Thursday, September 4, 2014


"Where does the butterfly go when it rains?" once asked a bookish fella.
Viewing this, a child might answer, "Under these yellow umbrellas!"

(When I first saw this group of fungi last week, before our warm dry weather, they stood straight and tall and rounded and very yellow... looking for all the world like umbrellas for the "little people" of the woodlands. Or yes, for butterflies in the rain. I wish I had photographed them then.)

Wednesday, September 3, 2014


Bob, Rose and Lady in our valley, in the Fall of 1991. We had bought this property because we loved the land. We spent a lot of time there, having lunches on the tailgate of our truck, watching suns rise and set... before we decided to break ground and live there.
Our house itself was born on Easter Sunday, April 1992, when we descended into the thickness of our woodland to begin the work of clearing. We had Easter dinner there, such as it was. It was a Holy Day, a day for worship, but I think the good Lord understood that we were setting into place our plans for life in a beautiful spot that would remind us of His wonders every day. In "Valley Songs," a journal I had begun about that property and our love for it, I set down these words about that day:

Our first valley Easter,
this land newly ours,
we sat in the chilly Spring air.

Our grown kids were here,
and our daughters-in-law,
and a few miscellaneous souls.

Someone brought flowers they had
plopped in a beer can,
and we toasted ourselves with hot drinks.

Our Easter attire
was flannel and denim
embellished with work gloves and boots.

We communed with our chain saws
and worked up a sweat
as we cleared us a place for our home.

We greeted cold dusk
with a great lusty campfire
and allowed it to burn through the night.

It was exciting like Christmas
and a bit like Thanksgiving
and already a whole lot like home.

Rose  Moore--Easter 1992

Bob and Mark and ski-steer loader on our valley property on Easter 1992


Weather. Never boring. Always something beautiful, even in the gloom, if you care to look.
Yesterday was a fascinating weather day, beginning in the morning with the sort of spectacular sunrise that makes you know that storms are on the way.
Rains all day, but oh the drama of the clouds! I didn't try to photograph them; I just gawked!
And then the end of day, the skies began to clear and the west horizon suddenly looked like Mother Nature had applied a pot of rouge to her cheeks.
And then at bedtime, I glanced out and saw a bright half-moon moving through the tree branches and lighting up the creek.
It made me wonder; if I stayed awake all night, what would I see? If I fell asleep, what would I miss?
I couldn't help it; I fell asleep.
And awoke to fog and gloom.
By 10 a.m. the sun had burned off all the fog. It was all blue skies and sunshine, still and cloudless. Lighting up the sunflowers on my upper deck.
Weather! I love it!