Crossing the pond again

The bags are packed and waiting in the hallway. It's only two small carry-ons, since losing my luggage was a bit too much adventure last year.



I'm hoping you will join me through the eyes of the camera these next weeks, as I'll be working on a Royal Caribbean Cruise ship sailing to Spain, Italy and France... and then doing it all over again.


I'll wave at you from Barcelona!

Around home

Perhaps it's only me, but in the autumn light everything appears honeyed.

Crisp morning air, russet apples, trees marching in rows down a field... it all seems coated with a thin film of gold.



I was out on my daily jog, trailing three silly-looking dogs and snapping photos like a tourist yesterday when two car-loads of strangers drove by slowly and stopped.

They gazed at me with questioning looks, and I could almost hear them thinking, "Looks ordinary to me. What's she taking pictures of- that dumb branch?"

After a moment I could see them begin to laugh, and off they went.



But there I stood with my mouth hanging open in awe.

Isn't it absolutely amazing how gorgeous a branch can be? Even an ordinary one.

Then the dogs and I trotted toward home, geese sailing overhead and wind ruffling our hair.

Design from a grasshopper's leg

There he was, nibbling on my winter squash, bold as brass.

I know it, I should have squashed him, but instead I hollered over the fence, "Susan, there's a gorgeous grasshopper over here!"

Susan's boys are still young enough to be fascinated with the things I find captivating... you know... grasshoppers, frogs, snips & snails & puppy dog tails. That sort of thing.



Pretty soon I was taking a bug's eye view, giving the little guy his own photo shoot.

Isn't he amazing?

People are always asking me, "where do you get your ideas?"


If I told them how inspiring this grasshopper's leg decorations are, how endlessly fascinating his segmented abdomen, how lovely his brassy wings, nobody would believe me.




But today I learned a world about design and beauty and balance. There was a whole lesson there for me, placed in my own backyard by the Creator Himself.

And He packed it all in one neat and tidy package: a grasshopper sitting on my winter squash.

Samuel and the garden hens

Mornings gathering eggs are magical.

The only thing that can make it even sweeter is the laughter of a little boy.

The pictures tell it far better than my words can do...


(Insert giggles here.)


The chicken wanted a bird's eye view of Samuel, and Samuel wanted scrambled eggs for lunch.

Those hens gave up and decided to take the ladder down to the ground floor...


Love that wee little barnyard in the corner of the garden.



Eggs hide in the straw.

Rain drips from eaves.

There's bread rising on the back of the stove.

And a little boy visiting.


Life is good.

Bonfires & other autumn delights

One of the joys of living in a rural area is the fun of gathering for an autumn bonfire.

And so it was that we gathered last evening in Jim & Becky's horse pasture for marshmallows and hot dogs, served up by the crackling fire to the accompaniment of laughter and wagging tails.



Behind our home, the barn is looking worse than ever. I wish our neighbors would fix the dear old thing. One of these days it's going to blow down and I'll be sadder than sad.

The cornstalks are still standing in the field beyond but the crop is past. Summer is only a memory now.

We're still delighting in blue skies and crisp morning air, even as we look to the rainy days ahead.



Still hiking on the occasional glorious autumn afternoon, and feeling dwarfed by the majesty of the mountains. Can you even spot me in the photo?

I've been working on a series of botanicals, and snapping reference photos to use in my work.

But believe me, it's not all hikes and bonfires around here! Tomorrow I'll share sneak peeks at the messy studio, the snippets and scribbles, and the finished art emerging from the scissors, pens and brushes lately...

Autumn's burnished colors

I just love the afternoon light in autumn, and the way it turns my walks to golden moments.



In autumn, everything seems burnished somehow, and my favorite shades of russet and copper and yellow surround me.

I'm punch-drunk on color.


Under decaying logs on the forest floor, mushrooms pop up...



On maples and aspens, birch and cottonwoods, the leaves make a spectacular farewell. Some say our Northwest fall is nothing compared to the Eastern woods, but I was a California girl, and I find our autumn nothing short of splendid.




Along the river I find gems all around my own home...

rose hips...
brambly hedges of blackberry...
gently drifting ginkgo leaves...



It's time to bake a pan of apples in celebration, and eat them by the fire while the rain drips from the eaves.

Summer was grand but nothing beats autumn, does it?

Sweet wrinkles

Is there a face you find especially dear? One whose wrinkles grow sweeter with every passing year?

This wonderful woman was my grandma's friend, my mother's confidante, my own dear second mama now that mine is gone.

Her visit this week made me think: What kind of mentor am I to younger women? What sort of elderly woman will I someday be?

Her body is fragile as thin old porcelain, but her cheerful spirit hasn't changed a bit. She's so positive and kind hearted.

And when she left yesterday, knowing it was likely our last goodbye, for me it was a four kleenex farewell.

I adore each and every wrinkle on this wonderful woman's face.

Hiking in the Cascades

Autumn is more lovely here than anywhere else I know.



The foliage is just beginning to look like fall and snow is forecast for the mountains on Tuesday.

So we took advantage of Sunday's brilliant blue skies, packed into Jim & Becky's jeep and tootled up the Mount Baker Highway toward the glaciers.




There we found mushrooms, huckleberries, the last of the blueberries hiding in foliage already turning the mountains to scarlet...





A hint of chill in the air didn't scare the bees away, though they were drowsy.

Ferns are dying back but the bronze tones were inspiring... I never thought to do ferns in these shapes. I never thought of turning their dainty tufts back in fancy curls like these either.




True confessions: I ate like a bear headed for hibernation, stuffing myself on tiny gems like this one. What a burst of flavor.



We returned refreshed. What glories we saw today.

Everyday miracles. Wow.

Looking up

Sometimes it's hard not to fall prey to concentrating on the everyday nitty gritty.

You, know, the ever-present to-do list.

I haven't reached the bottom of mine in longer than I can remember.

But just about the time I'm about to sink in the mire of discouragement, something causes me to look up.




Yesterday it was the sky.

And suddenly my whole perspective changed.

Somehow the mundane "must-do-today" list became less overwhelming in the face of the glories around me.


Sky. Sunset. Light and shadow.

The changing seasons. Crisper air, shorter days.

Deep breaths.

It'll all get done. Perspective, that's the thing.

Remembering that my best is all I've got to give, and it's good enough. It's okay to make time to stop for a minute or two to simply enjoy being alive in such a beautiful world.

I wondered what was going on... why were only two of our hens laying?

The little chicken yard is home to contented clucking and much pecking at the scraps I toss in along with the chicken scratch.

So why only a few eggs?



Mystery solved. Brian found a clutch of eggs tucked between the ferns and bleeding heart beside the studio door (how did I not see this???)

It was that hen who has been escaping from the pen with regularity.



Caught and taken home again to the coop, she is the epitome of righteous indignation.

"I will not suffer this kind of treatment!" she seems to say, glaring at me.



She has been pacing all afternoon.

It's funny to think I am doing battle with a chicken and losing. As the evidence shows, she has been out to lay her eggs almost under my nose every day for six days and me none the wiser.

But since I've just finished a Partridge in a Pear Tree and moving on to Three French Hens I think the timing is impeccable!