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A chilly Saturday in spring

Rooted on the dunes. (Cape Henlopen, Delaware.)

We have little needs and we have deeper needs.

We have fallen into the mistake of living from our little needs til we have almost lost our deeper needs in a kind of madness. Let us prepare now for the death of our present little life and the re-emergence in a bigger life in touch with the moving cosmos. It is a question practically of relationship. We must get back into relation, vivid and nourishing relationship to the cosmos and the universe. The way is through daily ritual and re-awakening. We must once more practice the rituals of dawn and noon and sunset, the ritual of kindling fire and pouring water, the ritual of the first breath and the last. To these rituals we must return or we must evolve them to suit our needs. For the truth is we are perishing for the lack of fulfillment of our greater needs. We are cut off from the great sources of our inward nourishment and renewal, sources which flow eternally in the universe.

Vitally, the human race is dying. It is like a great uprooted tree with its roots in the air. We must plant ourselves again in the universe.

~ D. H. Lawrence


Inscendence:   the impulse not to rise above the world (transcendence) but to climb into it, seek its core.

~ Thomas Berry (by way of Robert MacFarlane)

Going inwards.

I write blog posts in my head.  Then I forget about them after a few days of not moving them from the head to the page.  I have days when I wonder if I should shut this thing down.  Or leave it open but finally announce that it’s not something I want to do anymore.  As soon as the “not anymore” thought enters my head, I sit down to write because that’s how the human brain works.  It doesn’t like the idea of “not anymore.”  And honestly, neither do I.  I’ve been at this blogging thing for a long time.  I’m not sure I really, truly want to give it up.  I certainly would miss the community.  There is something special here, with you all, that doesn’t seem to carry over to social media (Instagram being the one place I still frequent when I go to social media).

Do I start all of my infrequent blog posts this way lately?  I suppose I do.  That must be terribly boring.  I will try to do better in the future.

Periwinkles in the cemetery.

It snowed this morning.  Briefly.  Snowflakes flying in between the raindrops.  There is a gale warning.  Just a few days ago I was ready to turn on the air conditioning.  It was warm and muggy.  Hints of the summer to come.  The warmth will be returning on Thursday.  Before that happens we’ll be dipping back down in the 20’s (F) for our lows over the next few nights.  Spring and winter are doing a back-and-forth, and eventually it will just become summer.  Spring never lasts very long in these parts.  You have to get out and enjoy it as much as possible because things change so quickly.


It’s been a lovely, quiet, peaceful morning.  Beethoven, the Mockingbird, started things off by singing some of his repertoire.  Beethoven’s songs are a wonderful alarm clock and way to wake in the mornings.  He sits on the roof of the house, just outside of the spare bedroom (which is near the “office” where I write my blog posts).  Sometimes I sleep in the spare bedroom — for various reasons, one of which is my own tossing and turning and not wanting to keep M awake when I can’t sleep — and it’s lovely to wake up to Beethoven’s songs.  He sings again in the evening, just before retiring.  And, as I found out while on my walk yesterday, he is now practicing his songs throughout the day.

A slab of stone, flowers as stars.

Izzy Cat and I rolled around on the floor, doing our yoga and meditation practices just after Beethoven woke us up.  I put this on and we listened while we did our practice (if you have time, please go listen; it’s beautiful).  I might use it again during my yoga practice a few more times.  There was something about the music that made me feel that sense of inscendence, a word I just learned this morning.  I think I’d much rather work on inscendence these days than transcendence.  Dig in, find the core, bury deep.


There was something I was going to babble on and on about, but I’ve forgotten what it was.  Just as well.  My theme for today is Listening.  Babbling is not listening.

Oh, wait.  I remember what it was.  Something about liminal time, the in-between, the going from one big number to another when it comes to goals.  For instance, it seems like it’s taking forever to go from a day 500 to a day 600 in my 1,000 Days Project (it is currently day 567).  And yet, going from 1 to 500 feels like it went by fast.  Weird how time does that.  (Have I mentioned my 1,000 Days Project?  Yes?  No?  I don’t remember.  The goal of it is to do my yoga practice for 1,000 days.  I was already well into it by the time I decided to call it a project.  I borrowed the idea from Meghan Genge.   I think I must have mentioned it sometime in the past because I remember linking to her site.)

A big gun. A big shell.

