journeys of a restless mind

moss on a log

children running through

In case you were wondering whether or not you should buy the new Patty Griffin CD, yes, yes you should.  Her voice reminds me of Bonnie Raitt's sometimes and of Dolly Parton's at others, but her songs are all hers.  There's some powerful stuff here.  I've only listened to it a couple of times now, but then I've only had it in my possession since noon.  I bought it on the strength of the single "Heavenly Days" that they've been playing on The Mountain for awhile, and I'm not one bit sorry.  (Plus it makes me happy to support the fine folks at Quimper Sound who keep me in coffee and wifi whenever I need it.)

joy

In an attempt to show that I am not always sad, I would like to write about some joyful moments that I had just this very morning.  The thing is, I have the same reaction to those moments as I do to my sadness--I cry.  I was on the beach near Hudson Point,  at the rockiest pointiest part of that beach and everything was just so spectacularly beautiful in a quiet, still, silvery way, and I felt so very fortunate for being here.  So I cried.  Each and every stone on the beach seemed distinct and interesting and colorful and the water seemed viscous like mercury, but not so shiny, and the mountains were there on the horizon very faintly, even Mt. Rainier, and the sky was pinkish behind it, and all the little sea birds, those black and white ones that swim, were just floating there on the substantial water, and then the buoy's bell started clanging out bong bong bong like it was Sunday morning and time for church. 

I started to feel like I belong here.  I have often thought that I chose well, that this was a good place, but there on the luminous beach this morning was the first time I really felt like I belong here.  So I cried.  And then I kept walking.

today I saw feathers

Updated to add:

After I posted this I looked outside, and guess what landed in my yard:

My demons have been out in full force.  Those bastards never give up.   The only way I know how to battle them is to walk, so I took a long one out to the fort today.  It was misty and still.  Few things calm me like looking out over the gray water when the islands are hidden by the fog.  Little black and white birds dive under the surface and pop up again far from where they started.  I hear a motor, then make out a small white boat at the edge of my vision.  The ferry goes back and forth; it is built like a crab.  I walk past the lighthouse and loop around on the trail.  The strait seems like open sea, you cannot see the land that you know is on the other side--just the line of the horizon: light gray on dark gray.  The trees on the bluff look smudged in the mist.  I always dread the walk back.  By the time I get home my knees are stiff and there is a clatter of crows on my front yard fighting over something good to eat.

when bambi attacks

Oh sure, they look cute, but when they start surrounding your house and viciously pulling up grass and weeds, chomping away on them with those big grinding teeth and leaving large cloven hoof prints in your garden they aren't quite so adorable anymore, are they?  Their true voracious nature comes out!  When they lift their heads and look right at you with their large brown eyes and they twitch their tails, you know they're thinking that you look like a tender green sprout of some sort, and they're coming right for you.  Lock your doors, my friends, lock them tight!  Bambi is on the prowl.

tejanas raise hell

Kimberly has a lovely tribute to Molly Ivins up.  So does Cowtown Pattie.  Twisty pauses for a moment of silence.  I love me some Texan blogging women, yes I do.

I want one

My neighbors have one of these and it is about the coolest thing ever.  Being in such close proximity to gorgeous campsites is having an effect on me.

stating the obvious