I've been doing a bit of felting, even went back to knitting a bit, some weaving and scrapbooking my three year old grandson's two years worth of pictures. Phew!
Here is a writing, I guess you would call it that, I did in September of 2007. As background, in our backyard, we have a bittersweet tree. It blew in - well, not the whole tree of course. It's been growing like an unplucked weed. I think it's incredible how a seed found it's way into our townhouse backyard and has become the main focal point. I do call it, Mrs. Bittersweet. The tendrils that come out, I call her Sisters. Here they are: oh, and there's Buster!
"Under the bittersweet, in the shadows, is a haven of cover. I wish I could crawl in and look out at the yard - a different perspective.
I would sit in the dirt, rest up against the fence, and let the morning continue. I would not be seen and I'd see all.
If I sat very still, maybe I would become one with the vines, the mulch and the debris of fallen leaves.
When the wind would blow, the sun would play through the leaves. Soon the berries will become orange, then red - autumn, cool.
This is where 'd like to be - under the bittersweet tree."