Tradition

Recently I celebrated another birthday. For the last couple of years I have gone for a winter hike on my big day. You could say it has become tradition. Winter hikes are rather:

Simple
Exquisite
Bright
Crisp
Quiet
Hidden
Magical
Refreshing
Surprising
Devoid of Color
& Full of Color

All at the same time

It is a good way for me to connect with the land, tap into my heart, and forge a new path forward. It always leaves me feeling hopeful and whole.

Trees stand naked and vulnerable, the land cloaked by snow. And soon I begin to see things differently. It lends itself well to thought and reflection. These are some of my thoughts expressed through images. I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I did...

Hanging on.

                               Looking Back & Moving Forward

 

Hidden Tree house

 

 

Sunshine & Shadows

A seed of hope.
Delicate,

Resilient.

 

 

 

Seedlings casting magic in the sunlight

 

 

Evidence of the Fall

Patterns in an old stump                                                 Seeds, Light, & Branches

 

Familiar Peaks

& Valleys

 

Looking afar off

 

Finding beauty in the Details

 

 

Water Dragon

 

 

 

Love Notes in the snow...

 

from the woman who gave me life

Springtime in Utah

Last weekend my roommate and I rode our bikes down to the local greenhouse so we could dream about our yard in the upcoming summer months. On the way home we started talking about the lovely spring green that was abundantly sprouting up along the side of the road. That vibrant green color which is so fleeting in Utah. I appreciate it more after a long, cold winter.

I noted the traces of winter still mixed in with the new growing things. Old dry leaves, some of them turned to lace; brown bushes and such. And it made me think about re-growth in my own life. I've been through a few rough patches, just like anybody else. Moments when hope and growth and new things seemed but a luxury I could no longer afford. But thankfully, always, new things appear in sometimes unexpected places. New people to meet, new laughter to create, new places to see and smell and enjoy. Those things that feel like splashes of fresh spring green after a long winter of absence. It takes time to allow things to re-grow and blossom and fill in the winter gaps but life can still be beautiful in the meantime. That realization, though simple, makes me feel like I can be more patient with myself and more patient with life in general.

Anyone that has spent some time in Utah knows that springtime is a bit of a tease. One day you feel like you're well on your way to summer and the next you're throwing on a coat and drinking hot chocolate again. So I can be a little more patient with the traces of "winter" that surface in my own life from time to time. It reminded me of an article written by Jerry Johnston that so adequately captured those feelings of desolation we all face at one time or another and why we can always look forward with hope. You can read his article here

In the meantime I'm going to hop on my bike and fill my soul with another deep draught of fresh spring green.