a thin white gold band

It was a very shinny washer, very shinny indeed, and it had some odd wear patterns on it. As I looked at it further, and then took it out into the light, I realized I was holding a wedding ring, a thin white gold band, with a lifetime of wear.
A wedding ring is a powerful symbol, and I wondered how a woman's wedding ring got into a box of junk bought at auction.Trying to trace it's owner was , I was told, impossible and that it could have been in that box for over 10 years.

and it's really cold

I love this old photo, I'm quite sure that it was taken in March, mostly because I say so.
March, and I can feel the sap rising and the sun is warm on my face, even thought today is in the single digits the sun gleams and as my Dad would say, "Cheer-up! Brighter days are coming!"
The prickly pear cactus is melting out of it's snowdrift, amazing that it will survive at all in this climate, even blooming most years.
The crystals that hang in the windows don't send out as many rainbows. Easily the best thing about winter was watching those rainbows dance across the walls caused by the low angle of the winter sun.
Even though winter is far from over, it is that first take that giddy knowledge, that one will soon be free of heavy clothing , snow shovel and ice scrapers.
And I like that.

One moment in time

Photography fascinates me, I have a number of cameras and am only without one when the best photographic subjects appear. As a child I would sit for hours, looking at old photo albums, curious about every detail, and delighted when I recognized a familiar person or object. I would and still do think about the people who's lives were captured for one moment in time. Ever changing time.
These are powerful little pieces of paper, they hold not only and accurate record of the physical world, but they are windows for our curiosity and imagination.

snowglobes and daydreams

Snowglobes are beautiful, and today I feel like I am living in one.
Winter is my least favorite season, because of the recent thaw a few patched of green grass were visible, seed catalogs arrive, and mentions are made of spring in the media...... I am not a happy camper, there was fresh snow on the ground when I woke. I was wondering if this is how a bear feels when they emerge to early from their hibernation, and I understand why they are such unpredictable and often surly creatures, its post traumatic stress
The snow swirls around the house, howling and whistling in the chimneys, the ground and sky meet in a cloud of large white flakes that obscures the horizon. Gradually the outlines of the spruce and pines emerge only to be hidden by another swirl of snow. One of those days when I could easily drift off to another time and place

Candle moon

last night the candle moon shown through the thick layer of clounds and tangle of branches like a distant candle, it was already a waning moon when it first became visible above the Norway spruce and maples.



February's full moon has other names , the Hungry Moon and the Wolf Moon, but all of it's names tell me that even our ancestors found the month with the least number of days to be the longest month of the year. I wondered if they were still telling stories around the hearthfire , while the eves dripped from an early thaw or the wind howled during a fierce storm, perhaps a heavy wet snow was falling and everyone sat wide eyed and still. Did they tell stories to take thier minds of thier hunger, or the hunger of the prowling wolves. Or if they had given up and just gone to sleep. Perhaps they looked for signs of spring.

I climbed Mount Jewett

I usually don't open forwards, but I did accidentally open this one! That in itself proves there are no accidents.
First of all Mount Jewett is a town, but it is on the top of a hill. A one time thriving village, little is left of it, like many small towns it is melting slowly into the forest it was once carved from.
This photo was taken there, and has been circulating ever since.
One can still buy a T-shirt at the yearly Swedish festival, that says "I climbed Mount Jewett".
Or one can see the remains of the Kinzua Viaduct, a once mighty railroad bridge, standing 301 feet above the valley floor, but that is another post.
Or you can travel a couple miles out of town and see the Bridgeview cemetery, where the image of the viaduct is carved on to several headstones, this was also an excellent point to view the viaduct in its entirety, before it was brought down by a possible tornado. Off in the corner of this cemetary are several above ground graves marking the final resting place of families of Serbo-Croations who escaped war only to be claimed by the Influenza outbreak, and ironic immortality.

Where was I

It has been too long, much too long.
But i just had nothing I wanted to say, I had plenty to say, I always do, but nothing I wanted to write about.
I watched my woods fill up with snow,
I listened for the owls who reamained silent
I decorated for 3 holidays and took the decorations down, each time remembering
I watched the moon wax and wane, in the seldom clear skys
I hibernated.
The groundhog was rousted from his slumber and I have no idea how he ever saw his shadow!!!
Unless of course we count the glare of TV lights, which make an artficial shadow.....that would be a sad comment.
Something has rousted me from mine....for now lets hope it is an early spring.