Around the Corner

February is always filled with surprises. Early in February chilled winds blow through our evergreens reminding us that winter is not finished with the Pacific Northwest. By mid-month we usually begin to see traces of sunshine again, days with bright, warm light filtering through the green boughs. Vitamin D in its natural form awaits me as I approach the courtyard of our home to bask in the light which for months has shone itself in someone else's gardens.

We spent some time in our gardens on Sunday, walking through to examine new growth, welcoming the green stems and leaves peeping through the mulch. A beautiful purple crocus had opened, the first of the season! Many others are close behind, and the lenton rosebuds should open within the week. Heather shimmers in pale pink and lavender throughout the gardens as it spreads in horizontal clumps.

We pruned the roses growing against the courtyard wall and were delighted to see the dwarf irises breaking ground in front of them. We love these tiny lily-like yellow flowers that bloom in profusion among hyacinths and tulips each spring. Our early blooming mauve rhododendron is budding. It blooms with the daffodils and the purple and rose tulips nearby making a beautiful lavender and pink swath across the front of the gardens. The silver gray leaves of the dusty miller, a perennial here despite our garden zone of 7, form beautiful contrasting color to the shades of pink.

I can hardly wait for the George Tabor azalea to bloom. I spent 1 full year trying to get this azalea along with its cousin, the purple Formosa, shipped here. They are grown in southern climates and are found no where here in the Puget Sound region despite the temperate winter climate we have. A local nursery was finally able to arrange shipment of both, a task made difficult by the strict shipping regulations mandated in the west in an effort to prevent Sudden Oak Death, a disease spread via woody stemmed shrubs. Only nurseries which have been physically inspected by the USDA and certified as compliant with regulations related to Sudden Oak Death are allowed to transport shrubs in and out of the area. I have enjoyed my George Tabor so much that I want 8 more and hope the local nursery can assist me once again. The blooms look like orchids, pink with magenta throats.

Our spring garden project will be to lay the flagstone pathway through the woodland garden area. We purchased the stone last year but found no time to lay it before the damp chill of late fall forced us to retreat to our recliners and fireplace. This pathway has its challenges since it winds among huge evergreens with tangled roots above ground in many places. Consequently, we will be unable to dig out the path and will have to lay it above ground and fill in around it with sand and mulch, raising the level of the gardens in that area. This pathway will lead to a bench on one side of the woodland gardens and to a seating area with a small table where we can have tea or late, summer morning breakfasts at the other end of the path.

Soon the palette of spring colors will splash itself across the landscape and move quickly through the cycles which bring summer to our home. Bulbs will burst open in shades of purple, pink, yellow, lavender, white, red, and blue. It begins with the L-shaped bank of the courtyard as the candytuft opens in white and joins the blue lithodora blooms. Beyond it a magical show will begin, first with primroses, lenton roses, daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips. Next we'll see the dwarf irises and hardy dwarf tulips open in yellows and oranges followed by the early rhododendrons. Daphne O'doro's fragrant white blooms will perfume the air as will the Tea Olive shrub we've planted in memory of my uncle. We are drawn to the aromatic fragrance and pause often to take it in.

Huge clumps of purple heather form a background to spring blooms,and later to the bearded irises. These irises, many 30 inches tall, will grab our gaze along the pathway as they line the walk along the sunny trail. In mid May the azaleas and rhododendrons will bloom in masses of pinks and purples throughout the gardens. One blood-red rhodie demands our attention, and we will admire it until its last bloom falls. In late May the hydrangeas will throw their huge mopheads along the pathway shadowing it in pinks, whites, and blues while tall stalks of Asian lilies reach 5 feet tall across the path. Finally the perennials, dressed in every color on the wheel, will burst open in a fiery colored river that moves along the rocks and fills in all the empty spaces in the gardens. These blooms mix with more silvery-gray dusty miller, clumps of blue fescue, and the silvered thin leafed lavender plants with their swaying stems of purple flowers. Rich, green ferns contrast the textures of the gardens and bring a lush, almost tropical look. No wonder we are gardening addicts! How could anyone resist such results? It is a quick fix for those of us who suffer the color deprivation of our long, drizzly winters. And, this show doesn't end until October!

Spring, we are ready for your renewal!



"Spring has again returned.
The Earth is like a child who knows many poems..."
Rainer Maria RilkeSonnets to Orpheus, XXI

All photography is from our private collection and may not be reproduced or used in any manner without our explicit and written permission.

