Walking Bear Foot

Somebody has been walking barefoot on our dirt driveway. Since snow is still clumped around the edges, it wasn't me.

A bear roams in the woods around our neighborhood. He was at the neighbors, half-a-mile away, day before yesterday, wrecking their composter.

"Why doesn't the bear eat your compost?" my neighbor asked.

"Well, it's full of leaves and garden detritus," i said. "And the kitchen scraps are all mixed in with that."

If we don't feed the bear--our neighborhood bear or the bear-of-a-problem in our mind--it won't wreak havoc with our (empty) bird feeders or our leafy compost piles.

Summer Tires

'Tis the season to change winter tires for summer tires. I took the risk yesterday, had my tires changed, and veered home through the snow/sleet/slush. Very exciting driving.

One of my neighbors has already switched to his Crocs summer footwear despite the snow. He's already wearing his summer "tires," which makes for very exciting walking downhill on the snow-ice.

Sometimes, the seasons change faster than we do. Sometimes, the weather changes faster than we are prepared for. Sometimes we change faster than our friends do.

Change. By tomorrow, the snow will be mostly melted, and it will be time for summer footwear--again.

Turkey Tracks

With 3 inches of snow-sleet-slush on the ground, i saw turkey tracks in our driveway, just inches from the garage door. Their arrow-shaped tracks seemed to be giving me directions, but, which way?

In March, i was at a 10-day retreat. The teacher offered us different instructions with every sit. "But you only need one practice," he said. "If the other practices don't work for you, do not, repeat, do not take that as a sign of your ineptitude. Do not take that as a sign of your unworthiness." In other words, you are not a turkey, no matter what your inner judge tells you.

Last Chance to Plant Poppies

Due to yesterday's wintry mix, there's one inch of snow on the ground. So-called snow. It's more like tiny round pellets of ice. But i don't have time to quibble because today, this morning is my last chance to sow poppy seeds.

Poppy seeds like it cold. I couldn't understand why my poppy seeds barely germinated until a gardening friend told me to sow poppy seeds on top of the last snow.

When is the "last snow"? Who knows?

And who knows when our own "last snow" might be. I have a new app on my phone, We Croak, which reminds 5 times a day that i am going to die. The We Croak website says, "Find happiness by contemplating your mortality."

I'm going to contemplate happiness by strapping on my yak-trax and throwing some poppy seeds around on top of the snow.

Wintry Mix

It's precipitating a wintry mix today--snow, sleet, freezing rain. The temperature hovers right around freezing. Here it's 31 degrees, but three miles south, it's 33 degrees. The earth has warmed just enough to melt the snowflakes, but the snow accumulates on my car. A glaze of ice covers sidewalks and steps.

We are in the transition zone between rain and ice, freezing and not freezing.

In fact, we are always in a transition zone from one thing to another. We think that people, places, and things have hard edges, but quite often, things are morphing. Like the weather today. A time when it's neither this nor that. More likely, it's this and that. Uncertainty and instability prevail. Take a close look to notice the ever-changing change.

Heather is in Bloom

I'm at a writing retreat this weekend at a New Hampshire farm B&B, facilitated by local editor Heather and writer Rebecca. Our group of 7 women writes from 9 in the morning until 9 at night. During our breaks we can wander around the gardens and through the nearby fields and forest.

Heather is blooming here in the full sun sloping field--just the right habitat for heather--the proper habitat, which i don't have at my house.

I'm also in the right habitat for writing, for following through with some writing projects, and for talking about writing with other writers.

I'm also in the right habitat for keeping my 6:00 a.m. date on Skype to meditate for an hour every morning with a Dharma friend. At that hour, the B&B is quiet, and i can find a quiet nook to sit comfortably in.

Writing, meditating, spending time outdoors--this weekend, i'm living according to my intentions, and feel deeply satisfied.

The Goldfinches are Gold

The goldfinches just turned yellow while i wasn't looking. Last week, they were dressed in olive drab. This week, the males are decked out in their finest yellow.

Change is happening all around us. We are hard-wired to notice potential threats. Meanwhile, a raft of changes happens under the radar. Like the goldfinches turning gold.

This lovely change brings happiness in many ways.

• the color is brilliant
• the change means spring!
• the goldfinches are flocking
• the goldfinches are singing

Open your heart to unnoticed happiness.