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It was damp and cold and grey and felt like Maine last night. And it was a welcome relief to go to yoga and relax into the warmth of the cozy room, to be able to shed both socks and shirts, as well as the tenseness that had resided in my body for most of the day. Yoga with Neesha is delicious, because she is wise and funny and really knows her Anusara yoga. We talked about self-love, about heart openers, about valuing the body we are given because it is such a gift to have life and be human. I thought about, and then let those thoughts go, how I often look at my body and wish I could change certain things. Or push it to perform on the ski slope, or the rock face, or the dirt trail. Instead, it is such a shrine to be honored for its uniqueness to me, for its ability to get me up in the morning, for me to see, hear, smell and touch, for it to allow me to think and feel and digest my food.

Olive and I often walk on the same trail everyday. My favorite time to be out is the morning because everything seems more still and magical. We had the trail all to ourselves this morning, as the wind was howling and wet spring snowflakes were flying. Spring brings a myriad of smells out of the ground that really mesmerize Olive, lead her to create roundabout trails as her nose directs her here and there and back again. I have become quite the seeker of wildlife, eager to spot the deer, the moose, the fox before my four-legged companion does. The herder in her sometimes overcomes the good dog in her, and it pains me to see her chase other animals. But with that seeking has come a deeper appreciation for the diversity of the trees, and the way a deer, when still, can blend perfectly into the forest. I notice little things, little changes that occur to branches and bushes, the sawdust from a woodpecker hole fresh on the new snow.

Drooling over the Haystack Mountain School of Crafts listings. One day I will get back to that magical place and make art again. Such a huge gift in high school. The workshop I would take would be with Joan Livingstone. I am loving her work. See it here www.joanlivingstone.com

There is just something about fiber....