Beautiful illusions.

Transformation is constant. It is a current pushing forward regardless of friction. Nothing is still. Nothing is always. Perception is pertinent when dealing with any sort of change. Life grows, seasons change, time moves forward and the earth spins constantly.

Some transformations are obvious. Take for example the butterfly. An egg hatches into a beautiful larva inching along slow and patient. Only to morph into an elegant butterfly. Sometimes I wonder if they are aware of what they would become. If while diligently tranced constructing their chrysalis they had excitement about what was to come. Perhaps they just trust that the unknown doesn’t have to be negative or scary. That change is just that, change.

As we say goodbye to summer and hello to winter, perspective comes into play. Sure cold, slushy commutes to work and frosted over windows can mean a lot of hassle for a lot of people. Let’s think about what is really going on. Nature slows down to rejuvenate, restore and rebuild her life forces for the next year’s cycle. Again, perception plays a part here. I hear many people (guilty of this myself) complaining about “missing the sun”. Many people don’t know that we are actually closest to the sun in January. So when we are furthest away from our source of heat, we are actually warmer. Funny to think about really.

With everyone scurrying to find thing to occupy themselves during these cold months I’m thankful for my childish nature. Snowball fights and igloo forts are some of the highlights of the season for me. Sledding is a favorite too. Snow is a beautiful disaster when too much falls, but excitement still rushes through me when I through open my curtains to see a few feet fell overnight. Cooking everything, and “bad weather” excuses to stay in with family for bored games and movies. The long nights and short days do take a toll on my spirit eventually and as soon as January hits, I am over it. I long for greens and mud. I can’t wait for the smell of bonfires to come from my backyard, not out of my chimney. 

I am sometimes a hypocrite when it comes to transformation, and change. As much as I know that everything is in motion, sometimes I wish I could stop the clock. Whether to have one more moment with a loved one who has passed, or to slow the aging of my children. I sometimes need to remember what my advice to everyone else is. The clichés like, everything happens for a reason, or when one door closes another will open. Regardless if you tend to see the glass of water as half full or half empty it is just that, a glass with water in it. If you stand and ponder for too long, eventually it will evaporate.

I try to appreciate change as much as I can. I am an optimist at heart. It is never easy to face disappointment or loss but looking at things in retrospect can help. As sad as I am to see my children growing up so fast it will be nice to eventually have time to do the endless lists of nonsense I find interesting. Like quilting or refinishing an old dresser to look like a bench with drawers that I found on Pinterest. Watching my children accomplishing their dreams will be as amazing, as watching as they took their first few steps. Sure it’s scary not knowing what is around the corner, but it is the anticipation that’s important. Sometimes we all need to take a step back and just breathe. We are never in control of everything and that, that is ok.

 

 

 

Tiny hands big creek.

How fast the time flies by. Everyday closer to something new, yet further from things past. From Presidential elections being around the corner, to school shopping, the fairs, the rodeo, it seems endless. Summer is supposed to be relaxing. A time to refocus. Instead we find ourselves rushing from work to babysitters, sports, to home. Quick hellos and goodnights only to do it again the next day. I swear it seems that as an at home mom, I just watch the world buzzing around me like working bees preparing their hives.

I have decided, for now I'm looking at yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Settling on that concept, I decided that today I would take my nieces and eldest son to the creek behind my sister in law, Kim’s house. Exploring, teaching and becoming one with nature, is the only way I know to "slow time."

Boots on and mismatched Tupperware in hand, we walked down through the woods. The woods seemed to invite us. Welcoming us with its branches stretched to the sky. We hiked slowly passing beautiful wild flowers from periwinkle to jewel weed. The wild grapes draped over the apple trees as if offering us shelter from the rain if threatened. The bed of pine needles sponged under our feet as we walked giving us the illusion that they would be soft if we were barefoot. Poison ivy climbed up the trees left and right avoiding it was a daunting task.

Along the winding trail to the creek was a clearing littered with black raspberries. Filling our dishes and our bellies, we risked the scratches from the thorns for the delicious snacks. Quinn at four years old, looked up at me with her purple little smile and melted my heart as she explained to me that “They are better than candy Aunt Ivory!” Ashlynn repeated as much of grammas jam recipe as she could remember calling the berry patch a “gold mine.” I was impressed how much of it she could remember considering she is only 7.

As we reached the crest of the ravine my sister in law, Kim clutched her daughter's hands attempting to contain their childhood fearlessness. My 13 year old son, Jeffrey however shot down the embankment, feet first like a professional snowboarder. Once down, he offered his hand to the girls like a gentleman. The crisp water was so refreshing it almost took our minds off of the relentless mosquitos swarming. The stream that was normally only inches deep and about 10 foot wide, was swollen from the recent rain. There was debris along the edges as proof of this week’s storms. The crayfish however didn’t seem to care they were under every slate rock we lifted. They shot backwards swimming with incredible accuracy right into out hands.

Salamanders slithered threw the current with busy little agendas only to end up in clear Tupperware bowls. The girls ages 4 and 7 examined them with the purest eyes. “Why are they so soft? Why so many spots? Are they girls or boys? Do you think they like us?” Kim and I answered the best we could, whipping out our phones to google what little we were unsure of.  

With the sun setting over the tree tops we began to release our critters back into the water thanking them for their participation. Just then when we thought natures surprises were over, we heard a giant “whapping” sound right next to us. Focusing on the direction in which it came, we realized that we had been sharing the stream with a Blue Herron. “A dinosaur bird!” My nieces shouted. It flapped so strong and hard only to take fight delicately and slowly. We chatted about our adventure as we made our way back to their house.

My son and I got into the truck and I had a moment of bittersweet sadness. My kids are not getting any younger. Every bump, scratch and tear they have gotten while exploring the world has made them into who they are. Stronger and smarter than I could have ever expected. They have lived. The beauty of the outdoors has taught them so much about life. Where we live is amazing. Everything you need is right outside I hope as they leave this nest in the next few years that they never forget nature’s lessons.

Barefoot...

Take me to a place where needs are melon void. Where trees swallow my attention and dirt cuddles with my toes. I want to run threw a meadow to find a creek, and splash like a child, searching for treasure. I want to chase a dragonfly that danced by my shoulder, down into a valley blessed with black eyed suzie’s. Though we spook grazing deer, they do not run, just watch. As I would breath deep and smile, lying on my back, allowing the sun to cradle me in its arms. I wish this moment could take my hand and guide me to this peace every time I close my eyes.

Just a little...

Doubt is the knowledge that trust is a virtue.

Spice is a small treasure sprinkled on your guilty pleasures.

Souls of the wicked grow more commonly then the tears they create.

To forgive is to swallow a serpent.

Intentional loss is a great attempt for a broken soul

To be fake is to admit defeat. 

 To steal is to take the unachievable.

A poet is an inventor of emotions.

An espresso is chaos in a cup.

Honor is accomplishing the greater good modestly.