one sad slug-chewed snowdrop

It’s almost too sad to even mention and if you don’t look closely you’d never see that one tiny snowdrop near my front door. The air smells warmer and there’s a flowering prune tree in my neighborhood. The daffodils at work are still very short though. Some years they are in full bloom by the first of March. Not this year. And snow at 1000 feet forecast for Friday night/Saturday morning. These nudges of spring help me feel more alive and more active — definitely coming out of a mental hibernation and fog. The bare branches of the maple tree make black veins against the pre-dawn colored sky in the morning when I go out to get the paper. Recently there was a crescent moon added to the tableau. It is moments like that where I can notice the natural world and feel connected, even as my work and volunteer activities continue at a fevered pitch. One of my friends offered smooth boating after this whitewater ride — she included a meal and a glass of wine and a celebration at that future idyll. My grandmother used to say, “Where there’s life, there’s hope.” Yep. There is.

Saturday night in Rockwood

Uploaded a bunch of photos, some from 2012 and some from 2004 — I’ve got this odd archival collection happening on a portable flash drive. Hard to tell if it will ever be fully IMG_3760organized. This is a locomotive in Skagway — seen through the windows of the excursion train. Interesting how the “red” building turned pink, partly because the photo was shot through the glass of a moving train, and partly because Skagway has a rustic, northern quality.

Third Nite of Word Press

It’s too much fun to play and try things out instead of paying attention to Google Search Optimization. I get the competitive streak that gaming Google can bring out in even the kindest people. We’ve explored Facebook badges, and now we’re working to backups. This keeps getting more and more interesting. It doesn’t help to be “distracted by shiny things,” though. Categorize, Categorize, Categorize.