end-of-winter thoughts.

Dynamics between beauty and danger in winter landscapes.

Shimmering wonderlands contain low temperatures often not conducive to human life.

This sublimity is also seen in fog; within expansive whiteness, I am able to hide, but I may also be hopelessly lost. (Reminds me of Ken Kesey's Chief Bromden.)

Humans, weather, nature, metaphor, subjectivity. The way a human responds to nature reveals the nature of the human. Landscapes can be translated through the lens of the self.

Nature and humans are not two disparate things.

swans.

One winter month is left.

 

I am here to dust off this blog a bit, and will update more regularly as I begin to thaw.

This week I will plant seeds in the garden. I hope my world will bloom in parallel. This year feels very important, but also precarious. Transformation will not come easily.

“Gardens are not made by singing “Oh, how beautiful!” and sitting in the shade.”
— Rudyard Kipling

long shadows.

The best is cool wind in ambient heat – a signifier of autumn.

 

Seasonal shifts affect the mind in dramatic ways; I am a different person in September than I am in June. This month I will write more, and think more, and fixate. I will become the forest floor.

 

Exploration of both land and self will define and punctuate this time, for me. These events will likely happen simultaneously, and involve wooden instruments like pencils and guitars.

 

The video at the end of this post is my new favorite thing – one of the most beautiful captured moments I have seen and heard in a long time. Let us too go sit by a lake, singing and strumming in the low and golden sunlight, as green becomes red.