Tag Archives: dogs

life, nature, photography

It’s not really what this blog is about

57 Comments
photo by Sylvia

I want to write about the state of our political world, the injustice, the oversight, the ignorance—but that’s not what my blog is about, I don’t talk about politics

I want to write about the state of our collective consciousness, the pros and cons of a hive-mentality, the necessity of it for survival as well as its potential to negatively influence culture—but that’s not what my blog is about, I don’t talk about morals

I want to write about being a citizen of the world, how average people don’t immigrate for fun—folks leave their country, their language, their food, their families, their jobs, their homes in order to improve their lives and the lives of their children by prospering in a safe environment. There is a protocol for immigration, that is understood. There are laws to be observed in order for a society to function, all very true. But desperate people do desperate things. And if you’ve never been desperate in this life, count yourself lucky—but that’s not what my blog is about, I don’t talk about empathy

I want to write about misogyny—the idea that in the year 2025 we still shame victims of abuse, we still use laws to control women’s bodies, we still base medical testing on males only, we are willing to vote for a convicted criminal rather than a black woman—but that’s not what my blog is about, I don’t talk about racial and gender equality

It might be time to bring this little blog that is 11 years old to a close for now. I’m not sure, I’ll have to think a bit more upon it. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for making my writing public on this forum. I’ve always thought of the writing here as a bit of a respite from reality. But, I don’t know, I can’t quite work out if it’s shallow in the face of so much that is wrong in our lives or a testament to all that is right in my own (privileged) life, most likely a little of both.

I’ll leave you for now, with some images that I do blog about: a robin’s egg found in a potted fern, irises and my little sweet girl, Juliet. Be well readers, walk the world with as much inner peace as you can possibly acquire.

photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia

life, nature, photography

Driving and Arriving

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photo by Sylvia

Driving down the road in the fog, early in the morning; the trees look like people waving gallantly as I pass.

Radiohead plays softly in the background—

“I don’t care if it hurts I want to have control
I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice when I’m not around”

The deer lift their heads and their tails, watch my progress silently. The air feels thick and heavy—

“Whatever makes you happy, whatever you want”

Windows down, the coldness seeps into the car on the edges of the whipping wind. I look across the water, bridge after bridge after bridge after tunnel after overpass after bridge. All these links getting us where we think we want to be. 

“What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here
I don’t belong here”

The song ends and I turn off the music. Taking a deep breath, I roll up the windows and turn on the heat. The quiet feels soothing, the fog starts to lift. 

I see my dog in the window and open the door to the smell of brewing coffee—a welcoming smell and a welcoming bark.

Lyrics from the song, Creep by Radiohead from the album Pablo Honey written by Thom Yorke 

photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
animals, dogs, happiness, life, nature, photography

The Feeling of Spring

20 Comments
photo by Sylvia (some daffodils were harmed in the taking of this photo, but no dogs were harmed as the potentially poisonous daffodils were not ingested)

Spring arrives and the woods are damp, rich, earthy. You can smell it and almost taste it and certainly feel it—hopefulness.

photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
animals, Books, happiness, life, photography

Winter Ingredients for a Contented Life

30 Comments
photo by Sylvia (Percy, my daughter’s dog at 2 months)

good health—the positive management of your health

enough food—bowls of berries and platters of cheese, black beans, red tomatoes and good chocolate 

the love of another person, or of an animal

safety—a warm home without fear

steaming cups of coffee and strong, black tea

good books on frigid mornings

candles that smell like balsam, like cherry pipe tobacco, like spicy cinnamon

old photos 

tattered quilts

pine cones and dried flowers in vases

love letters tucked away with ribbons

crunchy walks in the snow

a good type of tired—from puttering in the house, from doing good for others, from shoveling someone’s walkway, from reading an entire book of poems in one night

freedom to get things wrong and freedom to get things right every once in a while

photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia (a winter sunset to the right of my back yard with deer)
photo by Sylvia (Percy, my daughter’s dog today at 4 months)
life, nature, photography

