After the four hour drive, up Weaver Hollow Road, then a steep plunge down to our house.
|frog pond at dusk|
I walk the property, making sure all is well.
|buttercups, rocks, lichen and brook|
|the blue hills of the western Catskills|
Water and wildflowers, wildflowers and water.
Wandering, gazing, pondering.
|frog pond by day|
|orange hawkweed a/k/a devil's paintbrush|
Ferns, lichen, moss. Stones, bluets, blackberries. Every day in the same places I would seen new things, things anew. There were friends and family, lovingly prepared meals, country roads, farmers markets, my favorite used books store, a gallery opening for a dear friend. I exhale, take a deep breath, breathe.