Pillow Land

Waking in the night, light coming in the transom glowed pink - a good indication that snow was falling. Waiting for sleep, I listened to wind rattle the metal wreath at the front door and shush as it passed through tree branches. In the  morning, wind still sifted and twirled through the foot of new snow. The forest was transformed: snow blasted tree trunks and evergreen boughs were flocked white. Hushed as the surroundings, our touring skis made a soft pillowy sound as they fluffed and glided through winter's dreamscape.

A spot of bright color leads the way.

Observing and writing during January for

A River of Stones

Sunset Song

violet sunset

veil of silence on the peaks

mountain's lullaby

Just after sunset, Peaks 8 & 9, Breckenridge Ski Area

During January, I'm participating in 

A River of Stones

Mama Bear

mama bear watches

skepticism in her gaze

I avert my eyes

Mama Bear was painted by my daughter-in-law, Michelle, and given to me as a gift. There's something about the Bear's eyes - no matter where I am, they're focused on me. Sometimes, I try communicating with her telepathically. I ask, "What 's on your mind?" Inscrutable, she remains quiet - watchful. She has that tiny half smile. Do I amuse her? Does she like me? Her demeanor is colorful but unvarying and unyielding. So many questions, and Mama Bear doesn't feel the need to answer. She just fixes me with that all-knowing stare. Self possessed....enigmatic. She knows some secrets, and she's not telling.

A River of Stones

Hair Style

my gal clips, snips, shears

adding product she names it

dandelion gone wild

I'm participating in

A River of Stones

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Winter Wind

gusts swirling old snow

dark clouds in metalic sky

frigid breath taunting

Ski runs of Keystone Mountain in distance, taken from Peak 10, Breckenridge Ski Area

Each night hoping for snow, I wake to a paltry dusting swirling on gusts, blowing from peaks, whiting out the forest. Today, it seems prudent to sit by the fire, read, and watch the wind play with the snow. I'm still putting moisturizer on the frostbite I got yesterday, my skin looking coarse and chapped on my cheeks. The dry, cold winds of winter at altitude are not a gal's best friend. Only a blizzard would compensate for the harsh treatment of winter's icy breath.

Ever hopeful,

I'm musing and observing while participating in

A River of Stones

This or That

minus temperatures    blowing snow    frozen faces    skis won't slide

reevaluate the idea of "fun"

cozy house    crackling fire    strong coffee    fresh-baked gingerbread

decisions    decisions

Went skiing early and nearly froze. It was so cold that the skis "stuck" even going downhill. Lots of poling and possibly some minor swearing complaining. When the wind picked up, snow blew from the trees creating whiteout conditions. Any skin not covered froze immediately. After two hours of torture fun, we skied back home. Waldo smiled a greeting - he loves the cold. More snow due tonight - hopefully no windchill.

I'm trying to observe closely in January for

A River of Stones

New Snow

a dingy-laundry sky of fast-falling flakes bleaching the earth white

I'm doing a snow dance today in Breckenridge, CO
for
A River of Stones

Confidence

 My Granddaughter and I had a discussion a couple years ago about fear: how we must pay attention to the feeling because it may warn us of real danger. But, also, how we must examine it, face it, make sure fear doesn't hold us back from accomplishment, from joy, from growth. She was about six at the time, a twig of a child, preparing for her first Taekwondo Tournament where she was matched to spar with boys. A sweet, caring child, she's never liked loud noise, undue commotion, or hurtful violence. But, she's self-motivated and disciplined. I'm sure she's still afraid sometimes, as we all are (as I am occasionally when I watch her tackle a new challenge). Not physically strong, she develops other strengths, mental and emotional, that serve her well. She teaches me valuable Life lessons.

lessons from a child

face daily uncertainties

find the solution

Amanda Grooming Flower

I'm observing carefully through the month of January:

A River of Stones

Connection

spent a half hour on FaceTime

with my World traveler friend, Mary

she and her husband just arrived in NZ

a major piece of luggage "missing"

but smiling and upbeat as usual

gave me a tour of their rental apartment

views of green hills and peaked mountains

so distant from my winter white

we'll "see" each other on the computer

for the next three months she's gone

Mary last year in South America

A River of Stones

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

looked in the mirror this morning

(usually I focus a little to the side and up)

today I took inventory

what the heck happened

between 37 and 67

lines and dots mapping what 

once upon a time was 

uncharted territory

not to mention dandelion hair

sticking up in all directions

as though electricity

 entered at my feet

zapping upward

don't comfort me with

all the nice platitudes about

wisdom - experience - beatitude

it is what it is and

I'm seeing devastation

I won't even write about the body

no use frightening

my readers

Trip to Denver Zoo with Grandchildren 1/03/12

Observing (perhaps too) closely for:

A River of Stones

Rude Awakening

Before dawn, the plow scrapes into my sleep,
shoving both the snow and my dream to the side.