The Liar's Diary - Patry Francis

On January 29th The Liar's Diary, a suspenseful novel by Patry Francis, is being released in paperback by Plume. The hard cover edition was released February, 2007 by Dutton and was followed by a publicity tour which took Patry to various places across the country. It was my pleasure to meet her and her husband, Ted, in Seattle and to spend an evening with them. As delightful in person as she is in her blog posts at Simply Wait, Patry is a source of inspiration and remarkable story telling.

When a book is released the publisher and author design a publicity campaign for promoting the new book. Patry's book tour in 2007 was exciting and fun as she traveled to parts of the country she had never been, browsed interesting, new bookstores as she traveled, and saw her first novel being sold. She enjoyed meeting blogging friends and total strangers as she shared stories and promoted The Liar's Diary while doing readings and answering questions. Unfortunately, she is unable to promote the paperback release because she is recovering from cancer related surgery. Her prognosis is very good, but she is unable to travel about at this time and faces one more surgical procedure in March. Blogging friends have decided to join together to promote the release of the paperback, The Liar's Diary, by blogging about this fascinating book on January 29th. I could not possibly let the day go by without adding my two cents!

What fun it was to receive my copy of The Liar's Diary from Amazon in early 2007. I was unable to put it down once I opened the book. I reminded myself of those commercials about potato chips, the ones that say you can't stop eating them once you begin. Well, I just could not stop reading this seductive mystery with its twists and turns. I sat in my recliner for hours at a time turning pages and thinking, trying to figure out where the plot was really headed. Midway into the book I began to try to cast the movie in my head! I was enthralled with this thriller Patry had written about the relationship between two women who became unlikely friends, about loyalty, betrayal, secrets, and truth. I am sure you will enjoy it, too. The paperback edition is available on Tuesday, January 29th, at Amazon among other booksellers. Give yourself a reading treat. Then buy a copy for a friend!

Library Journal
"Kudos to Francis for this chilling study of a deeply disturbed, dysfunctional family, its crimes, and its fate."

New York Daily News
“Outright chilling.”

Bookreporter.com
"Patry Francis has written a great first novel. Completely pulling the readers into the storyline, this journey takes you through self-reflection, sensitivity and empathy....It's a cruel world out there, but the author excels at exposing the world within."

Patry Francis's writings, both poetry and short stories, have appeared in the Tampa Review, Colorado Review, Ontario Review, and The American Poetry Review among other national publications. She is a three-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize and has twice been awarded the Massachusetts Cultural Council Grant. The Liar's Diary is her first novel. You may visit Patry's website to learn more about her and read a synopsis of her novel. Her blog called Simply Wait is surely worth a visit. The Liar's Diary is available in hard cover, paperback, CD audio, Cassette audio, and MP3 CD audio.

Congratulations, Patry! Many good wishes for your return to good health
and more fabulous writing! Your public awaits you!

What Is Lost

Since late New Year's day I have followed a local Atlanta story, one that became a national news event within 48 hours. Meredith Emerson, a resident from Longmont, Colorado who had graduated from the University of Georiga and was employed in a small community just north of Atlanta, was missing. She had taken her Lab mix pup, Ella, on a hike in Vogel State Park, a beautiful state park in the north Georgia mountains. Its lake and forested trails make Vogel popular with outdoor enthusiasts. It is here that hikers are connected to the beginning of the Appalachian Trail, a trail that winds from Georgia to Maine.

Eventually those of us who read the updates learned Meredith had last been seen walking along the trail with a 61 year old male whose dog frolicked with hers. They were seen walking and talking while their dogs scampered along the trail. He carried a backpack and an expandable police baton strapped along his leg. Several people noticed them and eventually reported these viewings to police. Soon this man, Gary Hilton, became a person of interest.

Time passed and searches continued for Meredith, none successful. Many volunteers and professional search teams scoured the area where her car was found; mittens, dog leash, a bottle of water, and a baton were scattered close by. Search areas expanded across a very large expanse of Vogel State Park, then switched again to a small, targeted area.

Over the weekend Ella walked into a grocery store in Cumming, Georgia, a small town in Forsyth County north of Atanta. She walked into the same grocery store where our friends shop each week. A shopper picked up the pup and took her to a Vet two blocks away hoping to find a place of safety for her until her owners could be found. The Vet identified Ella via the implanted ID chip she wore. Ella was now about 40+ miles from where she and Meredith were last seen. Police swarmed the area and found Meredith's wallet, UGA ID, a piece of bloody seatbelt, and 3 fleece tops like those Meredith wore, saturated in blood, all in a dumpster across the street from the grocery store. A telephone near the dumpster contained Hilton's fingerprints.

