A tiny pebble, grey and perfectly round in her hand. It was a beautiful thing she found.

The same walk as always. Almost always. Sometimes she changed, but mostly it was this walk because she couldn’t resist seeing what was different on the path. There was always something different. New ferns, or wildflowers, and sometimes they were strange and interesting. A bees’ nest. Once in a while, people rearranged the path, or the rocks over the water. She needed to see.

The pebble went unnoticed until she kicked it. It tumbled into the water, that little bit of water that sometimes was a wider pool of muck. The stones to cross over it were neat, someone had fixed them, and the pebble landed near the crossing and glowed. It glowed through the water in a way it hadn’t done before. She stared.

You weren’t supposed to take things from here.

First walk in my first proper pair of hiking boots! Suddenly everything is much less slippery.

Little bits of green:

I love moss

The light wasn’t really that warm, but that’s what my memory does when everything felt good.

I left this bunny at the vet this morning to have a small surgery.

Obviously I have been crying all day.

Update: he’s gonna be okay ❤️

Spring at Work

It’s very horsey here
They seem like a miracle every year
A break in the woods
THE BOBOLINKS ARE COMING AND THEY ARE AGGRESSIVE! Also your dorky friend does not own prescription sunglasses. (Hey! WE ARE ALL DORKS ON THE INSIDE. Some of us, on the inside and the outside.) ALSO it was warm enough to take off my sweater!

Actually, I haven’t started my new job yet. Soon!

It was tonight, but first she would see her grandmother.

She stopped outside the window like always. She could see her grandmother covered in layers of quilts. Probably at least five quilts. Plus the cat.


A whisper, but it reached the old woman’s dream. Blankets shifted. Scents of lavender and sleepy skin; honeyed vanilla, that was the cat, and a breath which was barely a question, “Mmmm?” Oh, it was all the same. The moon inhaled.

Try again.

“Grandmother. Ruth.”

Two wide eyes over the edge of the quilt, and the cat was awake now, too. They stared out of the window, confused, until light dawned in her eyes. Happiness.

“Oh! It’s you.”

“Grandmother. Will you come?”

Ruth’s lids lowered, exhausted. “Pretty,” she managed before sleep took her again. The cat put his paw over her face and buried his head in the pillow. No, then.

Alone, the moon made her way to the woods where the others were waiting.

(From Snow Moon.)