I have been in a transitional period in my life this past year. We moved from our home in Seattle to our little town of Dayton, WA. We bought a new home. And those two were truly new found joys. I also left a long time volunteer position and took up a part time paid position at our little community library. I thought I might mourn after 8 years as a volunteer photographer with Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, but I actually found that it set me free to explore my life here in Dayton, spend more time writing, and seeking light for the camera I carry and also the one in my head.
I am falling more and more in love with the Palouse country I live in. A drive through the area is like the pitch and roll of being on a ship as you dip and rise through petrified ocean waves, the residue of prehistoric floods. The sky is wide open, clouds cast shadows across newly green wheat fields and in every intake of air I know that spring is coming. And spring is always a new found joy, not just for me but for every slumbering flower and plant that is now pushing itself through the ground or straining to produce a new blossom at the tip of bare branches.
This week has been filled with the noise of boys. Daughter LolaLeah came with three of our grand-babies for a spring break visit. The age spread in these three makes for interesting sounds and conversations. One is 13 years old, Riley, and vacillates between the surly quietness of teendom and still happy conversations of his younger days. The 7 year old, Cole, wakes up completely and fully alive every day. He bounds out of bed as if it is his first day on earth and he knows he only has so many hours available to accomplish so many things. The 1 year old, Harvey, giggles and grunts and screams and jabbers and poops and eats and then starts over. These boys make for new found joys every single moment. Watching my daughter parent them is beautifully moving. She is the kind of mother I never was and definitely the kind of mother I never had. She is strong, funny, kind, stern, instructional, guiding, and so loving to her boys.
Here is Cole and Harvey sharing a bath in my 100 year old tub:
The New York Times just published a piece about Walla Walla, Waitsburg, and Dayton . . . the triad of wine towns where good food, wine, hand-crafted beer, and exploration are in abundance. It’s a good read and describes the personality of our area quite accurately. And it’s an invitation to come visit. My Blue Cape Cod is here with lots of room for friends, laughter, and new found joys.
Here is the link to the NY Times article:
A Blue Cape Cod 