Within a few hours Hilton was spotted about 25 miles away within the Metro Atlanta area in DeKalb County. He was in the parking lot of a convenience store cleaning his van with a vacuum and a solution of bleach and water. A rear seatbelt of the van was missing. He was taken into custody and booked on "kidnapping with intent to do bodily injury" charges. GBI questioned him, but he did not cooperate. A surveillance tape in another GA county, northwest of where Hiton was located, revealed Hilton using Meredith's ATM card.

More search teams were dispersed, some near the grocery store where Ella had been found. Plans were developed to send other teams to the multiple locations now involved in the case. Another recent crime case, an hour from Vogel State Park, came to the attention of authorities, a case where an older couple, hiking in NC's Pisgah National Forest, went missing. The woman had been killed by a blow to the head; the man was still missing. A man wearing a yellow jacket like Hilton's was seen on surveillance tapes using their ATM card.

With a promise by police not to pursue the death penalty Hilton agreed on Monday to help them locate Meredith Emerson's body. She was found in a huge wildlife management area called Dawson Forest in yet another north Georgia county. Based on the autopsy, she had been killed by a fatal blow to the head on Friday and then decapitated. She had lived 3 days beyond her kidnapping.

I am grieving. I did not know Meredith Emerson. I did not know the killer. I grieve for a family who lost a young daughter with a full life in front of her, for a puppy who lost her mom, and for Meredith's friends and loved ones who will miss her always. I grieve for all the Georgians who no longer feel safe in a beautiful state park in the north Georgia mountains, a park where I spent many hours enjoying my youth through middle age.

I am sad that danger like this lurks in nature, sad that exploring the peaceful forests, walking the hiking trails, and taking in the beautiful mountainous landscapes now carry significant fear. This issue moves beyond the Georgia mountains. I have never been able to enjoy the Cascades alone for just such reasons. In October we found a beautiful spot in the Cascade Mountains, a spot perched by the river and perfect for summer outings. I thought how nice it would be to take my visiting girlfriends there for picnics on lazy summer days and show them the magnificent Cascades. Immediately I began assessing how safe the area might be, determining where I could park the car so we could easily access it if anyone came near. I resent the need to think this way, to plan and be prepared. I enjoy spontaneity. But, my husband and I try to remain aware of our surroundings and anyone who encroaches when we are out exploring.

We live near an area where Ted Bundy kidnapped 2 women and dumped some of his victims 30 years ago during his killing spree in the Seattle area. These are facts I keep in mind. After moving to the Pacific NW I wondered about the serial killers (Bundy, Ridgway, to name 2) who roamed this area. The topography, the evergreen wilderness and undeveloped mountains, provides a screen of privacy and freedom for the criminal mind. I grieve that this is part of the world in which we all live. When I was young we were not afraid in the forests except perhaps of stepping on a snake we might not see.

I am angry that violent death has come to the mountains I've loved in my home state, angry that violation and murder have splashed them with fear, eroding the tranquility which resided in nature's glorious home. I am sorry my nieces who are only now discovering this area will never have the same sense of safety in these mountains I have loved so much.

I grieve for what is lost.

Gifts to Ourselves

Fireworks over Shanghai, photograph used with permission, courtesy of photographer, 
Jian Shuo Wang.

Choose a word, or two or three. Make them yours. Give them to yourself in 2008. Let me offer them as wishes in this new year as we greet this day.

Passion, Joy, Peace, Adventure, Love, Insight, Happiness, Wealth, Luck, Endurance, Prosperity, Understanding, Patience, Balance, Laughter, Flexibility, Health, Strength, Courage, Compassion, Respect, Nurturance, Play, Temperance, Risk-taking, Wisdom, Growth, Discovery, Celebration, Triumph, Amusement, Inspiration, Pleasure.

Happy New Year!

It's Christmas Time in the City!

Christmas weather is here, and we love it even when we fuss about being chilled in the night air. We have already had several dustings of snow, one which left a nice covering on the ground. I love having a white landscape but clear streets - a perfect combination! Today there were 2 snowfalls, but I missed them both because I was still dreaming in my bed. Hubby and I were up late into the night baking cookies for his staff. Later we filled Mason Jars with the Russian tea mix we had just made. Russian tea, a nice infusion of warmth on these wet, winter nights. We enjoyed our efforts and loved the fragrance permeating the house, but daylight came far too soon for his sleepy body to crawl into a morning of work. I simply turned over with my quilt!

