Soft mornings

There is magic in quiet mornings. Mary Oliver sums it up in one of my favorite poems, ‘Softest of Mornings’. (Okay, every poem Mary Oliver ever wrote is my favorite…)

Softest of mornings, hello.
And what will you do today, I wonder,
to my heart?
And how much honey can the heart stand, I wonder,
before it must break?

This is trivial, or nothing: a snail
climbing a trellis of leaves
and the blue trumpets of flowers.

No doubt clocks are ticking loudly
all over the world.
I don’t hear them. The snail’s pale horns
extend and wave this way and that
as her fingers-body shuffles forward, leaving behind
the silvery path of her slime.

Oh, softest of mornings, how shall I break this?
How shall I move away from the snail, and the flowers?
How shall I go on, with my introspective and ambitious life?

FOTD – January 29th (zinnias)

Here are some colorful shots of zinnias from over the summer. They’re one of my favorite flowers.

Looking through these sweet flower photos has inspired me to start an exciting new project: seed starting and building a raised bed garden behind my apartment. My lady neighbors are on board, too, so it’s going to be an all women’s community garden effort. ♀️

This year has been a real doozy, and covid will probably stick around for a bit longer. I’m really excited about creative new projects coming down the pipe. Stay tuned and here is to hoping that I don’t kill my sweet seedlings. 🌱☀️🍅