My Beauty Well had completely run dry a few weeks ago.
You see, I was putting every bit of inspiration the days and weeks were giving me into my work without refilling the account, without going museum-ing or taking the camera out on neighborhood walks.
There were no hikes or bike rides at night with my blinking light to guide the way...
as a treat for the three of us I booked a night at a favorite place brought to my attention during a trip
with a dear dove.
to Hell with 7-11: thank heaven for Inverness!!!
We packed up Brock and wound our way North across the Golden Gate and through the culinary treats of Petaluma
settling in for a while under the duck blind and watching the Great Egrets and Herons
slow down our breath and take it away.
I am forever amazed at how well Orion travels, at his wonderful comfort level in new places.
Whenever we go out to eat with him there is the inevitable comment from another table or a server as we're leaving: "Your baby is so calm, so good" -
I think it's because the world has been such a lovely place for him so far,
every outing showing him the best of people.
Smiles and fun and questions that help him come out of his shy shell...
May it continue to be so!
It's not like we were broken when we came up to our true home this Saturday (a year in Petaluma and my heart belongs to the earth of the North Bay, to those ancient mountains that time wore out)
but we were frayed.
Our hearts needed ministering to by birdsong and irish hills.
Orion saw his first significant ocean waves at a Favorite Beach
we fell asleep to the sound of Hoot Owls calling to each other in the dark
We watched hummingbirds fight over the sweet nectar of a feeder
I think we owe it to ourselves to get out of Dodge as frequently as the soul needs
and fill all the empty places that outside things can fill
as soon as possible
because even though the world has proven great art can come from tortured and parched spirits
I've certainly never known that to be true.
I've known fire and inspiration to come from ache and healing, but none from
a dry and exhausted well.
Driving home tonight they began their slow and tremulous waltz through my psyche,
the nymphs of inspiration.
I listened, I sketched in my head the things that they whispered
and oh my friends...it is so good.
Are you taking care of you, oh dear Reader?
Tell me what you've done to tend your dry places
and we'll compare notes.
Sunny Bearing Water