Seattle's streets are busy during the Christmas season. It is one of the few larger American cities which has a very busy, active downtown shopping area, always filled with fast paced walkers and those who like to leisurely stroll as they browse the storefronts. It reminds me of a small Manhattan in that way. Carolers gather on street corners here and there during the season. Street musicians and street dancers entertain those passing by. The Christmas carousel turns in circles while lines gather for the next ride. We rode it in the early years before we married. Macy's star shines brightly in the skyline and guides the traffic to the heart of the shopping district. I like to roll the window down and listen to the voices as we drive past groups of people or someone singing to a crowd. Each street corner has a different kind of free entertainment. It is hard to decide where to go first. There is excitement and electricity in the air, a common joy about the season. Each time we visit the city at Christmas I remember the first Christmas we spent together in Seattle. How magical it all felt. I was surprised with new earrings before we climbed onto the carousel. Love was in the breezy air of Puget Sound that night. It still is.

We drive through the city and take in all the sites each Christmas season, drive through the University district and eat dinner on Lake Union. There are colorful trees in several of the waterside business areas where delicious seafood restaurants draw tired shoppers for rest and revitalization. We join them for alder-grilled salmon and veggies, a treat we never tire of giving ourselves. If we are lucky we will catch sight of ships and smaller boats decorated in colorful lights returning to Lake Union from their journey in the Parade of Christmas ships. These sail each night during December along Lake Washington to several eastside ports where people greet them at shoreline bonfires with free cups of Starbucks coffee. This year we are sailing in the parade; it is our first time. Choirs on the decks sing carols to those on the ships and to those who are there to greet the ships at port. We will have dinner on board during our 3.5 hour sail.

Before our Seattle night is done we will drive to Pike Place Market long closed but still glittering with colored lights above. The market rises on a hill ,
above Puget Sound and has become one of the most favored and celebrated landmarks in Seattle. I love to walk through the market and smell the breads and roasting nuts, see the beautiful colors of fruits and vegetables from all over the world, watch the vendors put on a show. There are the famous "fish men" who throw salmon and halibut like basketballs to each other before packaging them and giving them to their buyers. Such funny showmen they are!

When we return home, we sit a while by our tree, admiring its beauty. We remember aloud where many of the ornaments were purchased as we put them on the tree. A year's absence has us eager to see them again. We enjoy our quiet winter nights by these shimmering lights in the warmth of our home. With its ornaments from our travels and from other special moments, this tree tells a story of our life together. It is a good life, and we are grateful.

May love shine its soft light on us all and bring peace to this troubled world. I wish you all a happy holiday season.

What a Day for A Daydream...

We drove into the Cascades, traveling along a winding road beside the Skykomish River. Suddenly the yellows and pinks joined chartreuse and mixed with golds and reds. We sighed at the stunning sights before us. Nature is so generous in her gifts!

I have never seen such vivid shades of deep pink among autumn leaves. I love the contrast of the pinks and reds with the lighter greens in this small stand of shrubs and trees.

A mountain stream splashed across the rocks, but the foliage surrounding the creek bed caught our eyes and held them tightly.

Along the path we chose to walk we found more dazzling colors mixed among the evergreens. There has not been a more beautiful fall in the Pacific Northwest since we moved here.

I say that Autumn is my favorite season. But, I know my fickle self. As soon as spring arrives and shows me her colorful bounty, I will be seduced.
Then I will be singing her praises!

A Blade of Grass

Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, "You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams."

Said the leaf indignant, "Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell the sound of singing."

Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when spring came she waked again -- and she was a blade of grass.

And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered to herself, "O these autumn leaves! They make such a noise! They scatter all my winter dreams."

Kahil Gibran

Chapter 29, The Madman

All photography above is courtesy of our private collection and cannot be reproduced or used in any way without our explicit and written consent.

Hello Again!

The Sun Sets On The Sierra Nevada

I am heartbroken to see the news of the California fires, to know that people must leave their homes and sometimes even abandon their animals to flee to safety. Fleeing, a word charged with so much emotion. I can only imagine but never fully understand the dynamics of this. I am always attached to my home, not especially to the physical structure but to the feeling of safety I have when I am in it. I don't adjust well to moving; it always takes me several months to begin to feel rooted, even minimally, in a new place. I shudder at the horror these people face, the leaving, the loss of everything but perhaps a few items in a box and a few changes of clothing. I am impressed by those who put forth a positive attitude, by those who are just glad to be alive and do not worry about the rest. They see the devastation around them, have nowhere to go and no concrete plan for long-term resolution. They stand breathing in the smoky fumes which hover over much of the land and yet they say their thanks for being whole and remaining together as a family. Brave, strong, positive people. We want to help, but don't know where to even begin.

