This Morning

I stepped outside this morning to empty the compost bin. An inhale of cold air and the feel of frigid concrete on my bare feet awakened my senses before I even turned on my espresso machine. I looked up and west, momentarily stunned. There in the sky was the pale moon and beneath her two large paintbrush streaks of pink and gold clouds. Absolutely nothing more. I paused in the soft beauty of the moment, the exquisiteness of this art - this moon and cloudscape softly shaking my strength and understanding of this life. The moment was primal, native, alive. I inhaled every bit of that beauty; took it all as mine because I needed a dose of something so divine. I see you, I whispered. I see you. 

Photos from a recent trip to Glenwood Springs and Aspen.


"The doors to the world of the wild self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door." 

 -Clarissa Pinkola Estes


"We enter into a family story, and then other stories based on tribal clans, on tribal towns and nations, lands, countries, planetary systems, and universes. 
Yet we each have our own individual soul story to tend. "  

-Joy Harjo, Crazy Brave