She eats...

And she sleeps.

That's my cat.

The road less traveled

The window was small yesterday, that time between breakfast and sunshine, and the late morning rain. I waited too long, and my walk was cut short. It is my favorite walk, and I'm thankful every time that this piece of heaven is right in my neighborhood.

The woods are so green, in spite of it nearly being winter, with leaves on the ground. The mild days have encouraged the grass to grow, and it's bright green, the color of spring.

I took a walking stick with me today, in case the trail was muddy. It's the perfect walking stick for hiking, finished half natural with bark intact, half rubbed with a piece of beach glass until silky smooth. The stick came from the beach near Neah Bay, nibbled off by a busy beaver, and I love that one end still has the teeth marks.

The horse trail was wet and full of leaves, and the springs were running strong. But the trail is still pretty dry, so no wet feet yet.  

Moments... December begins

A surprising month so far... hummingbirds at the feeders with snow on the ground, and temperatures in the 'teens. The sunshine dappled the snow with shadows... beautiful.

A wee blond girl in pink, one of the grandkids from the house next door, has been exploring the pastures. The Pilot has new tires, ready for the winter I hope will return. I'm longing for a cold and snowy winter; we haven't had one of those for too long.

We met good friends in the city for brews and food and laughter. One more gathering in a couple of weeks, then we won't see them until the new year. I'm finding it hard to put down the new Diana Gabaldon, Written in my Own Heart's Blood. More than 800 pages, but I'm nearly through.

I'm loving my new Lenovo, especially the lighted keyboard for working in the dim light of a winter evening. The tablet mode is pretty cool, too. Perfect for recipes and sewing projects; doesn't take up much counter space at all.

The cold nights brought two farm cats to our barn door, one yellow and white, the other black with a white bib and feet. I've seen them in the barn in the early morning hours. One has claimed a piece of old carpet, the other a pile of cedar shavings. I'd like them to stick around, so will put out food and water for them. They can keep the old truck company.

Progress...

Today was one of those days when everything went right.

James is past her "no, I won't eat" phase and is eating like a horse... or at least like the big-boned old cat that she is. Jessica's horses made the trip to their new home near Shelton, two acres of shady green pasture and a big sand arena for keeping them in shape over the winter. Best of all, there are miles of trails nearby... which means lots of fun rides with my niece in my future.

I made good progress in the studio today, finishing the biggest part of one project, and getting started on another sewing project. The Christmas cards are addressed and ready to mail, and I even have enough stamps, so I can give the post office a wide berth.

The sun came out for about eight minutes in the early afternoon, enough time to grab the camera and run down to the pond to take weed pictures.

Tomorrow I'm meeting a friend for lunch, and will finally get that walk I've been craving. I'm counting on a long, rambling walk on my favorite trail, even if it rains. And who knows what my camera will find?

Rising...

The full moon rose over the small valley that I call home, brushing the tops of the trees as it climbed higher and higher, to flirt with the clouds. On its way, it colored the night sky a rich blue, gilded the edges of the clouds in orange and gold, and nearly disappeared in a flare of brilliant white light.

As the clouds blew through and the moon took sole possession of the night sky, the watercolor textures disappeared, replaced by stark grey and silver floating in a sea of black.

Memories...

It's been 26 years since my father died. I think of him, of my mom, so often.

It's true that the ones you love will always be with you. I know, because they are with me every day. I carry them in my memories, like a blanket that keeps me warm on cold days.

814 pages later...

Holding this book nearly broke my wrist... but it was worth it in the end. Worth putting aside my quilt for five days, turning my back on laundry and the basement floors that need mopping. Worth ignoring the patio furniture that needs to be stored in the barn for the winter, and the pots that should go to the shed. Even worth putting off finishing up a few Christmas gifts.

The snow helped, as did the frigid temperatures that came along with it. Working outside was not remotely what I wanted to do. And the basement is cold, too.

So it wasn't at all hard to choose to read instead, snuggled down in my favorite chair by the wood stove, with my cat within reach.

That's what the short winter days are made for.

Ring around the moon...

The moon was rising as I walked back from the mailbox, and it was breathtaking. Bright and clear in the midnight blue twilight, with a clear ring circling it. The clouds are coming in fast on an east wind... there will be rain tomorrow. 

It's always best in fall or winter, this ring around the moon. Or maybe I take more notice of it, because it rises so early. Or because it always makes me think of the Dan Fogelberg song, In the Passage:

There's a ring around the moon tonight,
and a chill in the air.
And a fire in the stars that hang
So near, so near.

There's a sound in the wind that blows
Through the wild mountain holds
Like the sighs of a thousand crying
Souls, crying souls.

To me, it's the moon of the high country, the mountains, the wind blowing fast and sure over a desert landscape. It brings out a longing in me for those quiet places, the wild places. Somewhere away from the traffic, and the noise that drowns out the sounds of nature.

That's where I want to be.

Photographing trees

I'm on a mission, now that the leaves have fallen and branches are bare. A mission to find those perfect specimen trees to photograph.

There's one in my neighborhood, just a couple of miles from home. A towering maple tree, which stands straight and full in a corner of the pasture, protecting an ancient wooden barn. It's gorgeous in the autumn in yellow and orange, and in spring wearing bright green. But I've never photographed it in winter.

The best stretch of trees I know is in the wide greenbelt of I-90, between North Bend and Snoqualmie Pass. The trees are spectacular here, all kinds from maples to Douglas fir to alders and vine maples. I never pass this way without wanting to stop and pull out my camera. Unfortunately, the roadway and traffic would be in every shot.

These lone specimen trees aren't all that easy to find, at least not trees that are good candidates for photography. I think the search would be a good project for winter.

Moments... Thanksgiving week

We trekked over Snoqualmie Pass through a blizzard, driving for miles behind a rolling roadblock of four snowplows. Our fingers were crossed that we wouldn't need chains, and that our nearly-end-of-life tires would find traction. We came into Leavenworth to find it buried in snow, with every building brightly lit for the holiday season. The weekend was relaxing and full of laughter, as we celebrated Jim's retirement.

There was a release party at Plain Cellars, a fun couple of hours sipping wine and nibbling, talking with new friends, playing with Bella, the new winery puppy. And we also celebrated Julie's birthday with a shopping day in town, followed by German food and Mexican Train... and lots of chocolate.

On Tuesday we had to head for home, following the snow west to the summit, then pouring rain the rest of the way home. We recovered from the long weekend by sleeping in two mornings in a row.

Thursday was a day of giving thanks, sharing laughter and stories with my second family, and snatching some special private time with Jessica, who starts a new job on Monday and moving to the peninsula. Thanksgiving is always a fun time, with great food and wine from my brother-in-law's cellar. This year they planned a surprise blind wine tasting competition, which was great fun. An unwelcome surprise was the dunking of my cell phone in the bathroom... but thankfully the phone survived the experience (as did I).

On Saturday we woke to the first (and completely surprising) snowfall this winter. I think snow is always better, more beautiful, when it's unexpected. This snow reminded me of winters in the Tri-Cities, dry and cold and blowing all around. Snow that sparkled in the sun and frigid temperatures, but rarely iced up the roads, instead staying in fields and lawns and the desert, and lingering for days.

This volunteer holly tree had berries for the first time this year... is that even possible? I don't know, but I'm enjoying the bright red against the dark green of the cedar.