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there is the Fence. The need. the heartbreak. Their trail ran up, diagonal, through Campsite B., off into the hinterland. It's blocked now. They go up, along the new fence and then over, their Beauty Full path no longer.
leveling to create a new Compost, an ongoing compost, an ALIVE compost
balancing the tops of the ridge of rock earth
view from the toilet. Alyssia couldn't bear to sell them, but didn't want them. I'll try them out, see how they might work. I love my big round baskets but they also collect a lot of dust and cat hair.
waking at 3 am. Wanting to stay awake, wanting to go back to sleep. Wanting Both. Love the light of the night light on the Cloth Wall. Is like it should be the opening image of a long or short story. Loved the thought of how it would appear from outside, maybe some distance away, the light through the travel trailer window, the travel trailer that doesn't go anywhere
Daughter Jenny held feelings about New Mexico. Specifically, for the WIND. And although It could be harsh, i continued to love It. I'd thought i would miss Wind here....but i'm not because it has been so present. So really present this winter, the second winter, more than last, my first. Those atmospheric rivers have been driven by Wind, it's been severe. In the forest over there, up and to the far side of Campsite C, 3 extremely large trees have gone down. and it's a forest, so when an extremely big tree goes down, it takes many smaller trees in it's Fall. Up there today, i stood. Just stood, because i couldn't think of anything else to do. I can't think of anything anyone might do next. Do you let them lie?, atop of live trees? Crushing them over? And even if the answer would be no, how is it possible to cut them? remove them? from the place they fell?
the forest floor is very quiet and easy. In one week, moss has covered many things. Completely. Earth would take back those trees, eventually. In many years, they would fall incrementally Down, to be taken INTO Earth. Become Earth. What is our place here?
What is our place here?
there was an ebb in the Flow of the Atmospheric River. There was SUN. A "sky" with clouds in blue. I walked. I saw a million ways to be Alive, and then there's that interior self that's forever unseen but in the million and one~th way, the way that matters most, how we rise up from our own compost and show ourselves To Our Selves
resting in the drawer for a while. now...out and speaking.
you realize how little, really, there is to it. We mostly focus on their Wings. Their Wings. Butterfly Wings. but then, there's their bodies. Which aren't much at all. But then, there is the Spirit of butterflies, the All that they cause in us when we see them, sailing and sailing and sailing
but back to the bodies, the physical bodies. How did they evolve? I don't know. I never have taken the time to find out. I know that their numbers are dwindling. Maybe i should know how they came to be.
as i tried to stitch today, the day all RAIN and so little light and i turned on the light of the table battery to even see enough to put the needle to cloth and couldn't really tell how that was going, i couldn't see, the body so few stitches of single thread of Deb's floss. So little, this body that carries the Wings. But these butterflies, the midwives to whatever that is in the center, getting born, no matter what.
over to try to clean up the trashed cardboard at B. Got some done. Feeling good. Sun. Warm enough. Hauled some up to the blue truck that just sits there waiting for something to happen with the intent of putting all of the excess in the bed of it. Twice. and put cement blocks on large pieces that are still intact to hold them in place, so i thought, then small scraps into the wheelbarrow~y kind of thing. Progress.
and then they came from wherever they had been and that was the end of that. Ripping, tearing, pulling, rearranging, a maniacal hoard, i yelled some to no avail and just gave up. Walked away. Ok, then. As long as there is adequate food, Goats are very good at knowing what can be eaten and what can't. I trust that. Cardboard i guess is ok. But still, it bothers ME. Tomorrow i'll try some more. Try to be out there when they're down in the meadow by A.
but on the way back, i looked up to see that the young Manzanita is BLOOMING?????!!!???? Now? But all over town the Almond trees bloom. What an amazing Place this is. February. Maybe she blooms for you, Acey.
then i went to search the baskets for a particular last scrap of an old Rayon blouse. Not here. But it didn't matter, these pieces were clear. It's them.
and just such a little more for Lizard. Need to go slow. It's easy to do too much.
I follow a blog. thekitchensgarden.org Cecilia Mary Gunther a woman Farmer in the midst of the industrial agriculture wastelands of Illinois working to keep an Organic Farm. I am like a lot of people, i read her first thing every morning. I never comment. But i know her days like the back of my hand. She's a New Zealander, somehow married to a USA Midwest Farm man who has lost interest in farming the family land. She's FIERCE. Nanette turned me on to her. This morning she DID it. What i have been wondering when it would happen, when i wondered if it would be me that made it happen, but no..it's her. She addressed the reality of a dystopian future. She asked: What will the future generations need?, say 150 years from now up the road. What will those children need to survive and thrive? when things become tribal and spare?
there. she said it. and i read it. i went back a couple times to read HOW she said it. To feel, how she said it. For me, it's more than she addressed, my concerns feel uhhh, more angstful. My concerns are wrapped in the Loss of so many lifeforms, not just human concerns. Loss of species.
and here...i would like to send out a request to all who might read here....what blogs do you read that are addressing this? Would you please tell me? I know i must be ignorant of many....just not knowing. ?????
so there's a little crossroad here.
Last night and then again, all day today, there was no connection for this Laptop. Out of the blue. I had no clue. Just NOT. so i spent time thinking, thinking about why i blog everyday anyway. It's excessive. Why? and maybe i shouldn't? Maybe it's been long enough. So i looked at this particular day i would have put here Yesterday, a kind of off kilter day, the pic above of the cardboard boxes that Jenny had brought, all nice, but now a complete mess....Goats.....and then how i'd happily gone to the Post Office and brought home some really Great mail but also late in the day opened the mail that told me that at midnight same day, the 8th, my vehicle insurances would be canceled for past due and spent TIME trying to figure out how to pay them on line in the nick of time which Alyssia ended up figuring out for me, and how i'd decided to just call it a day, which was good because the laptop wouldn't work anymore anyway, something about Sync error with Google
but then, i looked at the little starting pots for seeds that i'd gotten the last of at the hardware. And thought about how there is Always something interesting, or worthwhile, or sometimes even absolutely Beauty Full, gentle, encouraging, loving, etc about any day at all that makes it important to note in this world of chaos all around. That for me, keeps a balance as i watch and read the great sad confusion that abounds in the news from Out There which really isn't Out There at all, but somehow touching the edges of Here too. So Alyssia came to switch the batteries that ignite the Heat system here, it's Cold. Not in terms of other places that you are, but Clold for here with great Wind, and she tapped and tapped and for now, Stuff seems ok. Here, in this moment, All is Well. I so Wish that for the World.
Love.....
