mumma yaga

 Jan. 5 There are animals that live near us but many of them we almost never see, only their tracks.  These are deer prints, in the meadow and crossing the stream.  This is a deer's track, where he or she slipped on the ice or snow. One doesn't think of wild creatures slipping or falling!  This creature jumped into or out of the tree, and I followed its tracks... ...over to the stream, ...and down the stream bed: there were two sets of prints here, coming and going. Here he "marked" the trail on both sides of his path, where the stream went between two trees. His (or her) footprints look very human. That suggests a raccoon (or a very small humanoid who lives in a tree!) This is the print of a small hunter, fox or bobcat, I think. He crossed the meadow below the copse of hawthorns.     Finding a path around the hawthorns and brambles. These are Blackie's paw prints - they are bigger than the palm of my hand.     Blackie, come to meet me. The fallen...

  Jan. 1, 2022 an artist once told K about the colours one can see - the painter's colours, group of seven purples and oranges - not just the greens and blues that are more blatant. thank you, to that artist. you have taught us see more colour, even in grey january. the old barn and the black raspberry cane. hayscented fern now hay-coloured, and silver birch: A very small cave by the stream: fungi: and lichen and moss the beech and the grapes silver birch, and grapes: Jan. 2 it snowed. a way through the brambles. Mumma Yaga

 Dec. 31 " - covid-19 is out there and we need to continue with the sticks and stones of masks and isolation to keep it at bay. " mumma yaga, 201231 A year ago...  ** This is the upper pond, running, though it's shallow. There are only a few hours left. I listen to a new year's eve playlist from 2019. "It's been so long you've been wanting a cabin and a back-woods trail" * I have been grateful this week. It has filled my heart and mind. How have I come to this place? It is a magic beyond believing, just as the magic is that seems to blaze on the hills, as if it might catch fire.  Today it is above zero and everything is melting. Great avalanches fall from the roof with a cloudy thump, but most of the water evaporates directly into a mist that rises along the ridges, like smoke.     Up the camp road where beech leaves wait for the later winds. Blackie came out to see me as I neared his house. I walked across from the camp road to climb up through the ...