Isabella Bird Miscellany

only a shadow I’m out. I’m free. I drove. I’m capable. My sweet zombie apocalypse Mini Cooper is awesome! It tears up the snow and ice like the Wulfe that it is, however, the beauty and the curse of my ride is the low ground clearance. It’s brilliant for stability in a myriad of road conditions, except for deep snow, and deep snow has happened in my city. Roads are plowed in town and actually in my neighborhood. The issue has arrived in the alley which leads to my garage. It is only passable if you happen to drive a 4 x 4 that’s jacked 10 feet up. Well, maybe I am exaggerating a tiny bit, but needless to say, Wulfe has stayed in the garage for almost a week. my sweet wulfe before the snow continued and continued and continued Wulfe and I’d been out four-wheeling in the grocery store parking lot on Saturday. I can’t believe I didn’t go anywhere in a vehicle until late Wednesday morning. I’d walked and shoveled snow and cooked and did some work from home;...

I've always said that I'm a "dial-a-season" girl. Leaves and gorgeous colors in the fall, and I like snow at Christmas because, well, it's supposed to be snowy then, unless you live in Australia. Christmas in the summer does mess with you head when you've always experienced Christmas in the winter. Seasons just don't work on my personal whims! I've always said that I'm a "dial-a-season" girl. Anyway, I'm trying really hard to embrace all of the white stuff that we've been receiving this year. Granted, it is beautiful, covering the landscape in frosty wonder, and as I look at it through my camera lens, I do see the beauty instead of of the shoveling and sliding around. Have a look at what I'm enjoying through my camera's eye . These brave snow birds clung to branches on a walk through Drake Park. They didn't seem to mind one little bit that their tree was coated in ice. They continued to sing th...

red twigs emerge with beauty through the drifts of snow Ode to the winter wonderland that I find myself in, where all is white with shades of gray, except for the kids dressed in snow pants and bright hats and scarves. To venture out into the frigid temps, a daring feat of layer upon layer; moving like molasses. Still, the beauty is stark, serene and surreal. Gone are the days of sunshine and bare feet Tree branches are bare and dark across the snow laden landscape, motionless in the biting air Brittle twigs from last year’s flowers edge through the ice, a poignant reminder of what was Gone are lazy afternoons laying in the grass as puffy clouds drift overhead The frozen lake now dons the footprints of would-be skaters leaving a path of figure-eights And children laugh as they slide down the hill on sleds and red flying saucers Gone are the summertime adventures in shorts with bodies slathered in sunscreen Put away by a winter wonderland of crystalline w...

frozen drips waiting for release Sitting in silence. It’s still dark outside. White lights on the Christmas tree reflect off the dangling colored ornaments. Stock simmers on the stove. Drips can be heard outside; it’s the first day in a week above freezing. Yesterday, I posted a graphic I’d saved. It simply read, “Silence calms my soul.” Silence is a gift. Silence is golden. Silence is often missed; not even an operative word. We live with so much noise, chatter continually happening, externally, yes, but internally. Sitting in silence , I listen for sound; the stockpot lid starting to rattle, more melting and splashing, the coffee pot’s gurgling, my dog stretching and changing position. In silence I hear these things that might otherwise be missed. Thousands of years ago, shepherds sat in the silence of the night. I imagine there was a warm, crackling fire and stories of the day being shared among friends.  Their silence was broken with a great anno...

little hands reaching for the wonder It was a weekend of Christmas events – the season is in full swing, carols of cheer ring through shops and festivities. The massive tree downtown had the switch flipped, illuminating it with thousands of tiny colored lights while onlookers sipped hot chocolate topped with a mound of swirled whipped cream. People chatted and warmed themselves around small half kegs turned into fire pits and raised to table height. It looked like a scene out of a Dickens story only set in modern day America. Saturday was parade day, a parade like only happens in a small city; marching bands and floats with scouts and girls’ dance teams; prancing horses with jingle bells and the requisite pooper-scooper tagging behind. Bystanders waved and wished all a “Merry Christmas” with an equally enthusiastic response. A heartwarming and genuine spirit of Christmas. And...more hot chocolate and Santa making his grand appearance at the tail end of the parade that woun...

winter seeds, all is not dormant Soft season of quiet anticipation, blankets with mist and snow Preparing for the dormant time   Sweet solitude balms the weary, all is in calm repose Patient and silent in winter’s rest   Come gentle season of peace and stillness, envelope in candlelight and flickering fire Welcome Counselor, welcome Advent   Solus Christus Sunday was the beginning of Advent, a time marked with anticipation of something, someone to come. It’s a time of expectant waiting; things coming into being. I am quiet. I am anticipating. I am waiting for things to come into being. Missy If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance

thanksgiving: grateful acknowledgement of divine favor     Pine needles lay like pokey Pick-Up-Sticks on the sidewalk. I notice them as I walk; that and cracks, pebbles and dirt that washed from a flower bed in a recent rain. Stuff scattered on the sidewalk. It’s not clean. It’s rather messy. Thanksgiving is tomorrow; a day marked on the calendar to acknowledge the good things in our lives. This is good, right? For a lot of us the answer is “yes,” but this year, more than ever, I’m keenly aware of how desperately painful the Holidays can be. People’s lives and relationships look like the messy sidewalk, so they don’t want to walk there. I get that; it looks like there’s nothing good to acknowledge. There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy – Ralph H Blum Walking, I look more closely at the pine needles, seeing the slender taper, the soft brown color and the patterns they leave on the sidewalk. The cracks spider-out like delicate s...