"near the hub of the miracle that everything / is a part of..."

this is what i wore on the delicious may day that was sunday.

another piece from my newly thrifted collection of western regalia, actually two pieces: blouse and skirt.

and the day was fine and cool and sunny with poofy white clouds and i explored with my cat

and found a bird's nest full of tiniest baby bluejays in my camellia bush.

(don't worry, daphne the cat missed out on this discovery)

almost otherworldly in their strange vulnerability,

while mama watched nervously from a nearby tree, flying reassuringly back into the camellia bush everytime i walked away. can you see her?

and i read my new favorite, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard.

mind achingly beautiful words...

while my own mama made fresh buttery crumbly heart-shaped biscuits with her sweetheart in the kitchen:

and she also made an old family favorite, texas hash (she makes it with soy crumbles now!) and homemade gooey brownies with pecans, and a delicious salad.

all in all, a dreamy day.

then today...i explored again; went out looking for a barn or country building to do our photo shoot tomorrow.

we were planning a gorgeous outdoor photo shoot at the river with lots of lovely friends for models,

but it looks like we're getting rained out.

so we romped through the hillsides in search of abandoned stone or brick buildings or old wooden barns.

and i fell in love (like always, again and again) with these hillocks and dales,

hidden nooks and creekbeds and vines and fig trees,

oak and sky and iris and pine,

rows and rows of greening apple trees...

so i have to leave you with a poem by one of my favorites, Mary Oliver. have i written about her before? anyway you probably all already own her books because they are that good and she's well-loved.

something lovely:

May

May, and among the miles of leafing

blossoms storm out of darkness--

windflowers and moccasin flowers. The bees

dive into them and I too, to gather

their spiritual honey. Mute and meek, yet theirs

is the deepest certainty that this existence too --

this sense of well-being, the flourishing

of the physical body -- rides

near the hub of the miracle that everything

is a part of, is as good

as a poem or a prayer, can also make

luminous any dark place on earth.