a spirit of simplicity

 the bitter cold has kept me indoors and i begin to feel the loss of the natural world as my constant companion there is a stirring within me  to walk the beaches and the small woods of this rather tiny island exploring the lines of the horizon the lines of dawn the lines of the Atlantic as it laps the shore ~  across the street at dog beach a small dingy washed up on shore during the nor'easter we had just after New Years ~  many years ago another storm washed up the big wooden structure in the foreground the semi-circular pieces you see are for holding some type of oars I have no idea what it once was i tell the boys it is part of an old pirate ship ~ the very first house you can see, the green one, is our house ~ the market was on my list of things to do yesterday the list i put aside in favor of searching through every single drawer and file for a single piece of paper that, as it turns out, we never had to begin with th

walking out to play street hockey with daddy little things thursday thursday favorite things share your cup thursday

outdoor wednesday water world wednesday

remember that time he asks me and i do they live in another state now i tell him and i think she is some kind of a facilitator these days we do some juggling and sometimes we write late at night he wakes me singing old joni mitchell tunes dancing on the bed above me moonlight shining in strands of music fill our bedroom to everything there is a season said the one who started out singing country songs about embracing sustainablity turn, turn, turn...and our aspects do i think that it was fate that sent us here all these years later we were different then and yet the same remember all those plans we had I ask him -and he does   sunday whirl poetry pantry  

carrots abc wednesday

the bouquet texture tuesday our world tuesday sweet shot tuesday garden tuesday nature notes blo-ma

mosaic monday i heart macro macro monday nature footseps capturing the light amaze me monday  make it pretty monday

mosaic monday i heart macro macro monday nature footseps capturing the light amaze me monday  make it pretty monday

joe's tang soo do ribbons writing or letters & notice Jack's notice in elvish moon runes -translated into english for those of not fluent in elvish on water droplets on the red winterberries silhouette of grasses along the beach sunlit sunday our beautiful world scavenger hunt sunday

my name is Kara which as I girl I didn't like in the least because it was so different however, i have embraced my uniqueness and love my name now. it means pure or friend in Irish Gaelic.  I live on a rather tiny island in Massachusetts with my best friend, the man of my dreams. We have known each other since we were 11 but took a circuitous route finally getting together. We have a kooky jaberwocky family with children ranging in ages between 6 and 27...some are mine, some are his and some we have sort of accumulated along the way. One big happy family and in our home we: love each other, play guitars and piano, sing songs, go to school, spend time in our pajamas when we can, cook great food, drink tea and vodka and sometimes wine, play games together, take walks on the beach and in the wood, watch the sunrise and set over the Atlantic ocean, work, pet the dog, take naps, look out the window at the Ocean and the view, watch the sunrises and the

wine vast the saturday photo hunt saturday photo hunting

it's baaaaaack........ the polor vortex that is hovering about 0 today and even colder tonight ~ i am still loving Downton Abbey also, although I am somewhat loathe to admit it I am looking forward to Grey's Anatomy to  start again in February  ~ I used to love peanut butter and fluff sandwiches  -some people call it marshmallow creme- on white bread it was my nod to all things horrible and i only allowed myself one sandwich every year or so i can't/won't eat them anymore  Grey's Anatomy is my "fluff" these days ~ it is a new semester in school and for the first time I am in a class with people who are young younger than my own children OMG  LOL  IDK how these professors do it every semester ~ i am taking a class that is new to the curriculum which is called  environmental sociology  i think I am going to enjoy it very much  round robin challenge the

perhaps we are all part wood nymph part elvish faerie rambling about in tiny woodlands a-roving where we may these are things i think of when i settle in a dark and moistened shady glenn with old moss and lichen gathered about me I'm part wood nymph. I require mountains and warm, dense patches of moss to thrive. Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/moss.html#rLqSzGuI7fHylkel.99 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ little things thursday thursday favorite things share your cup thursday I'm part wood nymph. I require mountains and warm, dense patches of moss to thrive. Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/moss.html#rLqSzGuI7fHylkel.99 I'm part wood nymph. I require mountains and warm, dense patches of moss to thrive. Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/moss.html#rLqSzGuI7fHylkel.99

you remind me of him she told me as we sat drinking martinis at the bar she full of disdain and bitterness colder than the grey goose we sipped upon and growing older by the mouthful me with moon eyes when i smile just like my fathers imaginary gardens with real toads eyes

fog banks often sock us in here on this rather tiny island on this day we could see only the top of the windmill  the fog is covering up the little city nestled on the other side of the greyish sound thematicphotographic water world wednesday

