.spring equinox.

Happy Spring Equinox! It feels like the weather is a little bit ahead of the days, with 70 degree temperatures this past weekend, it feels like we jumped into summer. It's interesting with such a small space between a snow storm on the first weekend of March and 70 degree days, there's been little to no transition between the dark cold days and the increasingly long and warm ones. I can palpably feel the swell in energy. The hibernation is over and I jumped out of bed. 

I went paddling last weekend and not yet ready to head home, ventured out on a hike after. I'm ready to be outside all day. I found a copy of my favorite regional books, Washington's Channeled Scablands Guide and making a list of all my spring hike aspirations. I love the energy of spring. The wonder of finding wildflower blooms, the flash of color in the muted Shrub-Steppe landscape. Yesterday I saw the very first balsamroot petals emerging. It was the best surprise.

The Power Path says the equinox "marks and anchors a new path, a new trajectory and allows for the creative current of the time to forge its way forward and support progress as we envision the future." What creative projects are emerging? I feel like my head is overflowing with ideas. I'm also hungrily reading several books lately. 

Projects:

- Finding local color, inspired by a class with Alice Fox

- Finishing a winter sky inspired textile piece in response to a piece I made last year

- Walking memory - an exploratory abstract drawing from walks

- Basket weaving

- watching the spring wildflowers emerge

Books:

- Community: A Structure of Belonging by Peter Block

- The Cassandra by Sharma Shields (a Spokane author I met at the recent library conference)

- Coyote Stories by Mourning Dove, a Colville women

- Anita de Monte Laughs Last by Xochitl Gonzales

 I lit some candles yesterday and made some spring wishes. I'll leave you with a beautiful spring quote by Andrew Doerr, “A spring night is a power that sweeps through the crowded sheaves of blooming tulips and pours into your heart like a river.” 

.may first.

It's May and finally the blooms have arrived. The balsamroot is in full bloom, the purple alpine lupine is here and even the bitterbrush is growing new leaves, soon to bloom its delicate butter colored blooms. The spring in the shrub-steppe is such a shocking time, a brief moment of lavish color before it all goes brown, muted again. It makes you pay attention and be present for the beauty of the season. 

.blooms emerging.

 Spring is coming. 

This year we had late March snow, then almost 60 degree days, and now back to frosty mornings, but spring is coming. 

I took a quick walk on a path in the foothills last night and was surprised to see so many tiny blooms. Yellow and blue bell wildflowers slowing emerging amongst the mostly brown grass. The land is so dull and the blooms so few, you still have to look for a second for your eyes to acclimate to the burst of color. Then, I saw the fresh greens of lupine and balsamroot pushing through the hard soil. I wondered it the first signs of lupine greens could be just as beautiful as their sweet purple blooms? Can I appreciate each part of the process more? I feel like I could, it's not an easy to see the beauty at first, but it's the process/cycle that holds the magic. How can I slow down to appreciate all the tiny moments that make up season?