spring snow

Officially, it is spring. Yet, thick, heavy clouds drifted in over the mountains and gifted us with hours of beautiful, sticky snow today. I walked for a time in the quiet of the falling snow, then down by Rattlesnake creek which isn't so silent as it rushes down this valley. My cousins recently named their first child "Zephyr Oak" and I thought of this little one and the beauty of his name, speaking both to the movement and change that life will undoubtedly bring him, and also to the hope that he will grow with strength and stability amid it all. I thought of this as I watched how gentle snowfall seemed to render my surroundings so silent and still, and then as I closed my eyes, absorbing the clatter of the creek toward the larger Clark Fork River, just a mile or two down its course. I reflect today on stillness and movement, wondering about the seasons for each and if there is a balance to be found between their extremes.



the PEAS farm


rattlesnake creek


sitting by the creek


looking through ponderosas


fat robin in a clearing


clouded, snowy mt. jumbo

the weeks go by...

and it is practically thanksgiving. let me just back up briefly for a few highlights.

early october: an attempted hike up trapper peak with than, foiled due to snow, but so pretty nonetheless.




mid-october: a trip to denver to visit these lovely people.





early november: an election day filled with much hopeful waiting, and then celebration at its happy end.

it is so much easier to envision a world filled with more hope for wisdom and goodness, walking in this space with children, watching the clouds shift quickly and beautifully over and through the mountains. so, rather than last-minute canvassing, i chose a hike with three wonderful members of my extended famiy...






... and celebrated with family and friends at the end of the day.




happy thanksgiving!

autumn in glacier

i am thankful for the deep beauty of this place and the way the changing seasons now call my attention to the landscape in new ways. several weekends ago, i hiked in glacier national park on a shining autumn day that filled my senses with dazzling vistas, cool, clear mountain air and sun, autumn color (!) everywhere, the burst of fresh, cold, purple huckleberries in my mouth, and although the larger wildlife stayed hidden, i also heard elk bugling. so, here are a few photos from the day: a few landscapes, and a few of the crisp and vibrant autumn foliage, including golden-turning aspens, and late-season huckleberries.



























To sit and look at light-filled leaves
May let us see, or seem to see,
Far backward as through clearer eyes
To what unsighted hope believes...

from III, by Wendell Berry in A Timbered Choir

the deep of the valley

How deep in the valley must you stay
To know why your footsteps led you that way
The way on may be truly to stand in one place
And let the deep of the valley
Fill you will grace

-from "how deep in the valley" by Sarah Harmer (album: I'm a Mountain)

mindful.

"the treasure of happiness, the Kingdom of Heaven may be called the ultimate dimension of reality. when you see only waves, you might miss the water. but if you are mindful, you will be able to touch the water within the waves as well. once you are capable of touching the water, you will not mind the coming and going of the waves. you are no longer concerned about the birth and the death of the wave. you are no longer afraid. you are no longer upset about the beginning or the end of the wave, or that the wave is higher or lower, more or less beautiful. you are capable of letting these ideas go because you have already touched the water."
-Thich Nhat Hanh

dedicated to than...

who has listened to much of my "storming" and "seething" over the past several months and achieves a little higher on the equanimity scale than i do. it's good to have such a family member. also, i wanted an excuse to post at least one of these fabulous hippopotamus photos from st. lucia in south africa. do click on the photo to get a better view of the smiling fellow (or lady) in the middle of the pod. isn't that a great smile?




The Hippo

The hippo floats in swamp serene,
some emerged, but most unseen.

Seeing all and only blinking,
Who knows what this beast is thinking.

Gliding, and of judgment clear,
Letting go and being here.

Seeing all, both guilt and glory,
Only noting. But that's MY story.

I sit here hippo-like and breathe,
While inside I storm and seethe.

Would that I were half equanimous
As that placid hippopotamus.

By Steven Hickman

kansas goodness.

last saturday saw my parents, my grandparents, and myself aboard a rented purple minivan heading across the good states of illinois, iowa, missouri, and kansas. yes, i'm nearing my 30th birthday, i'm still unemployed, and road-tripping with my parents and grandparents!

my mother's side of the family has long had a foothold in lawrence, kansas. two of her siblings attended KU, one of them still lives there with her teenage son, another cousin and her husband own a farm south of town, and her parents just bought a place a mile down the road. now, one of my dear friends, leia, lives further downstate with her husband and their two cats.

i spent the week enjoying kansas goodness: drinking the endless cups of tea thrust into my hands by my aunts; laughing a good deal; traipsing around my cousin's farm followed by two dogs and two cats; getting reacquainted with "pantalon," the african grey parrot that lived with us in kenya for many years but who, since my parents' move to the U.S., now makes her home on a farm in kansas yet still speaks in my father's voice, whistles like my mother, and says merry christmas year-round; cooking and eating good meals; resting in the comfort and love of this part of my family. oh, and i can spend hours and hours chatting with leia over a bottle or two of wine - and i did just that when i made the trek to her and dan's peaceful little abode one evening.

i spotted my first crocuses of the season in my cousin's yard and we ran into some migrating snow geese on the drive back to illinois somewhere in eastern iowa. y'all know what these things mean, i think.