winter has been a season of slowness interjected with bursts of activity, long evenings playing cards and early mornings on the ski hill. There is a sense of excitement around camp as we prepare for summer, writing programming guidelines and recruiting staff.
I woke up to two inches of fresh snow and fog rising off the lake, blending with the mountains and reflecting the morning sun. This weekend was busy and tiring but entirely joy filled. Having a group of kids at camp always lifts my spirits, but this weekend I got to lead the retreat, rather than just be the person at meals. It felt so good to be leading games and songs, watching the kids laugh together and support each other. Spaces like camp are special, important and meaningful & I will never stop believing that.
Today is for rest, after 48 hours of shouting, singing, laughing, skiing and working. The light this morning was stunning and I thought I’d take advantage of it & take a few photos of my little house, and the pieces of it that make it my home.
This ivy was on the brink of death when I found it outside a cabin this fall. Inside, near my huge picture window, it’s doing much better.
Ginny bought me these two prints about two years ago, with no knowledge that I’d be moving to Montana in the future. The wood wall hanging is made from trees that grew and were harvested at Mar Lu Ridge, my forever home.
plants & mountains, always. (banner by ginny)
Maybe one day I will make my bed every morning, but that day has not yet come.
I am anxiously awaiting warmer days, when I can eat outside on the porch in the evening, and string my hammock up under the deck. Until then, it’s not a bad spot to watch the snow fall.
November has been at once a very fast and very slow month out here. Autumn faded to winter, mom came to visit, the snow fell and melted and fell again, and thanksgiving snuck up on us.
As I sit in my little cottage and watch the snow dance lightly through the pines, my heart is filled with gratitude for this place and this time in my life.
Thankful for the winters colors on the lake,
For visitors and big beautiful places,
For this sacred space in my “backyard”,
And for mountains, always.
It’s almost Advent, which has always been such a holy time for me, of watching and waiting. I am thankful for the gift of grace we are looking out for and for the knowledge that it is always, always here with us.
What are you grateful for today?
We woke up to the tiniest snowfall down here by the lake. There has been snow on the peaks for weeks now, and I’ve been hiking through it up high since I got here, but it hadn’t shown itself down low yet.
The first snowfall always make me feel like a child again, running to the window every few minutes to make sure it’s still falling, anticipating the next day’s activities. I love the quiet of a snowy morning and the way pine trees stand out through the white.
We have a long winter ahead of us, but for now, I am enjoying the stillness of the lake and the beauty of snow covered mountains. Stay warm, wherever you are!