Climbing Mountains (New poem by Polly Castor)
Spirit does not labor to ascend a high elevation, nor does it even notice a change in atmosphere.
Spirit does not labor to ascend a high elevation, nor does it even notice a change in atmosphere.
There were lots of monarchs and other butterflies on Monhegan and it was delightful to spend a beautiful day with them painting them, watching them flit around and gulp down nectar for their migration from the lovely gardens there.
I want to remember us this way—late September sun streaming through the window, bread loaves and golden bunches of grapes on the table, spoonfuls of hot soup rising to our lips, filling us with what endures.
This is an atmospheric, engrossing, immersive read set in Mississippi during the depression.
As summer turns into fall, color will be king and I still try to focus a bit on what is compelling beyond that.
Reading the book above, reminded me of these four books of his (shown below) that I also loved and highly recommend.
That’s the armor everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose
in the world.
This is yummy and a great way to use up those tomatoes still burgeoning in the garden.
Done in September colors, this was painted in plein air on Monhegan Island in Maine, of a place just past Christmas Cove.
In this post, you can see our meals together and the loving supportive atmosphere we share with each other.
We had a great time, hiking, eating, hanging out, playing, laughing, and painting together.
The most successful experts also belong to the wider world. … it appears as though they are scattering and dissipating their energies, while in reality they are channeling and strengthening them
As I was standing there in the sun drenched gas station parking lot, the hiss and tick of the air pump sounded very much like a psalm.
Going to the farmer’s market is a highlight of our week and I can’t recommend it highly enough.
I continue to traipse this land most days. Here it is in it’s late summer mood, yellowing tinges coming into the green.
This lyrical, but grounded, literary nonfiction about shepherding is about being in relation to the land, but also to a daughter and a mother.
I have just rearranged my plein air pastel box for my painting trip to Monhegan Island in Maine.