Banana abc wednesday

i cannot identify this fungi. It has been growing in the garden since late summer.  It started out about 12 inches round and flat like a dinner plate but has sort of curled up into almost a series of bowls or cups about 4 or 6 inches round. It holds rain water for a day or two and has survived the polar vortex, not to mention, a few blizzards and a fairly constant assault of salt spray being blown directly off the ocean, which is only about a football field away. It gets smaller and smaller as it curls inward and I begin to think it will curl right into itself Alice in wonderland style and disappear all together. It is covered with black and green spores and despite my outstanding photography it is, in fact, quite homely. ~ ~ ~ texture tuesday our world tuesday sweet shot tuesday garden tuesday nature notes blo-ma outdoor wednesday

pear macro monday

nature footsteps capturing the light amaze me monday

in the oaken wood  owl nest sits in an old yellow pine where the trunk bends entwined with moonseed vines chilling squalls sigh through tree tops conjuring neglected spirits  pulling my cap down over my curls  i put my back to the wind  and carry my trinkets home-   sunday whirl poets united

“ Do you wrestle with dreams? Do you contend with shadows? Do you move in a kind of sleep? Time has slipped away. Your life is stolen. You tarried with trifles, Victim of your folly." -Frank Hebert, Dune my garden hat which languishes on a hook...waiting patiently for spring antique Oliver Twist, The Swiss Family Robinson and an old Bobsey Twins book not only antiques but classics a door something you are comfortable with our sofa where i often sit with a cup of tea and my laptop who is there it is just me ~ ~ ~ our beautiful world scavenger hunt sunday

bivalve ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ we two are a rippled oyster shell two parts two valves hinged together an exoskeleton  often found in saltwater protecting a cherished center because we two are a rippled oyster shell a pearl nesting in a teary sea ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ two ripple the saturday photo hunt saturday photo hunting

blow out the candles and close the door you command me softly in the blackness i am bald and garmentless as your tongue glides over me i am wild and murmurous white knuckled in the cool sheets the blue moon illuminates the yew in the garden just outside the window and your spirituous silence over me imaginary gardens with real toads  poets united knuckle  tongues  candles  wild  murmurous  silence  yew  garments  blackness  candles  spirituous  bald  door  moon  imaginary gardens with real toads

"where the bee sucks, there suck I in a cowslip's bell I lie" -Ariel ~ 1 ~ last week i picked up some primrose to gift my mother and daughters with. we had gathered together to celebrate my daughter's 23rd birthday and I wanted to send them home with something bright and hopeful mine sits cheerfully in the sunny kitchen window ever so gladsome waiting for spring ~ 2 ~ we are in the midst of a january thaw it has been rainy and grey and in the upper 40's a brief respite from the bitter cold of last week's winter ~ 3 ~ these are soup evenings early suppers and early sunsets and for those of us whose circadian rhythms follow the rhythms of the earth early bedtimes ~ 4 ~ i have decided that i am going to paint the inside of the kitchen pantry.    it is quite large and i think between prep and drying times it should take me a good solid weekend i am going to start the last weekend in Janua

APPLE abc wednesday

one of my favorite gifts this year was an old-ish and very small copy of Dickens A Christmas Carol from my daughter. perfect reading material for climbing into a big comfy chair  on these grey dreary days with a cup of tea texture tuesday our world Tuesday sweet shot tuesday 52 weeks of happiness 52 photos

morning sun shines onto a small table but in the night one can imagine reading Dickens by candlelight nature footsteps capturing the light amaze me monday

  i spent the morning  gathered at the kitchen table with a few pears in the sunlight macro monday inspire me monday mosaic monday

i could not fathom then just what the sea would hold when first i came to this post so many years ago... i stand upon a pinnacle rising out of the deepest water which spins around this universe days and nights marked only by the sun which rises and sets accordingly stars and sea and stars and sea and stars and sea I was young then and star-struck with the majesty so carelessly I tossed my secrets deep into her stormy depths never seeing, in my innocence,  that I could lament the loss of them now I stand on the edge and call those secrets back to me those days when I thought I had something worth holding and those days when I knew I had nothing but they do not answer sometimes I think i see them glimmering on the glass of a smooth sea but it is only mirrors what the sea takes it does not easily give back and this sea has taken all from me only when the storms come do I remember that I gave it willingly an

fire i burn in our song your flaming licks consume me daylight smoldering poetry jam

sweeping the threshold  pools of litter illuminated in the morning light piled at her feet  lifeless now but  she was haunted by the scenes that lay in those piles dust to dust is the price one pays for the impact of what we leave in our wake powdery flakes her grandmother had walked through long ago microscopic bits of crayons the children had colored with when their hands were still tiny dirt from the garden her mother had tracked in that day in October when they had planted all the tulips sand from the beach they had all swept in circles... in and out like the tide  one she had laid with on this wooden floor under the light of the moon that night  fragments they had created with their storm still sparkled in some remote crevice of this threshold that she swept now sunday scribblings sunday whirl poets united imaginary gardens with real toads

happens every day  sparrows come to breakfast on the porch feeders natural branches bare allow us glimpses into beautiful little birds nests  this one is nestled in the bulrushes upside down man made Boston city skyline across Broad Sound it has been so cold that the Atlantic has frozen here. This is not something that happens every day looking down walking the beach in bright wellies the icy waters of the Atlantic have melted and the tide laps gently at the shore once again all is right again with this spinning orb we live on for our beautiful world shadow scavenger hunt sunday our beautiful world

nature footsteps blo-ma i heart macro garden tuesday