.holding on until it fades.

    It might feel like I keep posting the same pictures, but this spring I can't seems to shake the awe and wonder of walking the vibrant foothills. I know this season is short. The heat was late to arrive this year, but it's here and increasing by the day, which means the vibrant yellows and purples will soon disappear until next spring. There are more blooms to come in the shrub-steppe, the bitterbrush is emerging and the buckwheat and rabbitbrush are still to come, but it's the balsamroot and lupine that kickoff the season. They're still here. I find myself walking the same path a few times a week, attentively observing the rhythm of blooms. Last night I could tell the blooms were fading away. There are still brilliant arrangements in small pockets, so I'm holding on while it's here. I've been thinking a lot about the beauty/vibrancy of the native plants. I wonder if the beauty is magnified by the limitations. The fragility of this moment. The miracle that all the elements come together to allow this tiny season to exist. The contrast of muted arid lands that make these bloom feel so shockingly joyful. I think it is the tenderness, the softness of these weeks. So often it's the time that gives the highest value but there's so much to learn from the seasons of nature. To appreciate and be fully present to this moment. How can I bring this understanding to my day to day life? How can I practice deeper presence and release the need to attach value and time? I'm working on jewelry regularly again. It feels good to have constant studio time. My jewelry practice is a reflection/expression/journal of where the inner and outer world intersect/combine, so it makes sense that my current pieces are influenced by the shapes and teachings of the spring, the vibrancy of tenderness.