I take less photos nowadays. Is it that there's less time to stop and frame, or that my hands are too soiled with earth and messes to point and shoot? I yearn for moments to pause and remember, relay events, pen to blank pages. I know it's okay not to... I often feel a loss of words, or when I find them I am quickly caught up with another thought or plan or to-do...
At the beginning of the year I resolved to embrace a year of seasoning - of letting the rhythms, opportunities and limitations of the season pattern me. We need to change pace, but often we can't accept it. And so here I am in late Spring, flat-out, busied, and thankful for so many things...
for summer plans
for wood to make vegetable beds
for possibilities of our next housing
for fields days and local apiary club meetings
for raw milk collection at a nearby farm gate
(and for all the creamy cups of tea and ricotta that follow)
for paperwork to become a vendor at the farmer's markets...
for two natural bee hives, milled from local cypress, cut and assembled by my lover
for homegrown greens, and all the local produce that blesses our dinner plates
for my two-year-old's knack at chasing, catching and clutching hens
for buckwheat and sesame seed lavosh ready for the oven
for a visit to a favourite garden for seeds and orchard inspiration
for a spying the delicate wisps of flowers in the bush
for the symphony of wavering grasses on the land
for forget-me-nots tiny as finger tips
for gentle flutterings of growing babe
for all Spring brings...