A certain spot in the woods obscures itself for over half the year;
I can see it from my front step,
from my yard,
from my meadow,
from the place where a deck could be in the future.
I plan to spend coffee time on that deck,
breathing the forest air deeply
and trying not to think about mosquitoes
and bundling up warmly to brush away snow and sit,
with my coffee – not strong, hazelnut syrup, double cream –
for as long as I please.
I will look at that spot in the woods and nod to it and lift my coffee cup and listen to it and talk to it and exchange the news of the world.
This tangle of hemlock-on-hemlock obscures itself by dark needle and distance and, on a good mist-rising morning, by holding itself back behind the beaver pond, so that the mist occludes it.
But then the snow falls
and every needle stands out sharp and clear as crystal
The mild and hidden goddess, revealed as shining power for a moment before she shrouds herself again and walks among the Tree People.
I couldn’t post yesterday, couldn’t tell why, got on with my busy day until I saw poinsettias, red and green with golden ribbons, cream and green with golden ribbons.
Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.
Today, the fifth, on the other hand (though I did not use the first hand, it was busy holding coffee), seems to be about the Penguin Toy.
How close can a little dog get to the big dog’s Penguin Toy without causing a ruckus?
Apparently, it’s all about the eyes. If he does not look directly at the Penguin Toy, he can even snuggle it…
My coffee was steaming hot – too hot
As I poured it
So I stepped outside into the snowfall
and let the snow fall
Each tiny perfect crystal cooling.
Now I have Snow Coffee and I am weeping with gratitude for this life.
Feel it on my face,
Here it is!!!
They are so very patient with me, good doggers.
I confess to walking very little lately, a sign that the body and mind and spirit are vulnerable.
So they call me, every day, to come out “just a little, a Mhamaidh! It’s so lovely! We will stay near!”
They are so very beautifully patient.
Today, they showed me six different places that are good for making snow-dog-angels
and thus coaxed me further than I have walked in a fortnight.
Doggers know best.
The horizon of bare branches seem two-dimensional, some invention of ink on dawn-washed construction paper
Yet the pines, further back, are clearly further back because they veil themselves in mist.
There are days when one must woof right out of the starting gate just in case. This is one of those days.
Sharing the journey.
It’s nice to walk in company,
Whether we chatter or speak of weighty things or make one another laugh
Or hold companionable silence.
It’s nice to walk alone as well,
But so much better to walk this meandering, surprising, turning path with dogs.
With them all things are adventures,
With them all things are about now and love and discovery.
Thank you, good doggers.
Now the trees look stark.
The snow is not new and lovely,
and it has left the trees’ limbs.
Now it is November, and I reach for sweaters.
A Mahamaidh, do not be ridiculous! It is DOG TIME!
It is always DOG TIME!
And that means it is always good.
I stand corrected. It is DOG TIME!
Every name, my siblings.
I will remember every name.
Good morning, house.
Good morning, dogs.
Good morning, coffee.
(Good morning, frogs??)
Not quite, but it’s good to be home.
The comet has flown in for a visit, trailing a wonderful co-comet.
Dogs are fed and have almost enough cuddling.
The trees are frosted!
The grasses are frosted!
Sgiob has made snow angels, and all is right with the world.
It seems like freezing rain on top of this small snow.
I don’t know a freezing rain from a rain and freeze, but it’s tiny ice when it hits my face and water a quarter-second later, so let’s just say that I’m grateful not to be driving for a while.
The sand truck drove by when the dogs and I were out, lights flashing.
There’s a morning train at about five, and it’s over in Vermont, but we can feel it here rumbling the valley. I only notice it if I’m awake.
The soccer ball’s air has expanded so that it’s no longer easy to pick up; they were happy to chase nubby ball but had no interest in it once it held still.
Herded into place, I suppose.
Good morning, grey and lovely November.