We spent a wonderful morning at the Dennos Museum completely drawn into the work of Cory Trepanier. Amabel said she could sit in front of just one of his paintings for days. I completely agree. The way he captures light on the landscape is breathtaking.
To Know the Dark
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
“The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry,” Counterpoint, 1998: p. 68.
I find myself revisiting this very Novemberish poem. Going dark.
A happy bird story for you today!
This sweet hen went missing after the girls attempted to keep her safe from the aggressive roosters. (Grandmommy had a theory that she was secretly in love with one of the roos and quietly followed him into the wild.) Looking back at my photos, I see that little puffy cheeks had been gone for a whole week . . . but this afternoon the girls discovered her under the apple tree behind the house, and we all rejoiced!
She is our sole Ameraucana chicken; she lays those beautiful light blue eggs we so adore. We’re so glad to have you back in the flock, little one.
214 cloves in the ground. And just in time; it’s supposed to snow 6 inches the day-after-tomorrow!
I couldn’t have done it without the help of my beautiful girls. I believe they are coming to love the rhythm of growing garlic nearly as much as I do. These magical cloves will meditate underground all winter and greet us early in the spring. In nine months time, we will pull them out of the earth and give thanks for their gift of abundance once again.
I have a lot to learn from garlic this year: stillness, quiet, solitude, patience.