I have to be in the right mood to find "Walden" and "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" good reads. I sometimes, as I read them, wonder how much can one person really feel and observe and absorb of the very small and immediate nature they are surrounded by, without traveling as long as past their front door, to really make a book out of it.
But some weekends, or sick days, or just times when I am trapped in the house for no reason at all, it comes to me! There is a whole world out there - so real, so busy, so full, pulsating with life, and beauty that the spring should never run dry with inspiration.
Every bird has a story to tell, a different thought in the fearful glance; every dying rose or leaf, a shrinking memory to display, telling of the beauty past; every cloud has just a place in the immensity of the sky, every mountain a stream of melting snow to nurture.
These are just glimpses of what my camera peeked at this weekend through my kitchen window. You can hear and smell and touch the softness of feathers, the crisp of the drying leaves, the cold of the snow ... For a moment you can quiet down your breath, your thoughts, even the persistent noise of traffic and enjoy the symphony of nature ...
The mountain just looked glorious this week!
To my husband, these are "just sparrows". I still think they are precious in their own, sparrow-y way!
This guy looked like he ruled the roost in my cedar tree ...
Autumn roses ...
Through the blinds: When the feeders were flooded with hungry eaters ...
And a purple finch, to make Aa. happy!
Now, if this were a painting ...
Utah lake, and the "lighthouse" looking tower, along with the filthy air hovering over the valley this evening ...