I'm participating in 

A River of Stones

Full Moon

In the  indigo essence of Wolf Moon, our touring skis creaked and buzzed in temperatures that turned snow flakes to ice crystals. Through the towering trees, the moon's pale glow banded the trail with ghostly light. Stars pricked the quilt of heaven. What was beyond our night vision lay in unknowable darkness. My heart beat in time to the night's song. I listened for coyotes' howls, maybe gathering for the hunt, but their tracks were our only (known) company. Perhaps they stood in the shadows, hackles rising, watching the strange creatures gliding in moonbeams through their territory.

I'm observing carefully for January's

A River of Stones

Early Morning Ski

in dawn's frigid glow

each exhale an icy mist 

we ski through the woods

I'm participating in
A River of Stones

Continuing the Journey

Two years ago, I abruptly realized I'm not immortal. I tore a major artery and my heart squeezed from constricted blood flow. One minute in robust health, the next diminished by pain and fear. Control is an illusion. In every moment there is uncertainty to be acknowledged and accepted. Move on, move forward, move over, or remain stuck. There are choices and outcomes. The worst really can happen and possible you'll conclude that you can withstand it, maybe even learn from it. Or not. The path for all is different, twisting and changing direction, but always leading to the same place. No matter what our beginnings, we'll reach our last breath and wish there was time for one more. For me, in this moment, for this breath, the journey continues. 

I posted about my heart attack at my main Blog Live and Learn.

covered bridge, Vail, CO

I gratefully participate today in

River of Stones

A Winter Treat

softly sifting flakes icing the ground with glazed frosting

Finally! Some much-needed snow in Breckenridge, CO. 

I'm pausing to observe carefully through the month of January for

A River of Stones

Kachina

I pass  Kachina when I run the bike path. She was donated to the Town of Breckenridge in 2004 by my friends, Susie & Rick. That was the same year that Susie was going through chemo and radiation for Ovarian Cancer. Today is Susie's 70th birthday. When I ran today, I sang Happy Birthday in front of Kachina and gave thanks for Susie's health. Kachina sparkled in the sun. Eagle looked alert and ready for flight on this special day.

I'm participating in

River of Stones

kachina   ancient one   spirit helper

let eagle soar
celebrate life

My Morning

Dry grasses poke through velvety white and bushes wear a thin layer of frost. In running shoes, I navigate trails sticky with melting snow. I keep my head raised but my eyes flick from ground to trees to mountains, enjoying the short and the long view. My heart rate rises, sweat wicking and freezing on the back of my fleece. Today winter seems like spring - not enough snow for January. At home, I take off my heart monitor and brew a cup of tea. Looking out the kitchen window, I see a moose, gigantic body in full trot, careening through my yard. She stops to look over her shoulder before disappearing like a hallucination into the forest. I blow on my peppermint tea and decide whether to have a peach scone or an almond biscotti. I'm feeling quite alive.

I'm participating in January's A River of Stones.

Old Woman

old woman 

bag of bones in pale coat 

smokey hair a frizzy halo

shuffled to slatted bench

lit a cigarette 

murmured  and chuckled 

waving her fingers

amusing herself

with meaningless conversation

In the city yesterday with my grandchildren, a woman approached and sat near us as they ran and dove and shrieked, playing tag. Two different worlds in close proximity. I watched both with interest.

I'm participating in

A River of Stones

Remembering - A River of Stones

memory is

a blank canvas

painted with emotion

I'm participating in small, daily observations throughout January:

A River of Stones

Winter White - A River of Stones

necklaces of tracks 

on the milky throat of snow 

seed pods as witness

Small observation for 

A River of Stones