made of cloud - at least 70 percent of you.  If you take the cloud out of you, there's no you left.  A cloud has a good time traveling.  When it falls down, it does not die.  It becomes snow or rain.  The rain becomes a creek and the creek flows down and becomes a river.  The river goes to the sea, then heat generated by the sun helps the water evaporate and become a cloud again. Now the cloud has become tea..." - Thich Nhat Hanh

Feeling Grey

I don't know whether its because we've had a lot of grey, overcast days interspersed with rain lately -- or because many of my morning walks seem to be into the fog -- but I've become smitten with the color grey.

I feel myself being drawn to these misty, soft shades of grey with perhaps a little bit of soft blue or lavender thrown in.  Usually this is a light, bright tones time of the year - but I keep thinking of the softness of grey and its counterparts and I am drawn into its mystery and magic.

Recently I went to a Quilt Shop Hop where I seriously looked for grey fat quarters and the other day I spent a beautiful hour in the "Asheville Cotton" store where I searched out shades of grey to add to my collection.

I'm not sure what I'll do with all these fog, mist, ocean, clouds, steam, smoke shades but here they lay ready and waiting.

The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg