letting go . . .

i imagined their long bare arms pushing them out into the stream . . . "go on then . . . ! "

raking the leaves

there's so much beauty down close to the ground right now . . .

crossing the line (2)

leaves drifting downstream on a bluer than blue-skied afternoon . . . 

memories emerge

raking leaves i found this little wonder. i remember the day wendy and i planted this little being . . .

there is always hope . . .

in the middle of my leaf-strewn front yard . . .

just beneath the surface

"just beneath the surface of our world lie riches"   robert fripp

dancing susans

here are all its brothers and sisters . . . 

the very deep spaces

gold leaf

well . . . big brother sun is slow to come up and over the horizon these days, so here's another kind of gold for your eyes to wake up to . . . .

fallen sumac

cycling home in the rain . . .

is more often than not, entirely worth it . . .

 

i'm not raking just yet . . . !

the steps to my front porch . . . .

happy birthday mum!

this is an image almost entirely unimaginable during my teen years (and perhaps at times after that),
but here we are - my mum and i - able to truly express our love and affection for each other
as people who have been there and more than done that … and lived to tell the tale!

what is truly wonderful is that "telling the tale" has become a matter of truth and straight upness and not so much the carefully manicured pieces of life before we finally got each other and understood much of what had gone before. now we live in the hope that we have many more years to share our stories, our joys, our struggles, our simple appreciation for a life that is so astonishing to each of us, given not only where we came from, but where we imagine we are going to.

we are each on a trajectory that sees us bringing whatever goodness we can in the time we are given to whatever and whomever crosses our paths.

happy birthday mum.

i am so deeply grateful for the goodness you taught me to look for and create in myself,
and then also for the goodness you continue to bring into this world!

with my love

steven

late afternoon . . .

looking across little lake towards my city . . .

early morning riding . . . in the rain . . .

riding in to school through the rain - an especially wet variant of rain . . .  but it makes for the loveliest colours in the puddles . . .

the trees on the other side of the river

the trees on the other side of the river made me think of a woolly caterpillar crawling along a mirror . . .

turning east

i shared the main street through my town of peterborough with a road crew and then, turning east, looked up and the skies unfurled into the most beautiful canvas . . .

leaving us

i love watching the stages of decay of leaves in the autumn . . .

thanksgiving monday

thanksgiving

today i will share thanksgiving dinner with wendy and my children. i am so grateful for the very simple wonders that have arrived in my life, not the least of which is this simple occasion of sharing food and laughter together. happy thanksgiving!

another autumnal world . . .

rounding the bay

early morning moments as i pass around "little lake" here in peterborough, on my way to school . . .

indra's web . . .

leaves and water . . .

a late afternoon crossing of the london street bridge . . .