all there is

 November fog is my favourite. It holds you close in a comforting embrace. Far away is forgotten. Nearby is all there is.

dust

Sun shining through the living room window doesn't mince words. 

It looks you right in the eye and says what must be said. 

"Dust!"

along the river

 

We followed a path along the river yesterday, certain that around the bend would be a trail leading down to the sandy shore. We followed a path along the river with our eyes ahead on the next bend, and then the next. We followed a path and followed a path and followed until very suddenly and unexpectedly, there was no path at all, and twinkling through the trees was the expanse of river. Not a grain of sand or shore in sight. 

The day seemed warmer, the path dustier and longer. Back we trudged. Back and back we trudged. And there, at the beginning, the grassy verge tipped over the sandy bank, down to hard packed shore and then mud flats along the river. 

Every wild animal that lives in B.C. had left its prints in the sand and we added our own.

xoxo

 

twice as nice

 If crocheting with one color is pretty, two is twice as nice.

she asked

 She asked for a bucket hat, green and goggle-eyed.

Elphie

One afternoon I had a yen to create a tiny elephant. He stitched up lickety split.

 A pair of patched pants seemed called for and there he was, little Elphie.

 

But isn't a friend a wonderful thing?