Showing posts from January, 2014

31 january

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

the market is on my list of things to do again today

it …

30 january

walking out to play street hockey with daddy

little things thursday
thursday favorite things
share your cup thursday

29 january


26 january

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

29 january


abc wednesday

28 january


27 january


27 january


26 january

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


of grasses along the beach

sunlit sunday

our beautiful world

scavenger hunt sunday

grow your blog

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 sunsets, smell the flowe…

25 january


24 january

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 white stuff
my town shoot out

wide open spaces
random 5 friday

weekly top shot

23 january


22 january

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


22 january

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

water world wednesday

22 january


abc wednesday

21 january

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

outdoor wednesday

20 january


20 january

nature footsteps
capturing the light
amaze me monday

19 january

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

19 January

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


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

18 january

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


the saturday photo hunt
saturday photo hunting

15 January

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


imaginary gardens with real toads

16 January

"where the bee sucks, there suck I
in a cowslip's bell I lie"

~ 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 January 

~ 5 ~

i love the way a garden yields

to the passing of the seasons

each f…

15 January


14 January

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

13 January

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

13 January

i spent the morning  gathered at the kitchen table with a few pears in the sunlight

macro monday

inspire me monday

mosaic monday

12 January

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
and i am free


12 January


i burn in our song

your flaming licks consume me

daylight smoldering

poetry jam

12 january

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

12 January

happens every day
 sparrows come to breakfast on the porch feeders

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


scavenger hunt sunday

our beautiful world

11 january