Still Amazed
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BlogAboutSearch
Still Amazed
A place to pause
Teaching & LearningInterviewsStories & SnippetsMore
Impassable In Wet Conditions
Impassable In Wet Conditions
Memoir, Ranch LifecynthiaMarch 23, 2015bike rides, ranch life, changes, effort, tryingComment
Tangible Things and A Certain Kind of Light
Tangible Things and A Certain Kind of Light
MemoircynthiaMarch 20, 2015Santa Barbara, childhood, cities, memories, walks, light Comments
Treebeard's Gift
Treebeard's Gift
Friends, Memoir, NaturecynthiaMarch 11, 2015Marc Kummel, Santa Barbara backcountry, Treebeard Comment
Old Friends and Bicycles
Old Friends and Bicycles
Friends, Memoir, Ranch LifecynthiaMarch 11, 2015bicycles, friends, life lessons, Teresa, Donna, Chris, bike friends Comment
All Except the One
All Except the One
Memoir, Ranch LifecynthiaMarch 5, 2015trees, memoir, plants, change, little tree, ranch lifeComment
Today's Walk
Today's Walk
Ranch Life, PoetrycynthiaMarch 3, 2015walks, photo, green hills, March walk, David WhyteComment
Strange Gathering
Strange Gathering
MemoircynthiaMarch 1, 2015thrift stores, dolls, childhood, lossComment
Misty Walk
Misty Walk
Friends, NaturecynthiaFebruary 22, 2015Grass Mountain, hikes, Santa Ynez Valley, picturesComment
Continuity
Continuity
Friends, MemoircynthiaFebruary 21, 2015my mother, childhood, Carol, Brooklyn, friendshipComment
Newer Older
Lines and reflections Fog at play. A hike with friends...foolproof remedy for the blues. We’re fortified now. A storied old house: “Outdoors the wind./Indoors the locked heart and the lost key.” (Louis Macniece) We ran into a skeleton, a miniature mule, and Milly today. I’m obsessed. Can you blame me?! Looking out towards Gaviota Peak the fog considers a comeback Ranch roads on this late summer morning... red vein veterinary lesson best kind of welcome Well, THIS was unexpected. And this is how we are getting to know the infinitely fascinating and oh-so-faraway Felix...sigh. When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand still and look around On all the hills I haven't hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in th In a dark time the eye begins to see (Roethke) a walk adorned by swirls of fog The shy return of clouds.
“Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”
— Mary Oliver
 

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