It’s Hard to Remember

336 :: Reluctant Dog and Boy

Sunshine is a gift.

Even with a sore back, I want to be outside today, moving around, face illuminated by the light, blinded by sparkle and white, taking compost to the chickens, pulling a sled, gathering frozen kale from a garden covered in snow.

Wallace isn’t so sure.
He drags behind, thick in his suit, collapsing onto the ground, pulling off his mittens.
Protesting.

I make my way down to the chicken coop.
Theo waits, curious about compost but leery of the electric fence, making dog-breath steam in the bright, icy air.
Watching me.

At bedtime, snuggled under the covers, Wallace wonders about fireflies.
“Do you remember how they light up, blinking, all over our front field?” I ask him.
“In the summer?
When it is warm and humid in the tall grass?”

But it’s hard to remember
in December.

Magic

148 :: Bird

“In some ways poetry is most akin to magic. Every poem is a sort of spell.”

– A New Treasury of Poetry, Compiled by Neil Philip

Holding a tiny fluffy life in your very own hands is a sort of poem too, don’t you think?

SCHOOL

126 :: Bubbles

SCHOOL

You’re like a little wild thing
that was never sent to school.
Sit, I say, and you jump up.
Come, I say, and you go galloping down the sand
to the nearest dead fish
with which you perfume your sweet neck.
It is summer.
How many summers does a little dog have?

Run, run, Percy.
This is our school.

– Mary Oliver

I think Mary Oliver would have made a wonderful homeschooling mom . . . for dogs and kids!

January Morning

20 :: Into the Day

Oh, this morning. Breathtaking over the lake. The light. The way the clouds move. Misty blowing snow.

And look at her, taking him out early to let out the chickens, while I am still upstairs, just getting out of bed.

22 :: Feeding the Birds

Landscape

361 :: This Landscape

“I think it makes a huge difference, when you wake in the morning and come out of your house, whether you believe you are walking into dead geographical location, which is used to get to a destination, or whether you are emerging out into a landscape that is just as much, if not more, alive as you, but in a totally different form, and if you go towards it with an open heart and a real, watchful reverence, that you will be absolutely amazed at what it will reveal to you.” — John O’Donohue

361 :: Serious Sledding