January 8th

What a strange and wondrous thing, Morning.

Waking to little feet, little nose –
Waking to scented candles –
Waking to small house sounds –

I do like being the first one up,
But second up is pretty nice, too.

Coffee’s ready.

New Year’s Day, 2020 Common Era

Sgiob and I walked behind the house in the unblemished snow –
very crunchy, very good for snow dog angels –
and then out into the circle.

It’s very scrubby out there and less circular than
Potentially Circular
and that’s all right.

The day itself should be full of Potential
and hot coffee
and knitting.

Two kids,
Two dogs,
Our hearts,
and some sparkly angels.

17 December

The sky right now is deeply, evenly overcast, but there’s moonlight – so the light is evenly diffused and the whole sky glows gently.

I think I’m going to let the blog rest for a week or so during the darkest days in order for my spirit to do the same.

12 December

They did it!

It has been days and days (weeks) since I had the oomph to take a walk.

The dogs took matters into their own hands (paws) and began a campaign of convincing Mamaidh to take them walking.

they were right, it was beautiful!
Arcturus shone redly on one side, and a star I did not know by name on the other, but it shone near the hill of my horizon.

I am combing a beautiful star map and wondering could it have been Alhena?

Lovely to meet you, Alhena. These are Sgiob and Max. I’m Sparrow. Thank you for your beauty.

December 7th

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.

December 5

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…

Stay tuned!

November 27th

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.

November 26th

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.

November 25th

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.