Still Amazed
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BlogAboutSearch
Still Amazed
A place to pause
Teaching & LearningInterviewsStories & SnippetsMore
Remedies
Remedies
Memoir, Friends, Quarantine Diary, Ranch LifeCyn CarboneAugust 10, 2020friends, children, pandemic
Dough-Nuts Don't Help
Dough-Nuts Don't Help
Quarantine Diary, MemoirCyn CarboneAugust 7, 2020walks, friends, Solvang, pandemic
Giving Myself A Pep Talk
Giving Myself A Pep Talk
Commentary, Quarantine DiaryCyn CarboneAugust 5, 2020resistance, political commentary, pandemic, finding hope, Rebecca Solnit
Zooming On A Sunday Afternoon
Zooming On A Sunday Afternoon
Memoir, Poetry, Quarantine DiaryCyn CarboneAugust 3, 2020friends, zoom, bicycle friends, pandemic, bike girls
The Unhealed Wounds
The Unhealed Wounds
Memoir, Quarantine DiaryCyn CarboneAugust 1, 2020Natasha Trethaway, poetry, Federico Garcia Lorca, William Stafford, grief, loss, wisdom, pandemic, reflections
The French Doll
The French Doll
Memoir, Quarantine DiaryCyn CarboneJuly 26, 2020memoir, Marianne Moore, writing, childhood, memories
Lighten Up
Lighten Up
Memoir, Quarantine Diary, Small Pleasures, Ranch LifeCyn CarboneJuly 25, 2020memoir, friendship
Good Peasant Stock
Good Peasant Stock
Cyn CarboneJuly 23, 2020
Be A Pilot Light, Not A Firecracker
Be A Pilot Light, Not A Firecracker
Memoir, Commentary, Quarantine DiaryCyn CarboneJuly 18, 2020comet, sky watcher, pandemic, John Lewis, hope, commentary, memoir
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... veterinary lesson best kind of welcome red vein 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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