People are few;
A leaf falls here,
Yesterday, we returned from a long weekend in Cayuse to celebrate Elliot Thanksgiving. As always, it's lovely to go home. Especially to a place that is so familiar and also unknown. I've spent a lot of time breathing that air, but there is always something new to experience, a direct connection to nature, the old wind whistling a new song.
It was a weekend gathering of the usual suspects. We enjoyed: a magnificent meal lovingly prepared by Tina, glasses of prosecco, old and new friends, a walk on the hillside up the draw, fat snowflakes on "Thanksgiving", horses to be fed, dogs wanting their bellies scratched, fuses blown, a treasure hunt in an old shed, pancakes, monkey bread, pies, Tina teaching me how to bead, gathering sumac, teasels, and gnarled rose branches for wreaths, finding bones and antlers on the hill, and cuddling up with Caroline in a big bed piled with heavy quilts and blankets and listening to the wind howl all night.
|morning ritual--feeding the horses with Papa Grey|
|Miss Business dressed for dinner|
|A fire AND snowflakes??? Yessssss!|
|rosehips on the hill|
|perfect picture of my dad|
|the boys found a wild apple tree|
|Jack with bones and apples|