Natural Boys

145 :: Natural Boys

I told her that if she opened a preschool, it would immediately fill with the happiest toddlers in the neighborhood! These boys adore her and the endless games she invents for them. Today, they were her “Natural Boys,” following her around everywhere, listening to her every direction.

Tunnel of Love

145 :: Learning to Ride

The girls and I were talking about what we love about living at Gousty and what we love about living on our hill in Suttons Bay. We miss our gardens in Suttons Bay, and we miss our light-filled rooms on the hill. We like being able to hop on our bikes and ride down to Little Bees. And we miss our dear neighbors.

But it doesn’t take much explanation to get to the heart of our love for Gousty. Every time I walk through the “tunnel of love” I am simply filled with the feeling that there is no where else in the world I would rather live.

Then I turn the corner and see the beautiful land that my parents have tended and loved and lived on for 26 years, and well, this is it.

145 :: Gousty Light

Washing Wild Leeks

138 :: Washing Wild Leeks

I adore this tiny man, standing up at the sink, helping Papa with fermentation projects. Give this little boy a sink full of water and a few kitchen utensils and he gladly “help” in the kitchen for at least a half an hour.

At Home At Old Gousty

120 :: Mug Boy

We are here for the month of May, and soaking up every moment of living in the beautiful Gousty woods.

120 :: Good Morning Ladies

121 :: Drawing Together

124 :: Bird In

(Shh . . . don’t tell Suzie that a bird tried to come inside while I was making dinner one night!)

121 :: Evening Light

124 :: James and Juniper

124 :: Dunescape

This land will always be my home.

124 :: Dune Light

122 :: Outside Copywork

Squeezing in a little school work . . . and cousin time.

121 :: Big Eye

126 :: Birthday Sign

124 :: Cousin Snack

124 :: Evening Walk

124 :: First Bouquet

126 :: Birthday Making

Catching Up in April :: Reflections on My Daily Photo Project

108 :: Bur Oak

I’m behind in posting my daily photos this month. There is so much life happening here every day — homeschooling, games, play, getting ready for spring, house projects, spring snow, more spring snow . . . and I’m catching just little bits of it on the camera.

Recently, the girls were looking through some photo books from the past couple of years with Wallace, and as I listened to them reflecting on the pictures, and remembering moments together, I realized how these daily photos have — collectively — come to mean something to them.

I started a 365 project in 2016 primarly for myself. These were my goals then: To nurture my creative voice. To encourage myself to see beauty in our everyday life. To be an active part of a photography community. And to see my family more deeply, with more dimension, and with more reverence.

When I continued taking daily photos in 2017, my goal was “to keep practicing the arts of photography and writing and use these tools as a way to pay attention and express gratitude.” I’ve continued in 2018, with a similar goal. Taking photos does help me to pay attention. Seeing though the lens of a camera has become one of the very important ways that I practice gratitude. Because of this, these photos matter deeply to me.

But years from now, I hope these photos will also matter, in different ways — in ways I maybe cannot imagine — to my children.

106 :: Table Top

103 :: Massive Marble Run

106 :: Garden Plans

105 :: Super Snow

107 :: Uncle James

108 :: Game Over

109 :: Branches

110 :: Games

110 :: April Eve

111 :: Stove Top Repairs

112 :: Right in the Middle

110 :: April 21st

Rilke

98 :: Sick Baby and Rilke

Ich bin, du Ängstlichen, Horst du mich nicht

I am, you Anxious one.

Don’t you sense me, ready to break
into being at your touch?
My mumurings surround you like shadowy wings.
Can’t you see me standing before you
cloaked in stillness?
Hasn’t my longing ripened in you
from the beginning
as fruit ripens on a branch?

I am the dream you are dreaming.
When you want to awaken, I am that wanting:
I grow strong in the beauty you behold.
And with the silence of stars I enfold
your cities made by time.

— Rilke’s Book of Hours