Berlin's Whimsy

In Love.

I'm in love. With John Steinbeck. If only he were still alive (he!). No, I'm primarily enamored with his words... Words do it for me. Descriptive words that bridge my love of image with my love of reading magical words. If only I could string together precious words to create such beauty as this:

"I remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers. I remember where a toad may live and what time the birds awaken in the summer----and what trees and seasons smelled like--how people looked and walked and smelled even. The memory of odors is very rich..."

And this...

"Samuel Hamilton rode back home in a night so flooded with moonlight that the hills took on the quality of the white and dusty moon. The trees and earth moon-dry, silent and airless and dead. The shadows were black without shading and the open places white without color."  

 

And a quote:

"It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world."

~John Steinbeck

Into the Fall.

I love fall and winter. It brings out the comforting side of me (not hard to do, though): warm simmering stews, knitting up comfort in wool, games with my kids by the fire, books read in candlelight, and visions of the holidays...

Isn't fall beautiful with its fractal golden light and crisp air? 

In the past, I maintained certain fall rituals:   back-to-school routines, an annual birthday trip with my Mom, Halloween preparations, and then Thanksgiving with family...

My traditions are malleable right now: catching bits of my past and reaching for new ones, as well. What does it mean to enter into the holidays as an officially divorced family full of transition? What new traditions will we rejoice in? What do the holidays mean to 'tween aged children? Though I mourn the past still, I also look forward to new beginnings with new opportunities and my own positive outlook on life...

Playing with Veggies.

Last week, I was one of the prep cooks for a very large catered event that included pounds and pounds of organic produce donated by local farmers. Each visit to our walk-in cooler elicited surprise at the newest vegetable----they were all beautiful.

They were also very dirty. I spent three hours cleaning carrots alone. We chopped the cauliflower (pictured at the top) into bite-sized pieces and pickled them very lightly. They were delicious.

Probably my favorite part of the whole day was when the owner of the business (a very talented chef) sauteed up some of the fresh kale with currants, shallots, garlic, and balsamic vinegar and we all stood around a communal plate and ate our greens and talked.

Fall along the river.

 

My recent preoccupations subsided long enough this weekend for a walk along the river in the fall light. The setting seemed filled with a sense of preparedness----fervent birds amongst tree branches, chipmunks carrying cones in their mouths with purpose, pheasants quick to flight from a dog's intrusion.

The plants along the river are receding into their fall coat of brown and passing their seeds to the future.

The grass has lost its previous lush green but our dogs don't seem to mind.

 

I cannot help but feel mesmerized by the fall's light and its ability to make even the most mundane special.

Tart & Tiny.

We drove on my favorite mountain road this past weekend.

It's only accessible for a couple months out of the year and I don't think any summer is complete without kicking up some dust and bouncing over boulders along this road. 

We found another variety of huckleberries along the way, too. These are approximately the size of a pinhead. We were marveling at their tiny size when my Mom added that she picked enough for a pie one time! My kids were amazed at that idea. So was I.

The Last Day.

Has it come to an end so soon? We spent our last day of summer vacation catching frogs. Catching lots and lots of frogs, and only touching a small fraction of the thousands that reside at a lake in the mountains we call "Frog Lake." (Locals, it is not the real Frog Lake, though).

It's a summer ritual to visit this little lake and watch the water dappled with tadpoles. This visit caught them in mid-turn----many of the frogs still had tails and many of the tadpoles were lounging outside of the water. It was a bit improbable.

So thick are the frogs and toads here that one can actually hear them move in unison like a wave through the grass and the tadpoles render the shoreline an inky black.

 

It was chilly today and the frogs were clumped together into little wriggling mountains, probably for warmth.

My kids laughed and screamed and tiptoed and chased and named more frogs than I can count.

Our ride home was a little subdued and we're now spending a quiet evening tonight readying ourselves for our new routines, as school begins tomorrow. I start another new job this week and my children will have their own new responsibilities, too. It's all a bit of nail-biting nervousness. 

But this week is back-to-lunchbox week for me, too, and I will share more lunchbox ideas and musings... Get ready to pack those lunchboxes!

In the Gardens.

What is the proverb, "...Life began in a Garden...?"

Perhaps. I'm not a wonderful gardener but I have aspirations. These photos are not from my own yard but I do have a quite pleasurable little space to call my own.

But these photos are a result of a recent walk with my kids. We discovered a magical park nearby with community gardens ensconced within. I couldn't help but push open the little garden gate to venture within the community garden. An amazing array of green treasure was there to greet us with flowers seemingly smiling back at our wonder at their beauty.  

We happened to come upon this garden at its bountiful peak. Little garden beds were bursting with vegetables and flowers, even leaning over into neighborhood plots. It took all my self reserve to keep from plucking one of the many plump pea pods reaching out, seemingly to tempt me.  My kids couldn't resist the hose to cool themselves off from the afternoon heat.

I was quite tempted to plop myself right smack in the middle of the garden to pass the afternoon in its colorful beauty. If it wasn't for my kids' insistence, I might still be there in a garden inflicted bliss.

Thankfully, this past weekend's yard sale-ing provided me with some tools for my own gardening...

 A little lawn cart ($3), garden tools ($5), some potted herbs ($1 each), and a vintage Gardening Book ($1). Ah, yard sales & gardens, how I love thee...

I hope to snag my own little slice of this community garden heaven come next year... Sigh.

Berries for Cobbler.

A week ago, we followed the criss crossing back roads of the mountains to a pocket of mountain huckleberries. My Mom visits this spot each year and on one occasion she shared her berry picking session with a bunch of berry engorged black bears.

On this day, my kids were tired of riding in the car and our drive was marred by "He touched me!" and "You started it!"

However, when we reached the berry patch, they were too engrossed in picking and eating berries to fight (much). My son doesn't like cooked fruit so he gathered his berries to savor fresh on the trip home. My daughter complained because she felt he wasn't contributing to our goal of gathering enough huckleberries for a cobbler. She changed her mind on the trip home, as my son shared his bag of berries with her and they plopped the berries one by one into their mouths with berry stained fingers. 

As we gathered the berries, the sun receded nearby and the whole patch was bathed in that golden glow of a mountain sunset. It was a short visit but its charm is etched in my memory----the conversations, the singing of songs from long ago, and the wonderful mountain fragrance.

And yes, we had enough berries to enjoy a huckleberry cobbler later that night. We ate it all up too fast for a photo. You'll have to believe me...

Midsummer is... Lakes and Mountain Air

High lakes with cool mountain air...

...beautiful views...

...and still snow.

A Midsummer Night's Dream.

I stand on the edge of change. Though I don't know it for fact, I feel it in my heart and I'm moving that direction... I ponder employment possibilities and an upcoming move into our own house. Stepping out into the world anew, it's what I dream about this midsummer.  

At this moment, midsummer, I'm full of these contemplations and dreams. Dreams of varying possibilities tied to circumstances. Sometimes it all seems so convoluted, like the Shakespearean play that shares this post's title. Very much unlike the play, however, my complications are devoid of romantic interests, by the way. 

In Shakespeare's A Midsummer Nights Dream, a magical flower plays a pivotal role in developing a character's love. At this point in my life, the flowers I receive come from my kids and I'm fairly certain that any magical qualities stem from the sweetness of intent for which they are given.

I receive my flowers and I place them in jars and marvel at my children's love. I also sit amongst the colors in the beds from whence the flowers come and I dream lazily in this midsummer heat-----dreams of possibilities and wondering what lies ahead for me.

**We're heading for our familiar coast for this week but I'll share some midsummer photos & thoughts all week long...