I’m in love with garden harvests. All the green and underground lovelies. Waiting to give their best for the cause. Rainbow palate in each haul. Insects unknowingly caught up in the action, making the trip back to the garden on their own.
Herbs, hots, sweets, medicinal cures and teas sharing a harvest basket. Happily sacrificing themselves for the good of the order. Whatever that means lol. Harvesting the mature, the impressive, the plenty. Garden basket and clippers in hand.
Harvest day. Harvest week. Row by row. I stand, lean, squat, bend, kneel. Feeling the gratitude arise. The basket filling over and again. Fresh, earthy gifts. I love garden harvests.

I’ve had some very interesting, very deep, connections – I like to call them
I’m in love with cool breezes through open windows. The desire for fresh, no matter the season.
Today I’m thankful for the animals that share our space.
As I am in serious pain today, on my way to get some relief, I was seriously cursing the rain and gray skies. And then this happened and suddenly I’m transformed.
Saturday. It’s so nice to see you – I’ve waited since last time we met to be with you once again. 
Feeling gratitude for my slice of this earth…
People come into our lives. They may be forgettable. 
I observed a 3 year old girl yesterday, being 3. At the beach with her grandparents. It was time to leave and her older sister noticed the beach showers. 

Yesterday was an emotional day for me. The purging hurt so good. The death of an antiquated pattern, shedding my dumb-suit. My beauty radiating blissfully from under the decaying camouflage. Reflecting on how different I am today. It hit me hard. Like my heart was cracking open to love – love for myself.
What I know today is that I am doing the best I can with what I know at this moment. Listening to my body, getting my needs met and noticing, just noticing issues and problems. After all, the problems are usually not the big deal, it’s the way we FEEL about
Feeling gratitude for my slice of this earth…to feel what nature/earth has to offer, to hear sounds of wild things, to see vibrant colors and changing landscape, to play on the land- limited only by my own creativity. I acknowledge the privilege of tasting the fruits of my relationship with Mother Earth.
There’s a delivery, yes, for you. A package at the front door. The mail carrier placed it gently on the stoop. It’s an interesting heart-shaped box, ornately decorated, with just one white label.