Your lovely summer snowflakes beckon as the sun warms your smooth stalks, enticing me to pick you and bring you home.
I admire your poisonous beauty from afar, never touching the tiny, treacherous flowers and ferny leaves that would take my breath away forever.
prints of antique fabric
reading on the balcony
summer storms
strawberries and tiny shortcakes
long walks with the pup
lemonade
shades of pink
lunch with my mother
the neighboring garden
handpainted glass
Vessels that carry cargo, staying afloat despite their rust and advancing age. Bobbing and rolling in the soft waves, pulsing to an intrinsic rhythm. Sometimes stilled, at the edge of deep waters.
The bees move about the flowers and into a nearby hive.
I watch them and I imagine them watching me.
Bee Conversation:
“Is she still sitting there?”
“Yea, she hasn’t moved.”
“Just ignore her and she’ll go away.”
a speckled fawn
a trumpet swan
the golden sap on emerald pines
a black bear
a young mare
the ripe berries on tender vines
a dust mote
a sailboat
an antique, treasured valentine
I try to imagine what this lake looks like in the winter. The stillness and depth of Canadian snows, the bitter wind blowing across the frozen water, all just a distantly whispered memory on this blushing evening in July.
The dog growls, seemingly at nothing. But my senses become alert. There is no one here, nothing to fear, and yet a primitive chill runs up my spine. I decide to leave our quiet writing spot and head back to the cabin.
Diamonds on the water,
water in my eyes–
eyes of violet blue jays,
jays in morning skies.
Moments rest upon the backs of dragonflies
stepping gingerly on wet weeds–
waiting for insects, a soft breeze or spontaneous inspiration.
Sitting by the lake and talking with some friends last week, the subject of facebook and instagram came up. Heated comments were made about the unrealistic bar of happiness that some choose to portray on social media sites. I’ve read the same comments around the blog world regarding blogs. The story in particular that got me thinking was of a woman who consistently posts photos of her family with all sorts of declarations of blissful, marital love and in reality is in the process of living through a contentious and nasty divorce. This was seen as being disingenuous from my friends in our conversation.
Obviously then, this woman’s reality is not content. I have no idea who this person is or why she posts whatever she’s posting, but in general, it got me thinking of the tone of my own blog.
I’ve come to realize, as I’ve gotten older, that the idea of a perfect marriage, or a perfect family, a perfect life, a perfect job simply doesn’t exist. People are flawed and as such the notion of “perfection” is impossible. In relation to any social media, it comes back to the original purpose of posting things for the world to witness. In my case, I started this blog in order to write every day. The goal for me, is to make a commitment, follow through, improve, learn, produce and as a by-product of that, to be more present in my life. As I suffer from depression, my few words could very easily turn dark and foreboding. There are times that I allow a mellow version of meloncholy to visit spanishwoods, but for the most part, I keep it positive. I have every reason in the world to be positive, to be thankful, to be fully present in my life and writing keeps me mindful of that every day.
I don’t know why people portray “perfect” lives on social media, but I honestly don’t care. The bottom line is, we’re all seeking happiness and comfort and a place of peace, however that may be obtained.
I have a wonderful, flawed, perfectly imperfect, happy and bittersweet life, as many do. So for now, I’m going to stick to small snippets of words and images to remind myself (and anyone else out there that wants to come along for the ride) of the beauty that lays around us and deeply within us all.
spanishwoods 