signs that summer is making making way for fall

the crepe myrtles release their blossoms like a gently falling fuchsia snow.

the sky loses a bit of that white-fade it tends to fancy in the summer months and returns to a deep blue.

the trees are exhibiting the fullest expression of green.  right before their autumnal grand finale.

the honeycrisp apple makes her debut.

grace, lately

the leaves are beginning to fall.  i love summer, but autumn is my favorite time of year.  it's when i feel a sense of comfort and renewal and its beauty leaves me in a perpetual state of awe.

i love being a homebody.  i am so grateful for a quiet, nurturing space and the person and creatures i share it with.

when i teach in roanoke, i walk past this building on the way to the office.  if i were to live in a city building, i would want it to be something like this.

don't you love it when you find an article of clothing that could not be more suited for you?  it was instant love when i found this coat.  i can't wait to wear it.

transitioning out of summer means one final cleaning and organization of our outdoor space.  we spent saturday outside in glorious weather tending to this piece of world that is so dear to us.  this rug was one of my first purchases for our backyard 12 years ago.  it is made of recycled plastic bottles and it is a beautiful powerhouse.  we've never brought it in and it has withstood years of rain, dogs and various other wild animals, blizzards and ice.  i highly recommend them.  you can find them many places, this site is a good start.

and finally, this week the lovely jen lee and i finalized plans for a screening of her documentary indie kindred to play locally at randolph college in the fall.  i am over the moon.  i love jen and her talent never fails to blow me away.  the film is about creatives finding each other and working together to make the world beautiful.  take a look at the trailer here.  you can find screening locations and ticket information here.

autumn is going to be amazing.  thank you universe.

grace, lately

little tokens and wishes at the buddha on the porch.

a lotus pod symbolizes the sanctuary of community where the seeds of creativity and expression are nurtured.  sometimes this seems so far away.  and then there is it, right in front of me.

sometimes my introversion feels more like misanthropy and it frightens me.  i nearly lost my sh!t in the supermarket because...well....some humans, ugh!  i looked up and saw these three jesuses sweetly reminding me of goodness.

doodling mandalas regulates all kinds of things:  breath, heartbeat, mindblur, wild mood swings, introversion/misanthropy imbalances.

a perfect lotus, a latebloomer.  message received.

grace, lately

when i was in new york earlier this summer, i purchased some flower tea balls at pearl river.  i forgot about them until this week.  i dropped one in hot water and watched it slowly bloom.  it was completely meditative.  i chilled the tea then enjoyed it in the backyard on a very sultry evening.  i love how ethereal it is.

the sign of a great story for me is when i read a line and have to put the book down to breathe and "recover" from the electric current shot from the page to my heart.  i opened this book a week ago and i'm slowly making my way through.  i'm only on the third story, if that gives you any idea of how many times i've set it down to breathe.

this is summer

these words

my short temper

that is so short
it sometimes can’t reach
a kind word
lives right beside
my skyscraper heart
that paints all its windows
to save all the little birds

andrea gibson

so, lately

summer beauty has been rocking my world.

luca and i are getting out more often for walks.  because we have a great neighborhood for walking: lots of hills, not much traffic, friendly people.  also, luca has an excess of yayas and needs to work them out on a regular basis.

summer skies.

my preferred method of sunscreen.

there was a dirty chai with extra love.

and this rug.  because, you know, what my house needs is more color.  ; )

and this guy with his broken wing, unaware or unbothered by his circumstance, still giving it his beautiful all.