Hope 27

Hope 27

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

This.

 In the middle of nowhere. 

Growing, thriving, Nature persists, no matter what.

In this quiet time, we could learn to intervene less and appreciate more.

One person's weed is another person's bouquet.

Let it be.

Hope 26

Hope 26

Oil on Wood

6"X 6"

 A memory of this moment in time. From California with Love. 

Happy Birthday, my dear friend, Em.

Hope 25

Hope 25

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

The novelty of the Coronavirus has worn off. Tempers are short. I miss my friends and family. Virtual reality is not the same as real reality, And the worldwide suffering is staggering and sad and a constant reminder to remain vigilant. It is hard to stay positive.

Thank goodness for the Spring show that Nature has been putting on.

Seeing these poppies hiding in the tall grass on my jog this morning was as thrilling as finding a hidden Easter Egg. It felt like a gift.

We spent the last half hour this evening watching 2 lizards on the patio chasing each other round and round in what looked like a mating dance. It was as entertaining as a well choreographed ballet.  (Speaking of which, watch The Paris Ballet perform from their homes. "Beautiful and moving," as my friend who recommended it said. It is guaranteed to lift you up. 

 We are lucky to be living in this natural refuge. We are lucky to be living, for that matter. I am trying to keep that perspective front and center.

Hope 24

Hope 24

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Morning encounter. We share this lovely refuge.

Hope 23

Hope 23

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Sonoma is heating up. Bring on the lizards. I could spend the entire day just watching them go about their busy lives. The way they move, the way they stand perfectly still, the way they lift their body up and down, the way they look around,  big ones tiny ones. What's not to love?

They were here before we were, and no doubt, will be here long after we are gone. Thank goodness for that.

Hope 22

Hope 22

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

The Lupines are making a comeback. 

Hope 21

Hope 21

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

I took a little field trip around to the other side of the hill this morning to see the old homestead and an old friend, albeit at a healthy distance. The land has healed from the October 2017 firestorm. New growth is everywhere. Poppies, lupin, oaks, firs, plums, redwoods, bamboo, even wisteria have taken root again, some sprouting from burned stumps, others coming up in new locations. 

Life goes on. Miraculously.

On the way home I passed the Maple Ring where a few horses grazed, oblivious to the mayhem that has us in its grasp. What a relief to see a lovely mammal just going about the business of living. 

That's what I call living it up.

Hope 20

Hope 20

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

The last daffodil to bloom is pure white. It sits along the road almost hidden in a sea of tall grasses, some might call weeds. It takes my breath away every time I jog by. So bright,  beautiful, elegant, and surprising. A simple gift alive and thriving in the middle of nowhere. Makes my day.

Hope 19

Hope 19

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

The amazing thing about California poppies is how the petals open up a little more each day, closing tight at night. I have been watching this one we picked on Easter. Unfold, fold, unfold, fold.  One wild flower in a yellow Heath vase, lighting up the whole room. Simple pleasures. Name of the game.

Hope 18

Hope 18

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Another firestorm survivor, this fir, favorite meeting place for the bluebirds who nest in our birdhouse. Where would they be without this tree?

And where would we be without them?

Glad to Be Here Now, as they say.

Hope 17

Hope 17

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

This redwood came to us in a 5 gallon pot 12 years ago to be our Christmas tree.  That spring, our friend, Dick, helped plant it in the ground. The deer rubbed their antlers on it, creating a gap in growth that made it misshapen but it grew and grew. It thrived through draughts that took many of the other redwoods planted at the same time. We came to think of it as a magic tree, and our friend, Dick, took a decidedly proprietary interest in its prowess.

All the redwoods, all the manzanitas, most of the firs, and many of the oaks burned in the October 2017 firestorm.

But this redwood remains. Miraculous. 

Hope 16

Hope 16

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

I am connecting with friends and family, maybe more than ever. But it isn't the same as being in their presence. We have everything we need. We can make do with less. But I miss being carefree.

Loss is all around, and sadness is in the air.

But.
The sky is blue, clouds float by, the birds are singing, the deer family just ambled by. And. The Wedding Tree in the middle of meadow is full of bright green leaves.  I appreciate Nature's resilience today, more than ever. 

Happy Easter.

Hope 15

Hope 15

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

The birds and the bees. Well, mostly just birds, are busy. They are singing and flying and darting from tree to tree. This fir, unlikely survivor of the firestorm, is their favorite perch. We sit in awe and watch as they get their bird's eye view of the meadow before taking off to catch a morsel to feed the babies in the birdhouse, or just to fly off and return for another look around.  It is a little miracle that plays out multiple times every day. And it is cause for celebration every time.

Hope 14

Hope 14

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

We are small, in the great scheme of things. It is good to remember that at times like these.

I am just glad to be here. 

Still.

Hope 13

Hope 13

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

It took most of the morning to mix the beautiful colors in Marjory Garrison's Instagram "Findings" photo of seed pods, an assignment I had given myself a few days ago.  I used them to paint my morning jog through the Rossi vineyard which takes me right back to my childhood walk with my father along Lawndale Road. This is a nostalgic time. I feel my parents' presence and it is profoundly comforting.

Hope 12

Hope 12

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Dramatic dark skies, welcome rain, and light are coming and going. Fourteen years ago, this was a tiny oak, in the shadow of a grand old oak around which we built our house. The big oak burned in the 2017 fire. Now this tree has become central to our view. Growing, thriving, and a symbol of survival. After the fire, we thought all was lost. Not so. 

Thankfully, our family members  take turns being down. Today I am feeling optimistic, while others are at their wits end. Light and dark. Coming and going. Up and down. We can do this. We have resolve. All will not be lost.

Hope 11

Hope 11

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Sleep helps. As does a morning jog to the road, a Zoom gathering of our First Friday breakfast group, bright sunshine, a flock of deer in the afternoon, and more poppies.  Oh, the California poppies!

I am following Mother Nature's lead. 

Life goes on.

Hope 10

Hope 10

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

We are all feeling low today. There is sadness everywhere, and no end in sight.

But. 

This morning four turkey toms were strutting around all puffed up, showing their stuff.

Two healthy Coyotes pranced up the hill.

Birds are singing their little fast-beating hearts out.

And.

The Wedding tree (so named because we celebrated our daughter's wedding under it on a warm August night seven years ago.) continues to leaf out so far surviving the 2017 fire.

So.

I am taking my cues from Mother Nature.

Yes We Can.

Hope 9

Hope 9

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Poppies are popping up everywhere.

And there is a perfect half moon up in the midday sky.

That's the good news.

We all know the bad news. And this is hard.