An outing a day a water a snow

In the forest, the moss steams. The trees drop water into all of our eyes. The ice continues to coat the wooden bridges long after the sunlight. Dappled was made here. And we return home and the birds finally eat the bread strewn in front of the kitchen window in the empty spaces between the bare bushes.

A wet-edged month

The edges of January have been a bit rough. In waiting for them to smooth out, I've treated myself. To a wide angle lens: 10 - 20mm. We've had two dates already and I realize I've passed the point where I can use my purse as camera bag. Or maybe this means that I also need to treat myself to a new purse....

Glass half full. Glass half full.

Ready. Set.

Sometimes you need a sickness to set things right again. Forcing basics and priorities. Overtired communication is honest. A reset button.

A song that goes well with reset.

A Monday that could happen twice

A Monday worth of work that leaves you feeling more invigorated than a weekend away from work = unexpected bliss.

Shmerfect pothing

What is the perfect day. What is the perfect moment.

The less perfect I have coming at me, the more I value my reaction to less-than-perfect. In reaction is where the invisible and rooted perfection is created.

Listening to Marie-Pierre Arthur. Going for a long walk in the forest. Anticipating a hot bath and reading Monocle.

Wishing you a beautiful start to the New Year. My two words for 2011: robust and inspired.

xo,
WHP