Out of the water

for a moment or two.

More heat, more light

and so much to see in the wetlands.

Another June --

with Mira's herd

The end of the party

is always the best.

Sweet green tangle

This is how summer begins here.

A friendly chaos

No way to say

how it feels to walk down this path.....

Last week

was all about art.

Just like summer

for a few days.

Standing at the edge of the world--

almost twelve, and ready to go.

Mid-week--

a flicker of beauty.

Only small changes outside,

so much within: a May bouquet, 6 years ago.

Dandelions

fill every corner, like my thoughts of you.

Only lilacs

in the afternoon light, a small reprieve:

time becoming faint and see-through.

Can't remember how it goes

but this reminds me of a fairy tale--a girl, a swan.

Still

dreams in paint, after all these years.

Some mornings

I walk out the back door and it looks like this.

Steam and water and rain

like that dream of the summer when you were five.

As always

     
                              Pale shells gave way to sunrise colors;  I envied her concentration, as always.

The nights are still cold

                      and I find myself wishing for my very own pink tree.

Like holding seafoam

             
                                                             to try and hold on to these days.

The wind came from faraway

     

               

                                                                   Arctic, but exhilarating

A path by the sea

             
                                              The long grasses and the sound of the ocean made us feel the world as a huge breathing animal, and we moved along with her pulse and her breath.

After weeks of rain,

                                             After weeks of rain, we were all sun-drunk.

             Settling into spring, and the sheer relief of all the flowers and light returning.

Small pleasures

                                                       I want to believe that spring is almost here.

Winter garden

              Glanced over quickly and saw her white horse stepping out.

summer, come again

thinking about those nights in Carolina with the kids racing out ahead of us to look for ghost crabs, and how we all seemed like ghosts in the humid night, floating on sea air over sand still warm from the afternoon sun.

As fast as the melting snow

I liked the surprise and glitter of it all and only wish it could have stayed 

a little longer.

First green

"Nature's first green is gold, / Her hardest hue to hold."  
Today the willow was a shimmer of gold and early green, and we were there to see it.

When I close my eyes

I only have to close my eyes to recall the scent of the hills out east, and the way the rumor of cougars made every morning hike an adventure.

postcard, never mailed.

This smear of yellow flowers, and the memory of the paintings I loved 

in my twenties: running into the Phillips museum to see the Bonnards. 

The shock of lavender shadows and the way 

the painting changed as I moved closer.

Cyclamen, valentine.

This weekend I kept running into old friends I hadn't seen in a while, 

and all our talk was about how the days disappear, and how we long 

to hold fast to these hours, even in rain, even in the middle of February.

winter into spring

Transformations to come.

this dance

Coming up: valentine's day in second grade.

Last winter seemed brighter.

The floating world (last July).