SEPTEMBER 9.1

          Monday. Already, I am looking forward to Friday. It's a modern world work view, I think, this desire to get through the work week as fast as possible in order to luxuriate in TWO WHOLE days to do exciting or relaxing or pleasurable things. This past weekend, we spent a considerable amount of our free time harvesting things from the garden - beans, kale, swiss chard, peas, tomatoes (the tomatoes are an ongoing project for the next few weeks). Not exciting and certainly not relaxing, but gratifying in a way that is difficult to describe. Hey, ho, off to work I go - or I'd best get ready. Never been much of a Monday fan. (Forgot to mention the cabbages which are awe-inspiring. Truly.)

SEPTEMBER 6.1

Wordless, today.

SEPTEMBER 5.1

             This morning I took the camera out to the garden and shot photos of sunflowers staring into the sun. They are yellow and red bursts of colour on stems that are taller than I am. They look into the light and move their heads from east to west as the sun moves across the sky. Hence, the word 'sun'flowers although a more apt term would be sun'followers'. I'm a sun follower, too. I love the light this morning. I am surrounded by blue sky and something Septemberish about the way leaves have suddenly curled themselves into hues that are yellow and amber. Enough said.

Untitled

THUS, BLOGGING BEGINS.

SEPTEMBER 4. 1.  

            I'm a wanna be writer who is going to try blogging. Are the two synonymous? I suspect that the difference is that I could write on paper, or a computer, and never show anyone what I've written whereas the concept of blogging, I think, suggests making one's babbling accessible to a more public audience. Thus, the concept of audience alters what I write. Maybe. Or maybe not. It's comforting to realize that there is still lots of stuff to figure out. 

SEPTEMBER 4.2

A photo that I like:

               This is me. I'm in my red kayak on a remote lake. It's dusk. We're camping on that island behind my head. Actually, that's not exactly how I think about that island - it's more like it's a place inside my head, inside my sense of self. I called the photo album of this camping trip "Falling off the Map". This lake is a sanctuary; it's the lake I dream about all winter. It's solitude and loons and drifting and fishing. I am not alone in this place - Hugh took the photo and I believe that he feels the same way about being 'alone together' on this particular lake. 

            One morning, a couple of summers ago, he took some amazing pictures of a young bull moose (I'll post one now). 

Into the Sunset