We have memories of time along the southern and central coasts of California, from San Simeon to Santa Monica, and points further south. I recall the open land a bit north of Malibu, hills high above the ocean with sprawling estates, and how I wondered what celebrity lived here or there. We saw magnificent sunsets along the Pacific as we drove along that area of the Pacific Coastal Highway, heading south to Santa Monica one week and north toward Carmel another. I think back on those trips and feel sick inside, knowing many of the places I found beautiful are now charred and left in ruins.

We returned last month from a long needed vacation along the California coast. Natural beauty thrilled us at every turn in the road. Kite-surfers just north of Santa Cruz filled the skies with bright colors and billowing sails which grabbed our attention as we drove along that fabulous Pacific Coast Highway toward Big Sur. We have driven it many times now. It never fails to amaze us in its extraordinary beauty with huge, rocky boulders and headlands jutting far into the surf. All make fine resting stops for hungry gulls and herons, for pelicans waiting for the perfect dinner meal. Through my binoculars I watched them fish while my husband took photographs of the seascapes coloring the canvas before us. Occasionally he stopped to gather stones rubbed smooth from years of rolling in the sandy ocean, stones we would take home as gifts to our garden, reminders of these lazy coastal days when joy surrounded us and thoughts of schedules slept soundly in Seattle.

We drove along the Bay searching out locations for photo ops, places where we could shoot pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge when the fog lifted. Fog. My husband is fascinated watching it roll into and out of the Bay. We were unable to get many sharp photos during a previous visit because the fog blanketed the Bay for a week. We hoped for better luck this visit. He ran along the edge of Golden Gate Park, later chasing the view along Lincoln Blvd where we were delighted to find a remarkable view that brought the Golden Gate Bridge up close and personal.

We drove to the Marina and found San Francisco Bay hidden under a layer of fog. We sat for a while on a bench watching sailboats move in and out of the low hanging clouds while we fed seagulls. Later we admired some of the boats moored nearby. We wanted to find "The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill" and drove toward Coit Tower, hoping a miracle would bring these brightly colored conures into sight. How exciting when we first found Judy Irving's film about Mark Bittner's life with these birds, a film we gave away as Christmas gifts last season. Judy is an award winning film-maker. Mark's story is arresting, especially for bird lovers like us. Judy and Mark will be in Seattle in November. We can hardly wait to meet them.

Those of you who know us or who have read this blog know how much we enjoy our time with the sea, that we sleep with our doors open to the sights and sounds of the surf, that we eat our breakfasts listening to the waves slap against the shore, see them break against the crags. We are calmed by the sounds and smells of the ocean and always find our nights and mornings in its company the most joyous parts of our trips. This one was especially peaceful to us. We slept with the sea for 2 weeks, awaking to seascapes like this one outside our door. Seabirds flocked to our balcony each morning ready for the toast or crackers we offered. Fog sometimes covers the headland and the sea in this place where we stay, but by late morning the fog burns away and blue skies are filled with seagulls and sunshine. When we arrive home we are lonely for the sea, seasick in fact, wanting our own retreat by the great Pacific. It is always hard to leave this place we find so comforting, where our sleep is so deeply restful.

During a visit to the Pt Reyes peninsula we saw Tule elk grazing on hills rising high above the Pacific near McClures Beach. Deer share meadows and pastures with cattle in nearby fields just beyond this lovely vista of Tomales Bay. We found rabbits scampering across the narrow, winding roads, and my husband saw his first owl sitting on a fencepost at sunset. Pt Reyes juts out into the Pacific Ocean 10 miles further than any other point on this coast. It is considered the windiest and foggiest area on the west coast. The San Andreas fault runs through this beautiful area bisecting it from the California mainland. There are multiple ecosystems with different plant and animal life residing within them across the peninsula's sandy coastline, estuaries, grassy hills, dry brushy cliffs, rocky seastacks, and tidepools. Discovery awaits us each time we visit, and we are always eager to return.

We left the Bay area and headed north along the coastline across Pt Reyes and beyond, heading to Mendocino, California. A mandatory stop was Glass Beach, a place which was once a dumping ground for the area. Now the glass returns to shore, tumbled smooth by years in the sea and dotting the shore in blue, green, brown, orange, and red. Buckets are the implements brought to this beach. Some even come with wagons. We carried a canvas bag and 2 plastic bags for liners. We brought home a full container of sand and glass which we were eager to separate. Greens and reds are my favorite pieces. Eventually we will display it in the garden or in the house.

