the stillness of a perched crow—
perhaps it contemplates a distant destination,
the whisper of flapping wings,
the camaraderie of a journey at dawn across January skies,
or the solitary moment on the margin between flight and rest
who she is now, is not who she was then — and that is as it should be
Who could fail to embrace a season so beautiful and so fragile?
Excerpt from The Comfort of Crows A Backyard Year by Margaret Renkle and illustrated by Billy Renkle, 2023
The world outside has turned monochromatic, all shades of grey.
Juliet explores in the snow.
Inside, stacks of books are piled here and there. Dried flowers, pine cones and leftover slices of Christmas oranges are tucked into bowls. The tea brews. The afternoon edges closer to evening just as it starts to snow softly once again.
I am wrapped into an old quilt watching a squirrel leap from branch to branch. The crows fly against the grey December sky by the dozens, stretching for miles, black waves echoing in the distance. Closing my eyes, the outlines of the dried oak leaves melt into my mind and right into my soul.
I had an overwhelming desire to fold his shadow into my pocket and take it home
This list inspired by the lovely Pip Lincoln from meetmeatmikes.com
Getting: a holiday list underway
Cooking: mashed potatoes and cornbread and sautéed cauliflower
Sipping: Christmas Tea from The Secret Garden
Reading: All Adults Here by Emma Straub
Thinking: family time is such a wonderful thing
Remembering: my extended family in Ohio that I miss and those that have passed on, remembering them with great love
Looking: at the leaves, always and still
Listening: Elton, Johnny Cash, Jerry Rafferty
Wishing: for peace and safety
Enjoying: British shows on BritBox
Appreciating: how we change as life goes on
Wanting: patience
Eating: pumpkin things
Finishing: the last box of Raspberry Coffee
Liking: rainy, grey days
Loving: sunny, bright autumn mornings
Buying: Christmas trinkets
Watching: the crows in the afternoon
Hoping: the world can find a place of peace
Wearing: green amber earrings from Italy
Walking: every day is always the goal
Following: the local parks and conservatories and museums on instagram
Noticing: a kindness here and a kindness there
Saving: screen shots of beautiful images from instagram for inspiration
Bookmarking: clever interviews with authors I like
Feeling: grateful
Hearing: so many voices of pain and sorrow, knowing we are all one, wishing we were all one
While on a walk with Juliet, I saw a stack of books through a window. A stack of books lined up, just so and a lamp with an orange glass shade. And I wondered what the books were and why these books were stacked in this way. I wondered if this was a bedroom, or a library room, or an office. Or maybe, these books belong to a student—a young student with a lifetime of dreams before them, with a lifetime of books before them, with a lifetime before them.
we pulled the leaves from the dill plants and the night fell with its fragrance
with their humble happiness, the pumpkins beckoned
there was a bit of melancholy about the place; the distressed beauty of willful neglect but also a prescience in the way the sun fell in random slices through the thick afternoon clouds
she laughed when I ran outside to shoot the morning frost on the leaves and so I scampered, crunching the grass, taking the shots quickly, leaving an exhaled breath behind me
feel the thin space between the living and the departed today—
listen for their names on the wings of the changing winds
spanishwoods 