January 18, 2019. Winter weather changes certain habits – like wandering about in the yard looking at the day’s blooms and potential blooms while Labrador Buttercup tends to her morning business. A heater on the enclosed back porch (our seasonal greenhouse) tempts and I navigate toward the rocking chair near by, leaving the porch door cracked for dog’s return.
Often porch time becomes reflective, more so these past few days as I’ve begun reading Alan Watts.
January 13, 2019. Reflecting on my recent routine visit to the Ear-Nose-Throat doc – a remarkably pleasant space for waiting your turn – light coming through windows along the outer wall of the receptionist area – then passing through a cheerfully frosted panel into the make-yourself-comfortable area. Usually, one or two others share the wait. But this last visit got crowded.
January 8, 2019. One of those stop-in-your-tracks encounters showed up in the sky late yesterday. In a rush to get away from the day’s frenzies … forgot all about those energies … standing transfixed in the driveway. Colors and textures overhead gave the appearance of winter-bare tree limbs ablaze. Just our imaginations, our luck to walk out when we did.