As Above So Below

Winter’s way has laid the outside world bare.  The bareness of winter, the quiet serenity, and the snow blanket, can lay bare our inner world too  – if we let it.

As above so below.

An unsealed inner universe is open for marvelous reflection and deepening.  So much going on while the world sleeps.

Sparkly Tree

Bare, defined, disclosed, discovered, naked, resolved, solved, uncovered, unprotected, clear, debunked, denuded, divulged, exhibited, manifest, open, peeled, revealed, shown, stripped, unmasked, unsealed, unveiled, apparent, brought to light, evident, dug up, on view, unconcealed, unhidden, unsheltered…


“The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.”

-Joseph Campbell

“The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.”

-Joseph Campbell

Fence, Snow, Blues, Sunset


Are we brave enough to lay bare our souls?

To be authentic, real and raw?

To be open?

The Gift of the Trees

Night Sky, January

Out here in the woods, the tree dance brings a welcome, hearty, and ever changing song.

Season to season they stand in place and in witness of all of life’s wonder – a constant teaching.


 “A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship.  But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.                      -John Muir


February 7

“Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive.  When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is  truly important becomes whole and sound again.  When men reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.

-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Whitefish Train Depot – A Gallery of Photos

Trains, train depots, and train travel speak to me of slowing down, of Depot, View of Tracks, Train & Mountainthe journey being the destination, of savoring long conversations and of the gentle unfolding of time.   Adventure, travel, new experiences – all good things!  There is time on a train trip to absorb the beauty as it passes by.

My cross country train trip was a quiet and reflective journey and I’m looking forward to more train travel.  In the meantime I love going to our Whitefish Train Depot to feel the energy of adventure and anticipation, and to get some photos…Track Side Depot, Twilight

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”
Ernest Hemingway


“Not all those who wander are lost.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

*Slideshows will load below

First slideshow contains images by day,

The second slideshow are by night

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Celebrate What’s Right With the World

Dewitt Jones is a talented, creative photographer who lives on the sweet island of Molokai.  He spent 20 years working and photographing the wonders of the world for National Geographic. I’ve had his book What the Road Passes By for years and go to it often for uplifting words and to get absorbed in his photography.

I love his concept and website, “Celebrate What’s Right with the World”.  I think you will too.  He posts a weekly photo and it’s all about what’s good and beautiful and uplifting.

The link to his website is at the top of this post and you can sign up for his weekly photo posts.

There is so much that is right with the world.

Enjoy the celebration!


Every Time I’m in the Woods

“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
Mary Oliver

Every Time I'm in the Woods

200 Words for Love

These are my first two hundred words for love…

Craig, Little Bear (Bob Barker), Halle Blue Berry, Mom, My Brothers, David, Greg, Steve, Sisters-in-Law, Laura, Patricia, Shelly, Nieces & Nephews, Ashley, Sarah, Keelan, Rachel, Julia, Andrew, Friends, Pamela, Katherine, Betsy, Jane, Gloria, Anne, Elisheva, Tony, Mountains, Montana, My Home, Fires in the Hearth, Fire in the Heart, Smores, Music, Bonnie Riatt, Leonard Cohen, James Taylor, The Beatles, Books, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Essential Rumi, The Essential Ghandi, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Rainbows, Snowbows, Clouds, Sweet Breathing, Soft Breezes, Long Baths, Long Showers, Long Walks, Long Talks, French Fries, Pizza, Grilled Salmon, Robert Craig Cabernet, Robert Redford, Snow, Rain, Sunrise, Fawns, Wolves, Ravens, Yoga, Listening, Cross Country Drives, San Francisco, Seattle, Maui, Key West, Orcas Island, Molokai, Havasu Canyon, Boynton Canyon Vortex, Travel, Bhutan, Samoa, The Amalfi Coast, Paris, Crepes, Coffee, Chocolate, Bananas, Reading, Solitude, Candlelight, Gatherings, Drumming, Tibetan Singing Bowls, Raging Rivers, Soft Streams, Rhythmic Oceans, A Child’s Laughter, Craig’s Laughter, Tall Trees, Wind in the Trees Song, Hiking, Snowshoeing, My Jeep, Love, Sensuality, Kindness, Thoughtfulness, Gratitude, Humble Offerings, Sage, Rocks, The Seahawks, Tampa Bay Rays, March Madness.

Continue reading 200 Words for Love

Learning to be Astonished – Mary Oliver Poetry…

“My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.”

Mary Oliver

100 Names for Snow

One Hundred Names for Snow

I’ve read that the Eskimos have more than one hundred names for snow.  The Native Hawaiians have dozens of names for rainbows…..aren’t both of these facts lovely?

Snow and rainbows are so vital and important in their beauty and January Snowbowmeaning to these cultures that the people’s awareness of the subtle nuances in each flake, or storm, or misty bow of light, creates minute distinctions.  That is sweet breathing into the moment of awareness.  That is absorbing yourself in the wonder.

In northwest Montana we have myriad types of snow.  The sweetness and peacefulness of snowfall and the aftermath of serenity are wondrous to me.  I never get tired of snow.  I certainly appreciate how having the snow lay its beauty down in all this space under the big sky contributes greatly to its gorgeousness.  (Not so fun when it’s compacted into cities where plows and car exhaust quickly make it a burden and an ugly nuisance).

But not so here.

With the short days of winter, abundant fires in the hearth, and full days of snowfall, introspection comes easily.

This is the time of inner workings.

Miraculous growth can grace you in a molecular moment.

Being instead of doing.  Allowing instead of trying.

Here are a few of my names for snow:

Snow Globe:  Just like you’ve shaken a tiny globe of flakes, this continuous swirl is absorbing and consuming.

Showering:  Like rain, the snow comes in a constant, powerful stream.

Wonder Flakes:  These are those huge snowflakes, softly and slowly falling, beautifully absorbing.

Fairy Dust:  Tiny, sweet whispers of snow crystals.  Like being sprinkled with fairy dust.

Powdered Sugar:  Dry, soft, quietly falling from a white sky.

Crystalized Magic:  An icy sweet mist.  When a sun shaft hits these airborne mist pellets it creates rainbows everywhere.

Pebbles:  The weatherman would call it gropple.  A little like snow hail, it’s icy and substantial.  You can hear this one falling.

Popcorn:  Large and soft, like pieces of styrofoam falling and leaving a quick layer over everything.

Baby Powder:  A talcum grace covering you with magic.

What would you name in a myriad of ways, seeing all of its preciousness?  Snow, June 10th (2)