Binaakwe-giizis (Falling Leaves Moon) Edition
the deer saw me first, our eyes met and we stood still, breathing the cool air. (9/29)
high above, grey clouds, the morning fresh and lovely, one lost goose flying. (10/4)
winter on the wind, the geese invisible near, their honks sad and true (10/7)
first frost this morning, the air clean and fresh with it, all the birds singing (10/9)
my kitty cat, must you bump my writing hand? my love so needed (10/14)
the dog's heavy sigh, my shoulders relax with it, as if i breathed it (10/15)
the clouds lie in folds, a blanket of grey flannels, and someone moves them (10/22)
into the yard in slippers, what is this white stuff fallen? a shiver, delight! (10/30)
I am so thankful that you got me started doing this each morning. Miigwech from the bottom of my heart!
chihuahuas can be just as dangerous as escalades...thankfully not this month
Similar to one sentence, perhaps? A few months ago I started recording each day's delights--moments that made me stop and really pay attention. I can go back to a day, read that list, and be back in those moments more vividly than with my wordier descriptions of a day's events. I don't have a goal for how many--just whatever I notice and write. Yesterday's list:
- Gentle fog creating a curtained room all around
- Stepping into a forest path 3 minutes from my door
- Ducks splashing vigorously in the shallows of the bay
- Green trees all around a path and arching high overhead
- Brown dog bounding in joy on the beach
" Ashes from the morning medicine floating on the surface of my coffee." Aho.
Wishing you peace and deep connections in this thin veil time.
and Grandmother Moon on my Birthday!
grandmother moon shines
through the night dark pine branches
silver balm of grace
Fleeting fire in the sky this wintry post-Halloween Minnesota morning, veil regaining strength as the seen and unseen part ways for another year.
“The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it.” ―Dylan Thomas
I love them all, Chris…♥️
11/1/23 The reds and oranges and violets of today's sunrise peacefully, gently illuminating the undersides of the voluptuous clouds provide stark contrast to the stench and noise of a pasture full of horny goats.
“Let anyone in a hurry be damned” - the only thing I want to hurry is growing old. Desperate for my crone era.
Today I have been contemplating how much truth to tell in memoir, if some stories are just ours - if we are frauds if we don’t reveal all- or if that just makes us human
I then opened my bedroom and found Cato, my sweet anxious dog, had destroyed the draft of one of the chapters I had written about her
"Where yesterday morning there was raucously one, today three Stellar’s jays greet me from the tree in my yard as I step outside and it’s all I can do not to fall off my porch in joy." 💜 And the last line.....yes! 🥰
Fifty-one years has apparently been just enough time to learn of the word termagant--a word I could have put to great use at times of my life. (10/3)
First frost staying through afternoon shade and a daylight half moon--grateful to live in a time when the moon still appears as it had for our ancestors. (10/4)
Magpies eat like a young child first discovering food--messy, scattering nuts across every adjacent surface, standing in the middle of the plate as if to declare 'mine!' (10/5)
Early morning of snow makes the return to bed, after letting the dog out, far more delightful. (10/11)
A stone wall is a hard thing to crumble with words coming from only one direction. (10/14)
The smaller woodpecker arrives and realized I know the sound of her greeting without sight. (10/15)
Leaves have fallen, the space they left replaced by slopes of mountains in the distance. (10/24)
It occurs to me that the world would be a much better place if each of us had some sassy elders we could spend time with and some aunties' laughter to listen to. How lucky we are that Nookomis reminds of her glorious beauty every month!
2023_1027: Despite the flames of summer the boy dances on.
2023_1028: It is easy to forget how magnificent Nookomis is at her fullest on a cold, cold winter night … and here she is, to remind me.
2023_1031: Stare too long into the abyss and eventually a chihuahua stares back.
November 1, 2023: An immense relief to be fully alive and know that I am not alone, no matter what happens.
Grateful for this past year of single sentences. This month's sentences reached me at the exact moment I needed them to bring me safely out of a dark place.
Red-tail drops, misses, screams his hunger and my fatigue-fueled imagination supplies a tiny rodent roar of triumph.
“Stare too long into the abyss and eventually a chihuahua stares back.”
You are an inspiration to many!
2023_1101: Now on winter's manic seesaw of melt and refreeze, I congratulate myself each day I manage to not slip and fall on my ass.
The other night as I was going through my email, what popped into my head was: Yay, it's almost time for another one sentence post! I really enjoy these.