Zane Kathryne Schwaiger

Candle Wreaths

316 :: Candle Wreaths

It’s so wintery outside today — the girls and I were inspired to go out and gather little bits of red and green to make candle wreaths for the dinner table. I love to watch the enthusiasm they bring to these little projects that we’ve been doing together since they were tiny and it was mostly me doing the crafting. Now, it is mostly them. And I’m just the photographer.

Saying Goodbye

284 :: Nasturtims

We are saying goodbye to the garden for the next two weeks. I love this time of year so much, and it is hard to leave, knowing that these nasturtiums will likely not be standing tall when we return.

They’ve given us their spicy sweet all summer long. Wandering around the garden, I gather one last bouquet and inhale deeply before we adventure off across the Atlantic Ocean.

A New Landscape Every Morning

281 :: This Color

The colors seem especially brilliant this year with all the rain and overcast skies.

279 :: Sisters on the Farm

281 :: Purple Mushrooms

More so than any season, in October I feel I’m like going out into a new landscape every morning.

280 :: Off We Go

278 :: Cosmos at Sunset

282 :: Boy Making Roads

I find that I want to spend as much time as I can outside, even in the rain.

278 :: Finding Asparagus

And
I want to tell you about reaching up
into the apple tree
to pick a wild apple,
when a shower came down from the leaves
and a drop fell on the corner of my right eye
and rolled down my face —
a single tear.

282 :: Apple Tears

Sage

277 :: Sage

Kneeling down
in the sage
after nighttime revelations,
headaches and sick toddlers,
rain for days,
cold and wet and lovely
and always
so many gifts outside
beckoning us to come
and gather.

“You make it too easy”
he said.

Too easy?
Should I reject “too easy,” I ask;
should I stay inside, withholding,
rather than walk into the wet, wild world
calling with rain?

October Green

273 :: Wooded

Bringing in the house plants that spent the summer outside; wondering at how much they’ve grown; getting soil all over the kitchen table and floor and counter . . .

271 :: Succulent

274 :: October Poetry

274 :: Maybe the Last Bouquet?

The greenhouse seed babies are thriving and this little man has been busy making a mud pit full of “hot cocoa” just outside the door. I’m thinning and he’s brewing; so come on over for some cool microgreens and warm drinks! I love gardening in this giant terrarium on the cusp of autumn. It’s such a paradox to watch new life burst forth as everything else outside slows down and lets go.

272 :: Back to Work in the Greenhouse

276 :: Mud Land