La Niña, with her cool temperatures and regular rainfall, has made this season a not-quite-summer. It has been lush and green, in contrast to the hot, dry, bushfire season of last year, and for that I am grateful. Yet it has passed by so quickly, it all seems a bit of a blur, and an age since I have posted here.
Over the past few months I remember immersing myself in the art, spirituality and heartfelt politics of Monica Sjöö. Such an extraordinary woman!
And a close encounter with two bold butcherbirds.
It has, overall, been a summer of spiders, with webs appearing everywhere—perhaps they are holding the edges of the world together. (These photos were taken on the misty summer solstice).
I’ve also read this influential and fascinating book by Heide Goettner-Abendroth, which has given me food for thought.
As usual, summer has played havoc with my health, so I’ve needed to slow down—a practice I am still working on—and I’m going to be stepping back from online engagements for a while. I hope I’ll have some new art to show you soon, but to make that possible requires a bit of quiet cocooning so I can come back to centre once more, renewed and reenergised.
I’m expecting autumn to arrive early, though perhaps I will be wrong and some warm sunny weather will arrive before the cold does. Either way, I’m going to try to enjoy it. Even with all the uncertainty of these strange times, and my own illness to contend with, life is good.
nice to see all the things you've been up to. i was thinking EEP NOT SPIDERS YUCK until you pointed out that perhaps they are holding the world together at this point, and then i thought YES YAY SPIDERS and what a brilliant, and honestly pretty much believable idea...
ReplyDeletewe are in the throes of similar-but-different disordered weather...finally got a bit of snow (briefly) and then an ice storm which made everything look like fairyland for a couple of days, but led to a day or so of random crashing big branches and whole trees, at times, which is a little unsettling, especially as one holds breath each time hoping that they will not hit the house. but we at least emerged unscathed. and now it's just mildly chill and damp--early spring-like---and makes one achey.
i felt such fellow feeling for that little snail. :)
Most of the spiders have been the smallish, not very scary, web-weaving type, who don't come inside, and I can happily live with them (though I do walk through invisible lines of web quite regularly, which is never very pleasant).
DeleteI'm glad you've emerged safely from your intense winter weather.
That snail was almost translucent, and so fragile-looking. But it was clear she knew where she was headed.