Summer Days

24 Comments
photo by Sylvia

hot summer days with the early morning sun shining through leaves and petals — making shadows on the walls like paintings on canvas, like unconscious meditations 

the hazy noon lull creeps upon us — a listless veil of drowsy breezes caresses our afternoon nap-time dreams 

the evening closes late, a holiday dive-bar atmosphere of abandon­ — another summer day locked up tight, slips softly from the present, right into the past

photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
photo by Sylvia
life, nature, photography

In the Car: The Short Version and The Long Version

20 Comments
photo by Sylvia

The Short Version:
It is a marvel, how many people we are in one single life

The Long Version:
Riders on the storm, Into this house we’re born, Into this world we’re thrown

I’m riding down the highway at 65 miles per hour in a car that’s 25 years old with miles stacked behind it like birds on a telephone wire. Windows down, the spring air fills the car with a headiness, a feeling of freedom I know to be fleeting. I take a breath and turn the radio up, the song changes.

Someone told me there’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair

Remember the times I had love in my eyes and flowers in my hair? The years have sped along, ticking by, mile markers in the rear view mirror. I dodge a dead deer in the right lane, pull over into the passing lane. I’ve got the car up to 70 but I know it can’t maintain this speed, so I quickly get back into the slower groove.  

I’m your dream, make you real, I’m your eyes when you must steal, I’m your pain when you can’t feel

No, I can’t listen to this song, it’s too dark for me right now. I shut the radio down and turn to my music downloaded on my phone. Damn it! I just passed my exit. I drive on to the next one. 

The trees are almost able to be called lush now, everything alive and thrumming. I’m passed by a band of motorcycles and I envy their rides. Years ago, I rode with friends when I was young and new and thin and beautiful and also, self-absorbed and insensitive; my youth raking everything in its wake. I marvel at how many people we are in one single life. How many roads taken, abandoned, lost and found.

Smiling at strangers reminds me of my dog (Better let them know you’re friendly), The way people dress reminds me too, Pissing on their favorite tree, Sad things remind me of my dog

I look behind me at my dog in her bed. She looks at me with total trust. I have love in my eyes and I laugh at myself and my thoughts as I drive a good 5 miles out of my way because of my perpetual distraction. I remember teaching my kids to be aware of other drivers on the road. “So few people are aware of their surroundings”, I had counseled them. Here, my exit. Someone pulls out in front of me in order to make the next right at the light after the off-ramp. I slow down, let it happen without incident. Today, is a good day to stay alive. 

Riders on the Storm, written by Jim Morrison, performed and released by The Doors, 1971 

Going to California, written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, performed and released by Led Zeppelin, 1971

Sad but True, written by James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich, performed and released (in album) by Metallica, 1991

Everything Reminds Me Of My Dog by Jane Siberry, written, performed and released, 1989

photo by Sylvia

life, nature, photography

Hours of the Night as Book Chapters

29 Comments
photo by Sylvia

Chapter 1:00— A Velvet Night Seeps Through the Cracked Window

Chapter 2:00— The Dog Dreams of Chasing Rabbits 

Chapter 3:00— Awakening— Is it Morning?
(alternate title: Please, Let it Be Morning)

Chapter 4:00— Is the Appointment Today or Next Monday?
(alternate title: A Shopping List)
(alternate title: Scheduling a Car Inspection)
(alternate title: Childhood)
(alternate title: Why Would She Say That?)
(alternate title: Where Did I Put That Gift Card?)

Chapter 4:30— The Dog Goes Outside—
The Deer are Surprised, Quietly Resentful, Finally Resigned

Chapter 5:00— Hot Tea, Honey a Blanket and a Book

Chapter 6:00— Morning Coffee and Toast

Chapter 7:00— The Blue Light of Daybreak, Finally
(alternate title: Where is my Camera?)
(alternate title: The Deer are Outraged Again)

photo by Sylvia