In Mendocino we visited the Art Center where an old roommate was once a potter. I saw the wheels she used to throw her pieces, lingered there thinking how happy she was in this place. I saw the trail which leads to the ocean, a trail she walked every day no matter what the weather. We visited the gallery, saw beautiful art for sale, bought Chinese shard and sterling silver earrings for my sister, strolled through the gardens enjoying the fun garden art and benches made from rusty metals and wooden seats. We saw John Fisher, an artist who had just returned from Italy, carving a huge piece of stone he had named "The 3 Stages of Woman." I had never seen a piece of stone being carved, had never contemplated what the blank stone looked like before creation. Later I learned John had been in Mendocino when my friend was there some 20 years ago. We found a fabulous seafood restaurant on the Wharf in Ft. Bragg where I had my first sole paupiettes, thin pieces of sole wrapped around a crab mousse filling. There we met a woman whose husband is a abalone diver. It is against the law to sell abalone shells so she gave me 2 large ones as a gift. We were excited to add them to our box of California goodies from the trip.

We have missed our 2 week holiday when nothing mattered but our hearts' desires and clocks were unimportant. Appreciating nature was the business of the moment. A trip to Yosemite, watching the African penguins being fed at the aquarium, seeing hang-gliders sail over the Bay off the San Mateo Bridge, exploring Stanford University, and playing at UC Berkeley were all adventures we enjoyed. Descriptions of exotic food from all over the world filled the menus in many Bay area restuarants. Our favorite one was Tangerine in the Castro district. Delicious appetizers (especially the stuffed portabello mushrooms, spicy corn fritters, and yam cakes) accompanied exquisite entrees in Pacific Rim cuisine and left us groaning in hedonisitc pleasure which tickled our waiter. I did some Pacific NW PR and pleaded for consideration for a Tangerine in Seattle! Until then I will daydream.

All photography is courtesy of our private collection and cannot be used without our explicit and written permission.

Just So You Know...

Just a note to say I am very weary with the problems I continue to have with Blogger. These issues have been on-going for at least 3 months. I spend hours trying to get photos related to my posts to load into Blogger but have no luck whatsoever! I am inevitably left with a very sour taste and have little interest in blogging or in posting text without the accompanying photography. There have been beautiful flowers in the garden I could not share and wildlife strolling around our property. It took me weeks to get the Oregon post to load properly. I have no patience with these Blogger problems and have gotten no assistance from Blogger other than confirmation they are working on the issues. I may try to find a different host when I have more energy to direct there or close the blog entirely. The fun of posting has been lost in these efforts and frustration. :(

To Sleep With the Ocean

The central Oregon coast, north of Florence.
Photography made available from our private collection.
See reference note at the end of this post.

My husband and I usually celebrate July 4th with a road trip, not only because we enjoy the summer holiday free from his hectic job, but also because it is the anniversary of our engagement. I remember the July 4th when he kept waiting for the perfect moment to ask me to be his wife. We had a picnic beside the lake at a monastery outside Atlanta where Trappist Monks had built their home 40 years earlier.

Enjoying a peaceful holiday as we talked about the future we'd dreamed of sharing, we watched ducks drifting in the currents of the warm lake that summer afternoon. We played a board game similar to Trivial Pursuit while we ate fresh fruit and chicken wings. We were lazy in the summer heat.

Later we sat quietly together inside the Abbey gazing at the architecture and design, aware of the holiness of this place and moment. We walked the grounds near the store where the monks bake and sell their breads and nurture their beautiful bonsai garden. Though neither of us is traditionally religious, we enjoyed experiencing the contemplative atmosphere in which the monks live their lives and the serenity which bathed us in light and love.

In the evening we dined atop a luxury hotel, watching fireworks through the glass walls as the restaurant slowly revolved, giving us views of the city from every direction. Several firework displays around the city dazzled us that night, all seeming to celebrate our love and the future we had moved toward for two and a half years. I went to sleep happier than I had ever been, wrapped in love and promises of our future.

Since that July, our favorite way of celebrating this holiday is to retreat to the central Oregon coast and sleep with the ocean. We find a room which has a private balcony overhanging the sandy beach, a place where high tides lap the rocks and drizzle sand just below our room. We forget tsunami warnings when we climb into the sound of waves as they tumble to shore. We are hypnotized by the sound of the water, the smell of the ocean air, and the flight of the birds outside our room as morning wakes us.

The gulls visit us each day and eat from our hands. At sunset campfires dot the shore beneath our balcony, and we eagerly anticipate the beautiful light display which will soon shimmer in colorful reflection on the wet sand. Many beachcombers bring along their own personal stash of fireworks to the evening’s orchestra of light. They'll give us our own private show of color glittering the evening sky high above the surf.

