Whatever you’re doing today, I hope the experience includes beauty. But just in case, here’s a little gift from me to you.
I photographed this on the Oh Be Joyful Trail, which seems very fitting. Here’s to the joy of our beautiful natural world!
Our internet was out for much of the day which was a welcome reprieve from election-day reality. I’m headed to the living room for some calming yoga. But first, here’s a little sunflower tableau to brighten the day.
Though we may be battered and weary, onward we go. Keep on shining, people.
Welcome back to another edition of Movement Mondays in which I offer info on how we can support frontline communities who are enduring the worst effects of climate change. Today, we’re revisiting the Willow Project.

Caribou, geese, loons, salmon, polar bears, whales & 13 communities all call the Western Arctic home. Any threat to this robust ecosystem puts all its inhabitants at risk.
Last summer, a federal judge in Alaska rejected permits for the project. In response, the Biden administration is writing a supplemental impact statement. Once that’s completed, it will decide whether to approve the project. The decision is expected by the end of the year.
If approved, the Willow Project would pump more than 500 million barrels of oil over 30 years from a fragile Arctic ecosystem. This would release more than 250 million metric tons of carbon dioxide, according to the analysis and estimates by the Interior Department’s Bureau of Land Management.
My ask this week: write to President Biden here and Interior Secretary Deb Haaland here, asking them to “Stop the Willow Project.”
Solidarity! ✊🏽
This day started off pretty well — among other things, added 20 minutes to my yearly hoop-dancing total — and then Zippy and I went out to deliver food boxes to people via Rocky Mountain Mutual Aid Network. And I think that’s where the day began to feel not-so-good, when we were out and about, and saw that the vast majority of people were unmasked in indoor spaces. It wasn’t news: this is how it’s been for months and months. For some reason, it hit me harder today. How can we as a society normalize mass death and disability? How can we sacrifice our health for “freedom”? What will we do when our healthcare system collapses beneath the weight of our selfishness?emot
Anyway, here’s a pretty flower.
Wishing you and yours a safe and healthy weekend.
We camped at Mueller State Park last week and were gifted with this view out the back windows of our campervan:
It’d started out as “Hey, look! There’s a deer. Wait, there’s another one.” And then we lost count of them browsing and moving through the trees. Zippy saw two bucks with their antlers locked, but I missed that sighting. Still, I’m grateful to have seen these beautiful creatures.
One of the friendliest bird species out there, here are two Gray Jays at our campsite in Mueller State Park. I know they have a reputation as “camp robbers,” but I enjoyed their presence and was glad whenever I had another sighting or heard them making their assortment of sounds off in a tree somewhere.
While running on the trails one morning, I nearly had to come to a full stop to avoid running over a jay in the middle of the trail. Not even my 9,000-feet-elevation huffing and puffing could scare it away.
A friendly and self-assured species, those Gray Jays.
Yesterday I spotted what I thought was a chipmunk on the back fence. But when I got out the binoculars, realized it was a very small squirrel. And when I saw how tentatively it moved on the uneven fence pickets, guessed it was maybe a youngster.
Then I saw this:
Definitely a youngster.
Nut-Munch veterans know exactly how to get at the food. This young one made several failed attempts, sometimes moving even farther from the destination. Eventually, they figured it out and moved closer.
And then . . . success.
Hooray!
I photographed this bee in the open space in early July and hadn’t looked at the image since. But I was intrigued enough just now to go down the online research rabbit hole. “Green bee” gave me too many hits, but “metallic green bee” narrowed the responses.
I’m pretty darned sure this is a Hymenoptera-Halictidae-Agapostemon melliventris, otherwise known as the Honey-tailed Striped Sweat Bee.
Oh, and that pink thing is a thistle. Just kidding . . . it’s a Musk Thistle (Nodding Thistle).
You’re welcome.
This morning started out rough as the weight of all we’re enduring hit me. Sometimes I wish I could live in a happy state of denial (“the pandemic is over and X, Y, Z aren’t happening, either!”), and eagerly greet each new day. Alas, I’m not wired that way.
The good news is, I’m feeling better now.
The birds are singing and the sun is shining.
Gratitude!
And I’m forever grateful that sunflowers exist.
Like many others, I’ve been struggling under the weight of reality. (I started to list the many crises here then realized there’s no need to drag me or my readers down yet again). The point it, stuff’s really hard. Some days I’m not sure how to keep going. Those feelings were so strong a couple mornings ago that I was compelled during my intuition activation session to ask “What’s the point?”
I received five words:
Joy Nature Compassion Justice Peace
They immediately resonated with me and are my new touchstones for keeping me afloat. When I start feeling overwhelmed and defeated, I return to those five words. Today, I dedicate this post to them.
For instance, the JOY I felt when watching Emma enthusiastically splash and drink from the stream while hiking last September.
And on that same hike, glorious NATURE completely rejuvenated my soul.
The best way to live is by showing COMPASSION for others, as exemplified by this child as he helps a lamb reunite with its mother.
https://twitter.com/yoda4ever/status/1533782002964393984
This morning I rejoiced in the news of JUSTICE served in Louisiana after the community organized to defeat Formosa Plastics in its attempt to build one of the world’s largest plastics plants in a Black community. Solidarity!
Finally, there’s always a sense of PEACE when watching birds in our yard, especially in the quiet after a snowfall.
Yes, life’s a hard row to hoe. But there are always glimmers of good along the way. Remember: JOY. NATURE. COMPASSION. JUSTICE. PEACE.