death in the springtime, resurrection

As you might imagine, I've been keeping company with Death quite a bit lately. 

What's funny is that this period of time -- the last month really, overlapping perfectly this rapprochement with Carla, at the very end of her journey -- has been one of such intense work, for both The Husband and me.

We're both doing exactly what we should be doing -- working our asses off at what we love, what we do.

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Country Mouse Monday: aaaah, seeds ordered...

The Baker Creek seed catalog is seriously my most favorite garden-porn -- 211 whole pages of luscious photos of gorgeous food and flowers, a feast for the eyes.

Garden dreams like these illuminate every dark winter.

The catalog's been been sitting on the coffee table for a couple of months now.  I gobbled it as soon as it arrived, page by page, imagining this summer's garden,

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work: what i'm made of

It's a good thing I love this view because I sure am seeing it a lot these days.  

It's the view from my desk at my still-new job, new since mid-January. Basically, I work in paradise, I'm not kidding, in the middle of a park-setting, people walking their dogs by all day, squirrels and birds and trees and green and sun. Paradise.

Which is really nice. But not essential.

Because for me, work is its own kind of paradise.

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Country Mouse Monday: Spring, sprung!

welcome, baby lettuce!After months of winter, what a wonder to awaken, like everything around us, to rush out into the morning as soon as it's light to behold what new marvel has unfolded...

And so it is with the first seeds of the season, some sown directly into the soil (sweet peas, carnations, sweet william), some into the starting tray. 

Fresh miracles, every single time!

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little sunny island

The Saturday morning hike begins almost immediately with a mile-long straight-up climb to the ridge.  When I started this morning, I was cold, but had deliberately dressed for the heat generated by that incline, knowing I'd be sweating soon, even as I shivered on my way to the trailhead.  

It's a treat living where I live, where wild turkeys and coyotes are a frequent sight and signs promise the presence of mountain lions.  The terrain, the vistas, generally deliver the precise medicine I most need.

Today, for example, I emerged from the steep forested trail onto a world submerged in fog, no sign of the rest of the county, the bay, San Francisco beyond. 

Just me and Burnsy on a sunny island above the clouds.

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