We drive the coast during the days, exploring familiar areas again, taking in the seascapes with new eyes, always struck with wonder at the magical hand of nature in some detail we never noticed in the past.

We see old trees hanging above the ocean, wondering how many years they have lived on this earth. We notice the sea stacks of rocks and earth positioned far into the surf, open invitations to breakers which pound them with foaming, salty water.

We watch the sea lather the shore where someone wrote a name, see each letter erased bit by bit in rhythmic motion. Birds travel between shore and rocks, some roosting far out on craggy ledges which overhang the sea. We watch them through the binoculars. We study the tides to learn our best chance for uncovering hidden treasures. We won't disturb tidal pools, but we will take home agates and beautiful rocks left in the sand, some washed smoothe; all beautiful. But, mostly we’ll take home memories of days and nights seasoned with love and tranquility, steeped in the comfort of the constant sea. We are already counting the days until we will sleep once again with the ocean – next month we will head to the northern California coast.

One day we will own property on this coast, a place to retreat each season. In spring, summer and fall we will sleep with the door open to the air, to the smells and sounds of the surging water. We'll watch the winter storms and migrating whales in colder months. It will be ours, the place where we can sleep together with the sea.



All photography from the Oregon coast is from our private collection. Photography from our private collection is protected by copyright and cannot be reproduced, published, or used in any manner without our written permission.
Enlarge each photograph by clicking on the image.

The photograph inside the Abbey, the Monastery of the Holy Spirit, is published
with the kind permission of James Behrens, photographer.
It demonstrates the soft light in the aisle which filters
through the stained glass windows.

My Life: A to Z Meme

Grape Vines, Napa Valley, California
Photography from our private collection.

I was tagged by rdl to do the A-Z meme, so here are a few random facts about me and my life.

A - accent: Awwww…bless your heart, honey. Let’s see – as I sit on the veranda drinking my lemonade, I guess I can admit to a bit of a southern drawl.

B - booze: white zinfandel; sparkling white wines; Margarita: on the rocks with salted rim, and frozen with strawberries and sugared rim

C - chore I hate: I don’t like chores, so I don’t do them! ;)

D - dogs/cats: none at the moment – Sheltie and Terrier went to "pupppy heaven" at ages 18 and 15, respectively. :( Miss them very much and will be puppy parents again one day.

E - essential electronics: computer, cell phone and charger

F - favorite perfume/cologne: Carolina Herrera 212

G - gold/silver: gold most often, but occasionally silver

H - hometown: Atlanta, GA

I - insomnia: yes

J - job title: “the happy gardener” but once a social worker and even earlier an English teacher

K - kids: none

L - living arrangements: in a house with my man, surrounded by lush gardens, birds, squirrels, deer, and raccoons - with an occasional nearby bear sighting in spring.

M - most admired trait: sensitivity

N - number of sexual partners: married

O - overnight hospital stays: one at age 3

P - phobia: snakes, shots, germs – anti-bacterial wipes after shopping carts!

Q - quote: Be the change you want to see in the world ~ Mahatma Gandhi

R - religion: none – eastern philosophy

S - siblings: one sister

T - time I usually wake up: depends on what time I go to bed – I usually sleep in 4 hour intervals.

U - unusual talent: beautiful gift wrapping

V - vegetable I refuse to eat: none – I even like rutabagas now!

W - worst habit: interrupting people!

X - x-rays: lumbar, left hip, left leg

Y - yummy foods I make: rum cake, home-made veggie soup, spoon cornbread, curried chicken salad

Z - zodiac sign: Virgo

Just Outside Our Door

All photography courtesy of our private collection.
As I witness nature opening her magical doors of color, shape, fragrance, and form I am filled with wonder. No matter how many years I have lived on this earth, it is always the same each spring. I am stunned at the intensity of beauty before me, awed by the design and the mystery of perfect creation. One window closes and another opens. The show is always choreographed in perfect harmony in this splendid season of spring.

This morning I heard the drilling before my eyes could locate him. There he was, red hat sitting high on his head met by the full red scarf draped around his neck, drilling for sap and the insects drawn to it. The red-breasted sap sucker was back in the same tree he sat in on Saturday when my husband went flying out in the chilly rain to get a better view and to try to photograph him. Today I got one shot, not close enough. We need a better lens for zooming. It is thrilling to see this bird's red head contrasting the green leaves, and I am happily content to observe him hard at work.

