Happy New Year!

New beginnings. And a fresh restart to this blog. It was begun originally as a chronicle of a difficult time in my life (see earlier posts) but now I feel it’s correct to cast off its black template, change its focus and expand its purpose. Shifting its focus from just my home and garden and the life parallels contained therein and expanding its purpose and scope to cover many more of my activities: art, design, photography, writing, garden and home. Observations, inspirations and useful information is what I hope to communicate.

Stargazing


A time for looking around, looking out, looking upward.

The garden is a good place to do this. For the last week, a small patch of lilies has been promising to bloom. I assumed from the shape that they were Regal Lilies, and greatly anticipated their appearance. What a surprise yesterday morning to discover they were instead the glorious, heavenly-scented, perfectly-shaped Stargazer Lilies.


Four of them are doing their best in the upper front garden to show off as many blooms as their slender stems will hold. I am enthralled. Stargazers have flirted their way to the top end of my autumn planting list. Created in 1978 by a Mr. Leslie Woodriff, their sky-facing blooms inspired their name. Kudos to him.


A few weeks ago, I indulged myself by placing a silver glass gazing globe in one of the old stumps in the garden. In it, all things above, below and around are reflected, creating a new and unflinching perspective.


The house is not far from Lake Washington, and occasionally seaplanes pass over, returning from the San Juan Islands, near where my Dad had his boat, The Bluebird, moored. I spent his last Father’s Day with him and he talked about wishing there’d been a way for him to have a boat again, even in land-locked Utah. He was never one to have regrets, or to think of his own interests first, but he loved being on the water, possibly as much as he loved flying.

I wish you smooth sailing, Daddy.

Messages in the Sky


Many people have said to me recently that when someone you loves passes away, they stay around awhile to make sure those they love are going to be okay. There is comfort in that, and I’m not alone in having experienced amazing weather phenomena shortly after losing someone. (The day my dear friend, the artist Susie Wynne, died suddenly three years ago, the most brilliant, awe-inspiring, scarlet sunset painted the heavens. And as we arrived home from the service for my step-father nine years ago, a sodden sky cleared and a glorious rainbow arched above the house where he’d been so happy with my mother. I photographed those events as evidence that it wasn’t my imagination.)


In these past days following my Dad’s passing, I’ve chronicled the skies above my house and garden, including the dappled clouds, top, and this gently beautiful sunrise taken from my bedroom window a few mornings ago.

A friend of mine is reminded of his parents by sunsets. I’ve found that dawn is the time of day I never miss.

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Some days are pretty good, and some not so good, and on the not so good ones, I sit here in my zero gravity chair and watch the sky.


And meanwhile, the garden continues to change. It’s been raining for a few days, so I’ll share some shots from last week. This is a close up of the flower of a “hosta”, a large-leafed, shade-loving plant that sends up these lovely blossoms.


Cherries from our tree, before the birds ate them all. Oh well, we can get them at the store and the birds can’t.


Another recent, and more intensely dramatic, sunrise taken from the bedroom.

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