Listen to the Forest

The first time I approached this home I was enamored with how it nestled into the forest & towered above the lake. Walking around back, I scanned the scene below & listened to the song of the waterfall as it cascaded into the cove beneath. "Wouldn't this be a great place for a kid to grow up !?! " ~~~ 12 years have passed & the forest is alive with the sound of boys running & laughing, exploring & discovering. We are so very blessed !
Yesterday, my son & his friend prepared to climb into the pool. Without looking up from my gardens I reminded them, "Listen to the forest. It is beginning to murmur & sing." Both boys paused & looked skyward. I heard my son explain, "When a storm is coming, the trees begin to warn each other. One tells another, who tells another... They tell when it is coming & when it is close." His buddy replied, "Yeah, we better wait."
I LOVE that they know that !


The other evening, as neighbors contemplated taking refuge in their crawlspaces, I stood out on our deck storm-watching. I listened to the forest & to songbirds calling out their final warnings. The sky deepened from greys to blues & into the night. Rose colored flashes, punctuated by slow moving streaks of pink lightening illuminated the trees. The clouds darkened & swirled overhead, clearly traveling quickly & in different directions. I actually witnessed fingers of different sizes twisting high aloft. It was amazing & invigorating, but strangely enough, not the least bit scary.

Caramel Currents

In recent weeks we have gone from a frozen, blue lake to raging, caramel waters. We have seen spring days & torrential rains, followed by an ice storm, spring again, a "wintry mix", & a return to spring rains & flooding. We anticipate the lake's activity by the weather in the mountains, as well as our own precipitation.


Twice, the lake waters flowed over with such force that the dam itself was not visible. The raging currents beneath were ferocious, as they thrashed the rocks on shore, hurricane-style. I once read, "do something scary every day". This was on my mind as the wind whipped my cape around me & I peered through my lens high atop the raging waters. The bridge trembled & shook under me as traffic flew by. The whole experience was incredibly invigorating!... so much so that I did it in the second flood, too !


The trees barely discernible in the shadows of the above pictures are normally on shore. Though not one of my favorites, I post this last image because my brother gasped in amazement & simply stared at it in wonder.