learning to flutter
get up on my back and i’ll give you a lift
there you go, now spread them and flutter
like this?
yes!
though they were two:
yellow and blue,
they were the same:
butterflies by name;
beings of air and wing that set the soul to sing,
beings of beauty and light that set the spirit aflight.
dandelions or stars?
from outside the earth
the light from deep down
reaches up and cuts
through the darkness
On the Water
The pond has been beckoning us since it warmed up. The temptation to get in the water has been great. Too much for four children who can barely doggie paddle: solution: build a raft or something to get on the water without needing to swim. Hence, we’ve been building boats the past week . . . . well, Little Man’s been building, the rest of us just help out with the chopping, dragging, heaving, and cheering.
First came The Barnacle, which was a wooden pallet, topside boarded up. It rocked, it tipped, it was unsteady, it got pulled ashore and awaits becoming part of a pallet picnic table 
Next came The Jet Wind, which Little Man made by first fashioning a wooden ladder from extra lumber from our cabin project last year. He tied on empty 5 gallon buckets (with lids on) between the front and back rungs, then added horizontal bars front and back, and a seat in the middle. And off they went, turn by turn since it only holds one, with a stick paddle.
Yesterday we gathered deadfall birch and pine logs, which we hatcheted down to approximately 8 feet lengths. About 10 were laid out on top of 2 logs, and tied together with lots of rope woven through the logs in a criss cross pattern. Then 2 more logs were laid on top, and tied onto the 2 logs directly below them. It was done by evening and Little Man rowed off on The Mighty Barnacle into the middle of the pond. Today was cooler so we pulled it back out and it got a bit too sloshy on board, so he’s thinking of ways in which to get it to float better
“Knowledge that is acquired under compulsion obtains no hold on the mind.”
- Plato
after the rain
“If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees. ”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
reflection
we surface
then resurface
over and over again.
how do we see the pattern that we weave
before the tapestry is complete?
a bubble blown floats on the breeze
then lands on the silken waters of a pond;
reflecting back:
the trees, the sky, the clouds, the entire universe
upon its surface.
