All of a sudden, summer is both hanging around and barely hanging on. Evenings are cool; we close most of the windows before heading to bed to keep out the chill. Night sticks around longer and longer each morning as a grey veil of darkness over the yard, quietly slipping away as the sun moves higher in the sky. But soon enough, things warm up and the day reveals what it has in store. The sky is shining bright blue, and you think, 'September is hands-down, the best month ever.' So now it's waiting: waiting for seeds to form, to be saved for growing next year (dyer's coreopsis), and to be saved for dye projects this fall (Hopi black sunflower). But you've got...
June 1:Evening planting tulsi + lavender. Lone coyote ran through the yard, sniffed us in the air and just kept going, skinny tail and all. We saw her later through the window from the house, weaving her way through the Lelands. The birds announced her arrival, following above in the treetops. Thomas + I watched her go through the binoculars, landscape distorted like a diorama. June 2:2 trips to the ocean today. Made 3 Beach Rose Ink.Not enough umbrella time. June 6:I've been watching the winds lately. Wondering how old they are. How many times they've crossed over the earth. I watch them move through the trees, negative space parting the way between sky and leaves: all things in flux....
Flower moon in full effect.
Birds call and the blooms answer. Petals blow on the breeze like bizarre summer snow. Everything's gone green while my mind swims in it; you can't look up without seeing leaves glow all around you. Everything is alive. Remember to look up more often.
Thomas + I took a walk here on New Year's Day. Though the trail through the pines was quiet, far off we could hear the rumble of the wind blowing over the bay and into the trees. When we reached the top of the dune, our eyes teared up when the wind hit us. Blinking, freezing, we stood in awe. You could say it was the view (it was that too) but it was also in how we got there.Here. 2019.To say I am grateful for how the past year has gone is an understatement. I am unsure how to form into words, written or said, about how immense my gratitude is. My heart swells with it.I think back to that walk...
Uva ursi grows like a carpet in the sands of the National Seashore here on Cape Cod. Also known as Bearberry it holds the sand down, keeping it from eroding + blowing away; a tough job this time of year when the winds howl and the chop of the seas can be felt on your skin no matter how far you are from the ocean. The new plant growth turns a shade of red when in full sun, while the older growth maintains its evergreen leaves. And although there are no longer bears on Cape Cod, its namesake would have you guess otherwise. These days, the bright red bearberries are food for birds and other wildlife during the dark days of winter. Thomas +...