Yesterday I sat outside as night approached, watching my husband loading his wheelbarrow with his gardening tools, my eye searching for the bird who was singing loudly. Finally I found him on the top limb of our highest evergreen. He was too far away for me to even guess what kind of bird he was. I could only determine his approximate size. I listened carefully. He sang his song, repeating the notes in a rhythmic series. Silence....then he began again. In the distance another voice joined the concert with almost the exact order of notes in similar pitch. The repetition was so pronounced I thought at first an echo was resounding across the elevation. Suddenly wings met air, and I was left alone contemplating this extraordinary language which brings pleasure to my life as each morning unfolds and each evening closes my day. I instinctively move to the courtyard to sit and listen, to observe and take in these wonders which live just outside our door.

Each tulip, sunlit and glowing, takes me fully outside myself as I examine the way the light falls. The sunlight illuminates the petals from the inside out, making them seem almost transparent. The blue irises are blooming now amidst the carpet of candytuft which sprinkles the bank in white trails of flowers. My eyes move toward the ground through the tiny blue lithodora blooms, and I watch an earthworm working the soil, not yet mulched. I am glad for the turning and aeration of the earth that holds our plants and trees. I wonder if the robin will see the worm before he is once again hidden deep within the rich, blackness. I see the butterfly move among the tulip blooms under the weeping cherry and marvel at its beginning. I feel so acutely aware of every nuance of nature as I watch him flicker in the mauve and purple Angeliques. My mind wanders to Shardad Rohani's "Connie's Butterfly" in which the piano truly paints the butterfly's flight. I remember the first time I heard this music and how my body responded.

When I use the sprinkler nozzle to water the hanging basket near the large bird feeder I feel myself excited with anticipation. I know the chickadees will soon hear the water and come rushing to me. They fly directly toward the water and play in the mist, dodging the heavier spray but always getting their feathers wet. It is a game we play on warm days. We have 5 birdbaths on this property, yet the sound of the running water is the real lure for these playful birds. Sometimes as many as 40 chickadees dot the evergreen. Like tiny Christmas ornaments they sit above the feeder. They appear so suddenly I wonder where they were before the sound of the water caught their attention.

Above the magenta lilac bloom a bright periwinkle sky reminds me of other summer days when as a young girl I lay on my back looking up through the treetops. I was mesmerized then, making images of white clouds, watching my art change with the wind. It all felt surreal - my altered state of consciousness, though I didn't know the term as a child. So many "faces" looked down upon me as I gazed reverently above, always intrigued with shapes and movement. I've created a thousand pieces of sky art, each one different, uniquely mine.

Friday we saw our first hummingbirds of the season...3 at once playing in the top of a large cedar, whizzing and darting above the tallest branch, then lower and back up again. My husband was thrilled. He is always wistful to hear about my daily encounters with the tiny natural treasures, encounters which he misses as he busies himself inside an office far from nature's bounty. I see the hummers refuel their small tanks with sugar water in the mornings as I stand at the kitchen sink. Later in the afternoon they will fly in and out of the front rock garden enjoying the perennials we planted. It is a joy I never take for granted. Each sighting is as delightful as the first.

Wisteria hangs now on the arbor in clustered clumps of pale purple which fall in abandon over the trellis. The air is scented as I approach, and I react to the sweet fragrance by moving closer. Sometimes the sheer beauty of this garden overwhelms me. My eye catches the chartreuse blooms of the euphorbia behind the lavender laden arbor, the contrast making each more glorious. We will bring out the glass hummingbird feeders and hang them back in the rock garden since the perennials are not yet ready to nurture our tiny friends. We are happy the wisteria will serve as a temporary paradise during the coming days.

I love the way the oxalis is peeping out of an old tree stump. This clover-looking plant was a St. Patrick' Day gift I bought my husband a few years ago and is now living happily in the stump, rich with nutrients. It has never been more full or beautiful. The clematis at the edge of this bed is filled with blooms now as it winds its way up another arbor. Soon the vine will wrap the legs of the wooden arbor and by summer's end will hang overhead. We will nail a round wooden top to a very low, small tree stump here near the arbor. The stump is still strong and will serve as a base to the squirrel feeder we will mount. This will be a feasting table where corn and nuts are the breakfast buffet we give our precious squirrels. If we get too late a start on the day they place their orders by knocking on the door! Some were born here, none venture very far away, and one, a permanent grazer until dark, never leaves the bottom of the largest birdfeeder. He talks about the early bird getting the worm and laughs all day as he snacks heartily!

If I ever forget for a second the extraordinary beauty of this earth, one step outside our door reminds me that it is always near me, vast and omnipresent. Nature, the greatest artist of all, has painted this place where we live in every color on her palette. My heart sings.