My pears have started falling off the tree. They look – yes, yellower. Right? And they taste really sweet and juicy. Worth waiting for. That ripeness. That color. Who likes to wait? Who likes that – “just a few more minutes/days/ months?” And yet, we know. It’s always that last – what – 2%? That […]

I’m seeing yellow. I brought it to mind. Now it jumps out at me. This dear butterfly has landed on my joe pie weed. That plant is common here – and is now in full bloom at the end of summer. The pollinators love it. And I love seeing them. At the end of summer:

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These pears fell off my tree. We were pruning it to get rid of those darn tent caterpillars. I had thought I’d forfeit the whole tree, but lo and behold, there were so many pears on it this year! As you can see, they are NOT exactly ripe. Who knows if any will be edible

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I found some yellow! I wasn’t sure I had any. The exceptional French dyes I’ve relied on for years have been discontinued. Which means, I have what I have: no replenishing from Tinfix (which undoubtedly sounds more beautiful when spoken with the proper accent). Yes. I’m looking for yellow. The outlines of plants are just

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I had an exquisite time walking with my friend, Jan, today. Because of the way our lives and the world have unfolded in the last year, we hadn’t seen each other for so long we couldn’t recall when it was. It hardly mattered. We picked right up again. At one point, Jan asked me how

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One of the huge blessings of this house on the lake is that it is really ON the lake. I look outside my windows into the water. It’s a good 3 feet deep at it’s shallowest. Boats once came into the area that I now sit. And in this spot I can look out and

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Right now, what matters seems significant. SIGNIFICANT. And what people are moved to create likely reflects that feeling. That what is put out must resonate. Matter. This is what I’m getting when I peruse the art journals. All are trying to be WITH the news. To be on course. I just happen to pick up

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Ariella left for NH yesterday. Briefly, I saw other family members who are staying there now, as they came to swoop her up. And then left. I was bereft. Ariella and I had been in this little house together for – well, since mid-March. Mostly seeing just each other. Mixed with delightful afternoons babysitting for

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Can you tell I’m spending time with a young child? Talking about a lot the bears. Feeling close. Everything seems close now. Close to my home. Close to the ground, as I walk the woods. Close to my family, even those not physically close. How can close feel so so good? I recall how, before

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Yesterday, a friend mentioned driving. To another city. More than 15 minutes away. I wondered to myself, “When will I do that?” As I contemplated life on the other side of the glass curtain. The glass curtain of my reality. Inside that curtain: quieter days than I’ve lived in so long. One after another. With

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