Mending

After three busy days, I finally have a free morning. There is a stack of items on my cedar chest waiting for mending. I retrieve my sewing kit and pull out the collection of threads. Threading the tiny needle is a challenge. I switch to a bigger one. As I make each stitch, I am struck by the quietness of this activity and how antiquated it seems. I was taught this by a generation that has passed. Most would simply throw away these ripped items. Perhaps, I should be doing that myself. Instead, I am enjoying the motion of the needle through the material, how it pushes through and then loops around, closing the gaps. Everything seems so different than the way it was when I grew up. When I told my students about riding my bike through a narrow path in the pine woods, or imagining things as I played outside in my backyard, creating my own inner world, they looked at me with wistful faces and said, “We want to have that, too.”

One Box at a Time

I have embarked on a major de-cluttering project in the basement. When I left home, my mom told me to keep a shoe box of receipts for each year. I have done this religiously and am now shredding “a box a day.” Right now, I am processing 1986 and it is fascinating to see a number of things: my checking account interest was 5.25%; many of the retail stores I did business with are now gone, i.e. The Denver Dry Goods; even names of former hair salons and dentists bring back vivid images. My intention is to shred all but the last ten years. This will clear a huge amount of space and allow me to look at all the things that were behind the boxes, like jigsaw puzzles that I can also sort through, deciding which ones to donate. It feels good! On Sunday, we amassed a huge donation for ARC and filled the dumpster in our alley.

The Day Before Christmas

As I walk to Whole Foods to pick up a few more ingredients for Christmas dinner, I pass by a tall hedge that spans half a block. A raucous chatter emerges, all from tiny birds which have made this their habitat. Hearing them sing brings a smile–and a reminder that gifts are all around us each day!

 

Contrasting Environments

NYCA week in the densely populated east coast. Commerce and anonymous humans dominate.

There are epic lines at the Starbucks, unlike any I’ve ever seen.

I reach for something to hold while on crowded buses and trains that have no empty seats. This is what it is like when 9 million people share a small island.

Restlessness builds inside me.

My feet ache to feel dirt beneath them, a trail stretching out in front of me, through a meadow filled with tall, yellow grass.

Climbing higher, until I am in a snow filled cirque, the outline of mountain ridges circling me,
bringing me home.

The emptiness of wilderness, where I can breathe and truly be alive.

Co-existence

Meadow

Hiking through a meadow of golden grasses, I spotted this tree curved around a boulder. Returning to trail head, the last mile of 12 in the dark, was a bit spooky. Even though we were tired, cold and hungry, the exhilaration of the day left us feeling fulfilled and grateful for the wilderness.

tree-rock