The sky this morning is gray, and rain fell during the night. It’s still raining, I suspect, judging by the sweet scent coming in through the open door in our bedroom. It looks much like most of last month looked out there, but it is decidedly different. This particular gray morning comes on the heels
I pull a bag of fish fins and assorted parts from the freezer. I’ve been saving them since last summer when Gerry returned from his annual salmon fishing trip. We work together when my (not so) old man returns from the sea to fillet fish, tuck little packages in the freezer, and stuff some in
It turns out to be a long and busy day. My mind is busy, and I struggle to wind down at the end of it. I think about opportunities and the changing of seasons. I have more questions than answers—that is most often the case. I believe in the wonder of magical things, and I
It feels like summer. Gerry’s going hiking and I’m tempted to sit in the lawn swing all day with a book in my hand, a glass of iced tea by my side, and one foot on the ground to maintain a gentle sway. I did that once. I spent an entire Saturday in the yard,
It’s here. The spring weather I’ve longed for has arrived like a somewhat-late symphony. It’s settling in, tuning instruments, and preparing to show us something magnificent. I spend an afternoon with my hands in the dirt—the heady aroma, intoxicating, as I top up pots and plant flowers, imagining how they’ll fill in with colour over
It seems like spring is late. That is, of course, not the case. Spring, and everything else, is unfolding as it should. My challenge is to let go, lean in, and live and love well. I’m not all that good at these things, but I keep trying We spend a few hours in the yard.
It’s late April and hills across the valley are dusted white as if with confectioners sugar. I spend the morning in the woman cave dabbling with this and that and not thinking about gardening at all. Odd for this time of year. By late afternoon the sun is shining, and the white is gone, but