Archives for posts with tag: nature

With hot chocolate in hand, I start the engine, gaze at the thick fog before me. Audio book streams in the background as my attention follows a group of seagulls circling above. At that moment, I’m taken to the ocean. One seagull continues to circle and I can see the grace and strength of his wings as the audio book becomes mere sound, my attention elsewhere, following the joy of the seagull in flight. I reach for my phone; the seagull makes one last pass, then departs, leaving me with a feeling of fullness and appreciation for the moment.

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Lone crow
sitting high atop the lamp post—
peers out, into the fog

As I walk quickly, the leaves go by so fast—

They become a pile of golden stars, and the others form a path, leading the way to something—

warmth with the golden glow as it bounces from the sun’s rays.

Pink petals

Strewn like Spring—

On this brisk winter day,

Azaleas tease for warmer days to come.

This morning I saw a woman kneeling down with her phone camera in hand, honing in on something in the crevices of one of those large metal grates that you often run into on the sidewalks. I tried to sneak a glance as I walked by. I think she was capturing some sort of greenery that was growing, unnoticed. 

It was nice seeing someone doing that. I know there are many others out there capturing these small moments, things that are hidden from us until we stop to look. I know I’m not the only one; and that’s why it’s nice to see someone else in action, as I might be on a day I’m leaning over some small beauty that’s growing through the cracks of the world. 

An autumn day gives way to the feeling of winter. In the air the scent of someone cozy next to a warm fire. 

I look out the window waiting for my lunch, taking in the orange and yellow leaves against a perfectly grey sky. 

Rain shall come soon to wash away the impurities, wipe the slate clean to begin anew. 


Sitting amongst the birch trees,
I listen to the day fade in and out, as I put markings down on the page, coax an image that is enough for me to recognize this moment, eager to continue marking the days–marking the pages with, not only words, but real images. 

As I exit the library doors, outside
the majestic pines and quietness of the street wrap around me like a
warm embrace.

When I first learned of this book a few years ago, I never would have expected what I found within its pages. I appreciate snails, but I never imagined that I would want to keep reading of the companionship that one humble snail would offer to its newfound keeper and continue learning more. The writing is beautiful in an understated way. The descriptions of the author’s country home and nature transport, and the details allow the reader into this intimate space.

I never feel Elisabeth Tova Bailey feels sorry for herself in a way that takes away from her story or journey. I feel a kinship with her and her snail who becomes the shining star in this memoir because of her strange, debilitating illness, that comes upon her suddenly when she’s on her way from her travels to home.

I love that each chapter is headed by a haiku or quote that ties in nicely to each chapter. It’s true, this small book does indeed feel like a “delicate meditation on the meaning of life.”

A gentle and beautiful read that I’m happy to have stumbled upon.

I sit here this morning against a backdrop of beautiful hills and a multitude of trees on the library grounds. Large art works, some familiar, having been here many years–permanent installations, others new to me.

The squeaking wheels of the mechanical pea cock titled the “Wheely, Whirly Peacock”, a crow clucks, small birds tweet in the distance. I sit here on the bench that faces the peacock, beauty all around, both natural and made by human hands.

As the sun warms my body, the breeze cools it down; lavender blossoms fill the air with their scent, carry in the wind and fill me with a sense of calm and of summertime.