I went to Cape Henlopen up in Delaware for a bicycle ride on Monday.  It was a beautiful blue-sky spring day and the park was almost empty.  It was kind of strange to wander around among the batteries and bunkers and large guns they have placed there while the war in Ukraine rages on.  Cape Henlopen was one of the first parcels of public lands established in what would become the U.S.  In 1682, William Penn declared that the land would be for the usage of the citizens of the area.  The cape has been a strategic location throughout our wars (the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, World War I, and World War II).  Fort Miles was built there during WWII along with a bunch of observation towers, bunkers, and a pier.  They have placed some large guns there as part of the Fort Miles Museum and Historical area.  During the Cold War, Fort Miles shifted to classified missions of watching for and defending against Soviet submarines.

Forsythia in bloom.

Here on the Wabi-Sabi Ranch, things are growing and blooming and leafing.  I’ve had to do the first mow of the season and from the looks of things, I’ll be mowing again soon.  The grass grows quickly.  We have seeds started for the vegetable garden, and I’ll be clearing out the flower garden soon, readying it for this year’s flowers.  Zinnias.  Always zinnias.  I know they’ll grow there and they are low maintenance, a good thing for this lazy gardener.

Spring yellow.

I’m still writing, painting, drawing, and art journaling.  It keeps me busy and out of trouble.  I also find those things to be restful.  I’ve been thinking a lot about rest lately.  What is restful?  What is work?  What is a good balance between the two?

It’s redbud season.

I am planning a quick trip to NE Ohio in April.  After that, I think I’ll be settled here for a while, gardening, mowing, drawing, painting, writing, and all the other things that fill my days.  There might be a trip to the Columbus, Ohio area in May.  We’ll see how things are going in terms of schedules and the pandemic.  Oh right.  We’re ignoring that now.  No pandemic to see here, folks.  I would like that to be true.  But I still wear a mask while indoors in public spaces (which I don’t frequent often).

A Carolina Wren pondering the meaning of life. Or maybe he’s just pondering where he wants to build a nest in the barn.

I suppose that’s about it from me and from the Wabi-Sabi Ranch on this chilly Saturday.  Thank you so much for dropping by and visiting with me.  Let’s meet out at the Point for sunset this evening.  We have had some beautiful sunsets lately thanks to all the clouds that have been blowing through.  Sunset is scheduled for 7:20 PM.  Bundle up.  It’s cold out there by the water.

Please stay safe, stay well, and stay kind.  ♥

The redbud blossoms look like miniature orchids to me.

A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy:  1,981)  Warm shelter and clothing on chilly days.  1,982)  Redbud trees and their blossoms.  1,983)  Morning bird songs.  1,984)  Music and dancing and singing and chanting.  1,985)  Learning new words.  Especially the word inscendence.  What a beautiful word.

Traveling the web.


Robin is... too many things to list, but here is a start: an artist and writer; a photographer and saunterer; a daughter and sister and granddaughter; a friend, a partner, a wife, a mother, and a grandmother; a gardener, a great and imaginative cook, and the creator of wonderful sandwiches.

29 thoughts on “A chilly Saturday in spring

  1. Hello Robin! Amazing sounds in the piece! For me, I can fall into that all or nothing thinking. The idea that I have to decide, between the only two options my thinking provides. I DO learn over and over that I do not know what I do not know, and yet, I can continue to try to choose, all or nothing style. I over look at what I do, eating the joy out of it. I can come up with a practice, and experience joy from it. I tend to ignore lol the in between I GET from all of it. Of course, it’s all about me. (Eyeroll) I have noted that why I do what I do, changes. Then I staple it with an AH HA! I’ve got it now (i have arrived!!) and then…it all changes again.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi, Elisa. 🙂 Thank you so much! I laughed while reading some of your comment. Ah ha, indeed, and yes!. I am the same, falling into all or nothing and forgetting to enjoy the in-between. Every now and then I do stop and remember to be here, now. I have to keep reminding myself that there is no arriving (unless that’s what death happens to be but that’s something I can’t know until I get there). As you wrote, it all changes again. There are times — in yoga practice or meditation, when I’m walking or drawing or writing — when I am in it, in what I’m doing, without the over looking or analyzing or whatever it is the mind wants to do. I wonder what it would be like to live in that space most of the time?


      1. For me the Divine ‘will’ decides that, inspiration decides that. I cannot believe I just said that! Don’t tell anyone! Haha
        I don’t have the words, however…
        Well, I get bored, I forget, gratitude leaves, I get to the Is this all there is, and so for ME being in it ALL the time, is simply a new old idea. OH! I used the piece Eden from that artist you posted yesterday, Hania, for the Morning Trip today.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Ohhhh look at your flowers. We had snow on the ground this morning. Katie loved it. But I am drawn to all the color in your world at the moment. And the first image of that dune and tree? I immediately thought…great spot for night photography! I guess you can see where my mind is these days!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m not sure it would be a good spot for that, Dawn. There might be a lot of light pollution from New Jersey (which is just across the bay) and even from Lewes (Delaware), the town nearby. But I could be wrong. I’ve never been out in that area at night. I should check it out someday.

