Spider

brushing my hair tonight in the bathroom, i startled at the sight of a daddy-long-legs clinging to the underside of the hot water handle. i have a great deal of appreciation and respect for spiders, and generally am glad to see them, but the positioning of this one, right where a hand could grasp it unknowingly, caught me off guard. i watched it for a bit while watching my insides roll. it struggled to keep its grip on the metal handle, then it pulled its abdomen up to the handle, appearing to sit down, and drank from a droplet of water that was clinging there.

after a brief drink, it struggled and finally succeeded in fixing a bit of webbing to the handle, lowered itself down in jerks to the sink, walked to a larger pool of water, and appeared to sit down there as well, just at the very edge of the water, and drink more. it occurred to me that it may come to the sink routinely, whenever it hasn't seen enough insect action to keep it hydrated.

what a world we live in, where during the whirlwind of our days, completely unbeknownst to us, spiders come to our sinks to drink.

This is it

sunny, breezy, bright day.

started re-reading zinn's Wherever You Go, There You Are, to help pull me out of my frenzied busy-ness of late. startling how vivid my moments become when i once again remember to wake up in them, to remind myself that "this is it", this one moment here is all that exists right now, and is all that will ever exist. grateful for exposure to these ancient teachings.

Flowers

walked beside the river today, me, the boy, and the dog. as the trail curled around the quarry, a sea of waving queen anne's lace greeted us. a blanket of snowy lace, two and a half feet off the ground, bobbing and ducking, like a painting of childhood.

driving home tonight from a movie in the park in town, i took in the view just before our road: dark fields, dark trees, dusky pastel sky, just evening as far as i could see. grateful to live in a place where there are still some areas free of houses and lights.

Dusk

living in the busy-ness of my days, forgetting to write.

lovely day, sun and breezes and birds singing.

evening on porch with husband, boy, and dog. watched the trees move, admired the land and garden, passed the boy back and forth as we dined and drank rose wine. two cedar waxwings visited the apple boughs attached to our porch, giving us both a glorious close-up view of their "elegance," as my husband described them (after exclaiming "what the hell are those?!" upon first spotting them).

Ducks & Dragonflies

cool day, only around 80, with refreshing breezes throughout the land.

waded with a friend and our little ones in the river this afternoon, my boy splashing and kicking studiously. tiny benign black flies nearly carpeted the water around us, unfazed by our splashes, moving only if we walked through their gatherings. ducks joined us, preening and letting out quiet "wak-wak"s as they glided by. one stretched her neck out parallel to the water, swinging back and forth, gobbling up the tiny flies.

a pair of mating dragonflies alighted on my boy's forehead, to the innocent delight of my friend's child.

Hot

missed a day again.

heavy air, two downpours this afternoon. sunflowers i planted 3 weeks late are up two inches, growing rapidly. pulled all the lettuce today, some of it already bolted. pulled one basil that was bolting & made & froze a batch of pesto.

started a batch of sourdough from my sister's starter, soaked some lentils yesterday to sprout, and made my first batch of beef stock from Nourishing Traditions. also started baby blanket for a friend with a little one right around the corner.

spent much of today feeling stagnant and unproductive.

Comfort

back home on the train today. more trees, houses, world for the little one to admire.

dog having an underfoot day at home, in front of me each step i took, rarely leaving me for his own company. i was fine for a while, then my patience evaporated and i ran him from the room. working in the garden with husband later, my frustration extended to the mosquitoes, the tomato suckers i was pruning, everything that posed any obstacle to me.

asked for help to move through the lesson. remembered to be thankful for the plants, for our relation to everything, to not simply take them for granted, and this pulled me up from my fire a bit. then my stomachache arrived, worsening over the next couple of hours, spending the very last of my patience. but when it subsided, i was given a new kind of life, a joyfulness to simply be comfortable, to be able to experience ease and relaxation, pleasure. i had all the patience and compassion in the world for the dog, boy, husband, everything that makes life rich.