the kids are here
from far flung places
Wisconsin, California…
once a year
we see them…
So we are here
in the crowded cottage
Eating sleeping laughing talking cooking playing
and being thankful to be together.
iPhoneography
Landscape
Thomas Wolfe wrote You Can’t Go Home Again, and the title has become an often-quoted phrase about change and memory.
sheep farm on Ruff Creek Hill
Yet here I am. Back home in These High Green Hills. Living within two miles of my childhood home. Living on what used to be my grandfather’s orchard.
sunrise from my bedroom
Sometimes a bit like being A Stranger in a Strange Land, but more often it is like being a stranger in a familiar land. Older and wiser, I see the familiar with new eyes — The Return of the Native…
journey home…
New eyes that appreciate the beauty of the hills, streams, and roads of rural Appalachia.
these high greene hills
New eyes that appreciate the need for economic development, but worry that it will spoil the ecosystems, the water, the landscape.
the cows’ field, disturbed
New eyes that see God’s mercy on my life and the blessings of coming home again.
Landscapes? Yep, I got ’em! About 500 on my phone alone! The top three were taken today; the others are from a greener season …
Swarm
swarm in november?
the birds flew a week ago
before the record cold.
the ladybugs have disappeared
(except for the few who are still hanging around on my kitchen ceiling…)
the bees are safe
making honey in their hives,
even the stinkbugs have gone into hiding.
here at the cottage
there are no swarms of bicycles, umbrellas, cars, or children.
there are swarms of leaves,
but I took that photo last week…
there’s a swarm of paint cans in the basement
(but that does not inspire.)
i was just about to pass on this challenge.
after all, i’m plenty busy cooking and cleaning
this week before thanksgiving.
and then, standing by the kitchen sink,
i look out the window.
this is my view all winter long.
i’ve taken pictures of it before.
it’s spare;
it’s subtle;
a swarm of sycamore achenes
hanging in the november sky.
and i’m grateful for the sameness of the seasons — the cycles of nature that come round each year.
the circle of life 