abundance.

so much has transformed
since our first humble harvest
broccoli's constant growth

rainbows of colour

sunflowers and nasturtiums

columbines, borage

purple cabbages

growing in long days of sun

blooming like flowers

zucchinis hiding

surprising us everyday

with delicious fruit

a vegetable quilt

sustaining community

connecting our souls

first harvest.

first harvest of the season. a humble beginning. with unexpected abundance. bunching onions. chives. salad greens. lettuce. tat soi. radishes. rhubarb.

we harvest with reflection. on the labor so invested in these vegetables. clearing and broadforking and composting and amending and raking and planting and watering and nurturing...

we harvest with joy at the amazing goodness before us. transformed from simple seeds to delicious food. through sun and earth. water and care. time and patience... food to share. food to enjoy. in the present moment.

we harvest with anticipation. of the vegetables that will grow more and more plentiful as the season evolves. with dreams of squash and cucumbers. broccoli and kale. carrots and kohlrabi.

we harvest with humility. of the unfathomable process we are a part of. as we participate in something much bigger and smaller than ourselves.

beyond the tangible, we harvest much more than vegetables. we glean understanding and knowledge. friendship and laughter. mindfulness and hope.

so with thankfulness we continue. to plant. to water. to wait. to watch. to listen. for there is much more to harvest. much more to learn.

amidst the birch trees.

there's an open space amidst the birch trees. nestled on a hill top. overlooking a diversity of mountains. near and far.

and on this hillside. rows of soil shed the remants of winter. as the extended days of spring joyfully arrive.

and within this soil, seeds will be planted. and nourished. and cared for. until they are ready for harvest. to pass on the nourishment they have received.

and in these fields. a community of folks gather. from places near and far. to be a part of this cyclical world. of birth. and growth. and death. and rebirth.

it is an honour to be present on this hillside. to learn. to grow. to give. to recieve. to coevolve with the seasons. the plants. the people. in these moments amidst the birch trees.

somewhere in between

somewhere in between. i stood in awe of unfamiliar mountains. amidst transient strangers. and fellow sojourners. as we floated on narrow waters. identifying with driftwood. sharing stories. and laughter. and music. paths merging for a moment.

somewhere in between. i sat at a bus stop. sipping tea with a kindred spirit. who hugged me and wished me well as our journeys parted ways.

somewhere in between. i watched cherry blossoms bloom. under surprising blue skies. in fluid city streets. accompanied by dear friends. old and new.

somewhere in between. i floated over land. on mundane plane rides. arriving at the place i can always return to. to know i am loved. welcomed by the vivid colours of carolina springtime.

and in this place. we shared meals around familiar kitchen tables and breezy porches. we strolled through the forests that beckoned our spirits. we tapped our feet to the music so deeply rooted. in this very place.

and in this place. we watched as worlds combined. as friends gathered from different moments in our lives. to listen. to dance. to play. in the perfect festival sunshine. and we celebrated the fleeting time. soaking in all of its beauty.

and moments suddenly vanished. and cars and planes transported us once again. to somewhere in between. where there is still much to discover along the way.

a moment in a place.

this is the place.

where mountains collide with sea.

where music dances through the springtime air.

and people dance in response. freely. incessently. harmoniously.

this is the moment.

when friends from ages past. and new acquaintences

gather on common ground.

and feet tap in rhythm with stringed instruments.

this is the place.

where the rain usually falls.

but somehow ceases.

to make allowance for blue skies that match our spirits.

this is the moment.

that teaches us impermance.

as beautiful chords must conclude.

and paths must inevitably diverge.

this is the place.

that will always be a part of us.

as the music that fills our souls.

inspires the next steps our feet take.

this is the moment.

to be embraced. and let go of.

to be loved. and abandoned.

as life flows on. the evolving symphony that it is.

purple beach glass

we searched for cracks in the frozen sea

to release these broken pieces of purple glass.

in hopes they might transform

into something beautiful.

by something bigger than ourselves.

in a timing we could not predict.

a ritual of letting go.

of leaving behind.

and on the days before i left, i will always remember

the blueness of the skies.

the brightness of spring's growing light

reflected in winter's lingering snow.

and i will remember climbing mountains

and crossing rivers.

in community. in solitude.

in noise. in silence.

and i will remember music in living rooms.

that sometimes invited listening.

and sometimes encouraged playing.

but always warmed my heart.

and i will remember laughter

around kitchen tables.

and tears on carpeted floors

when we realized the changing times.

and i will remember the people i came to know.

the people i came to love.

from the youngest who spoke my name

to the oldest who wished she could see my face.

and i will know,

beyond a doubt,

that i was loved.

that i am loved still.

and i will remember the words of a wise woman

who said i must lose sight of the shore to discover another.

as she gave me her blessing.

to explore. to seek. to find.

so the blue skies. the white snow.

the music. the people.

the beauty in all its kinds.

will always be a part of me.

no matter where the wind blows,

i will always know

i have places to go back to.

and purple beach glass to find.

blue sky.

there were seemingly eternal blustery days.
of harsh winds. and gray skies.
when the ambiguous snow confused our eyes.
was it falling from the sky?
or flying from the ground?
regardless, we retreated to the places where we might find shelter.

but with the impermanence that forever characterizes the weather.
change is in the air.
in the blue skies that have returned.
in the sunlight.
growing steadily each day.
masked for so long by clouds.
now magnified in its new liberty.

and though the cold remains.
and will persist.
there is something tolerable.
and pleasant.
about these blue sky days.
something to be embraced.

time to be embraced.
time that is forever changing like the weather.
sending us to new places.
to new people.
to new moments.

soon, the season will have drastically shifted.
melting.
springtime.
awakening.
and this journey will also evolve with the coming of spring.

a land of winter beauty i must breathe in.
a land of winter beauty i must leave.

the earth resting quietly.
beneath blankets of white.
is whispering.
is beckoning.
come immerse yourself in me.
come join this rebirth.