      Hello to Katie and your snow. I would imagine you are very tired of winter by now but judging by your herons, spring is on the way. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. There’s a cool website: that shows you light pollution, measured in bortels (might have spelled that wrong)…it opens over Europe, but you can move over to the states and zoom in and see what bortal (bortel?) any area is. 1 is darkest sky, 9 (I think 9) is most polluted. I am living in a 5, and can get to a 4 fairly quickly. Have to go way up north to get to a 2 and even further to get to a 1.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. I have starting creating a container garden on the patio outside my door. We’re getting some color from daffodils forsythias, ornamental trees, and soon there will be tulips. It’s spring and I’m loving it.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I’ve been thinking about a container garden for herbs, Carol. Seems to me it would be so much easier than having to weed a bigger space. I’m very lazy about weeding so they generally take over. Thank goodness M is a good gardener. He grows the veggies around here. I’m glad to hear it’s spring in your area and that you’re enjoying it. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Beautiful photos are your hallmark, Robin, always a joy to see. It’s nice to see green grass and flowering shrubs. We’re still waiting, but the early bulbs are up at least. Enjoy your spring weather while it is there and safe journeys to OH.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Eliza. 🙂 Winter returned to us over the weekend. Hard to believe it’s almost April and our lows have been in the 20’s (with highs in the 30’s).

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Beautiful photography, as always, but those redbud blossoms are exquisite. I really enjoy your blog and hope you continue with it. As for COVID, I, too, am masking in public places and am avoiding gatherings. Despite what many people might think, the darned pandemic isn’t over quite yet.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Laurie. 🙂 It’s good to hear that others are still masking. I sometimes feel like the odd (wo)man out around here. Most people have decided to give up or ignore the pandemic or maybe they were against masking in the first place.


  6. Hi Robin. It’s good to see you here whenever. 😊 Your photos are amazing–I can’t even pick a favorite because I wowwed at the first spider web photo, and then they just kept on. I played part of the music you listened to, and Ricky the Cat was on my lap and just mesmerized!
    I know what you mean about time. Last Monday morning when I was writing my musings, I kept saying to myself, “Wait, did that happen just last week?” I think March always has crazy weather, but we (or I) forget, so every year it seems particularly crazy. Snow to summer temps in one week and then back to winter again does seem extreme! Spring flowers seem very hardy; hopefully, the budding trees are, too. It’s going to be in the 20s tonight here.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Merril. 🙂 That’s a good point about March and its crazy weather. This spring feels a lot like our first spring here when it was cold and that’s how we discovered the heating system didn’t work. (It’s too bad the guy that inspected the house failed to notice that little detail.)

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Isn’t it funny how our minds (with thoughts like should I be blogging or quitting blogging) are kind of like weather. One minute it’s snowing, and the next it’s spring. Always changing. I don’t remember this happening so much in younger years, but perhaps it’s a matter of noticing. Btw, I sleep in the spare bedroom, too, when wanting to toss & turn. There’s something freeing about tossing and turning when you’re not worrying about disturbing your partner.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Our minds seem to be very much like the weather, Kathy. Especially spring weather. It’s been quite a roller coaster ride here with lots of ups and downs. I agree, too, about there being something freeing in sleeping in the spare bedroom. My tossing and turning are certainly less inhibited when I don’t have to worry about waking my partner. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Robin, periodically I ponder whether to keep blogging, too; but I know I’d miss this supportive community fiercely, and I still have things I need to say. Isn’t that something?!? Love your early Spring photos, especially the Redbud. We’re a tad behind you, but at least the snows have melted. Your spiderwebs are stunning!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Debbie. 🙂 You put that very well. I would miss this community, too, even though it seems I don’t visit as much as I used to. Something keeps drawing me back and I’m sure it is related to the people. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Breathtaking photos, as always. Dew drop covered spider webs are one of my very favorite things so it was such a treat to see a few here 🙂 Thank you for that! I hope you have a lovely week ahead!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Hi Robin. It’s always a pleasure to read your posts. I’ve struggled with the same question for several years—take it all down, or rev it back up. I’m mostly on hiatus right now.

    Take care.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are delightful and always appreciated. I will respond when I can (life is keeping me busy!), and/or come around to visit you at your place soon. Thank you!

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