Taking back the color red

The other day I saw a neighbor walking up the street ahead of me. In 2016,  that white woman displayed a political sign in support of Agent Orange (something I don’t think I’ll ever forgive or forget), and when I saw her walking along in her red T-shirt I experienced a surge of anger. That red shirt triggered a stream of expletives about how she supported a white supremacist. (Poor Zippy had to endure that volcanic eruption.) Stupid mean people. Stupid red shirt.

But you know what? All the horrible racist people in this country don’t own the color red. Red is a beautiful color. Red belongs to all of us.

Cave Creek Canyon Ranch. May 16, 2019.

And no one wears it better than this dapper Northern Cardinal.

Dancing with the stars

We’re told to reach for the stars, but sometimes they’re not above us. Sometimes those stars are next to the trail, close enough to touch.

And sometimes if we keep very, very still we  might also catch a glimpse of a fairy dancing among the stars.

Here’s wishing for a magical Monday . . .

 

Fungal in the picture book jungle

I’m trying to add layers of text to my nonfiction picture book and am feeling a bit overwhelmed by the gap between my vision for this project and the reality of what it looks like thus far. In my mind, this project is pure AWESOME. However, the manuscript currently feels more like a collection of fits and starts.

So I’m posting this magic mushroom as a reminder of how intricate details come together to create a whole. One gorgeous layer at a time.

Resting in the grace of the world

Green Heron, Kapok Park. January 11, 2019

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. ~ Wendell Berry

Sunday Confessional: I created a zombie bird!

I realize not everyone shares my love of all things bird, but I’m in awe of those feathered creatures and spend lots and lots of time gazing upon them.

However, my current gaze is not one of admiration. Moments ago when I finally looked closely at this photo I took in May, I was taken aback at how utterly freakish and zombie-like this white ibis appears.  And now I’m gazing at this picture in horror. I can’t look away.

What kind of camera settings were in place to create that dead eye and white-plastic body? Is this the first sign of an ibis-led zombie apocalypse?

Hitchhikers

This morning Zippy and I ran on the trails in the open space. It’s hot here so I carried a full bottle of water in a waist pack. I drank it all as we went along (sharing a few swallows with Zippy) which lightened my load. When we got home I removed my shoes and sweaty socks. This is what I plucked from them:

Look at all that extra weight I unknowingly carried. What clever little hitchhiking seeds!

Bee my friend

Just went out on my patio which I mostly avoid because of my overwhelm regarding invasive weeds, cherry tree stump, and the general vibe of gardens run amok. But the anxiety I felt when I saw all the bind weed busily choking out my preferred plants disappeared when I tuned into the buzzzzzzzzz.

Yes, I have a weed issue. However, my gardens are full of bee-butterfly-bird-friendly flowers. And they’re out in force today.

Here is my very favorite bee. This one, unlike the others I photographed, didn’t hide behind the flowers or fly off before I got focused. This bee was very accomodating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for coming to my garden, friend.

 

Substitute bloom

Purple Coneflowers are currently blooming in my garden, but this photo is from a year ago. Why? Because it’s currently 91 degrees and I don’t want to be outside taking pictures in the blindingly-bright, sweat-inducing heat.

Sometimes substitution is the best policy.

Dose of nature + friendship

Today I got out of bed at 5:50 a.m. and did some stretching before heading out to meet friend and critique partner Laura Perdew for a hike in Centennial Cone Park. According to my Garmin, we hiked 8.59 miles. The GPS didn’t clock our discussion, but it included conversation about writing, children, spouses, writing, families of origin, wildflowers, proper pronunciation of “penstemon” (turns out we’re both correct), writing, trailrunning, and mountain bikers. Here’s a sampling of the natural glory we witnessed along the way:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a beautiful day and I’m so grateful for the dose of nature + friendship. Thank you, Laura, for being my hiking buddy and generous writing partner. You’re the best.

Looking at you, Monday

Limpkin. Kapok Park, May 6, 2019.

Monday, Monday.
Can’t trust that day.

However, it does feel good knowing what day of the week it is, even if it’s the dreaded Monday, after being disoriented for much of last week when every day felt like a weekend day.

It’s good to know where I stand. Hello, Monday. Let’s do this.