People will see the light in you and either be attracted to it or try to diminish it. Don't let ugly forces ruin beautiful things- such as yourself.

-love from The Story Girl

I took a trip to the beach, which in itself should have been enough beauty. The waves were huge and sweeping. Laughter rang out everywhere. It was a beautiful day. Yet the day was not done with me and on the way home I took a wrong turn. As my GPS struggled to recalculate, I noticed a sign for an observation farm. I passed it and then turned around to visit. My GPS was quite angry, but I was rewarded for indulging my instinct.

 Immediately I was greeted by these white blossoms. I knew it was worth going further if this was only the start. They welcomed me warmly.

I hopped carefully along wooden planks that halfheartedly were meant to keep one from walking in mud. As I came to the end of the last plank, this view came into sight. It was after seven. That the sun was still this bright seemed amazing. The sounds of happy frogs abounded.

 Right past the sun soaked field were these beautiful plants. I loved the darkness against the fresh green.

And right past that was a small bridge over a small pond...little bugs bit all about my ankles. My feet were muddy. And I was perfectly happy.

The sun seeped through any crevice it could find and fought against setting. The plants seemed to be begging it not to leave them.
I found it hard to want to leave myself; however I began to hear the sounds of teens and realized this was a hot spot for local youth on the weekend. Thus it was time to go.




When I was young and my daddy would take a wrong turn it meant an adventure. Sometimes I wonder if he purposefully took wrong turns. He was never worried about it. He never asked for directions (which, lol, I understand a bit better now), but would logic out the next turn. If there was a garage sale on the way then more the better. Being lost isn't always such a bad thing is what he taught me. This of course can be taken literally or figuratively...this wrong turn turned to be the right turn for me just as many of the wrong turns I have taken in my life have taught me wonderful lesson. As Tolkien said, "Not all those who wander are lost".

Yesterday, as today is, was rainy. My galoshes, though adorable with little owls all about them, had two very deep gashes in them making them more decorative than protective. As I approached my office though my mood was still pleasant despite my wet feet. I was joined by the new Camera Obscura album. It was a wonderful companion and kept me in good spirits. Walking up to my office there is a little pocket park. The owners of our building put it there. They are savvy owners and are working to create the new hot spot in Jamaica Plain. The pocket park has been a nice respite for myself and my co-workers. On a sunny day it is a nice space to sit and feel the warmth of the sun, while being close enough to the office to run back quickly if needed. In the center of the pocket park is a little mini garden. At the start of the Spring it was filled with beautiful bright blossoms that were so beautiful they sometimes hardly seemed real. They have since come and gone. Since their passing the pocket park has lost a bit of its charm though the owners have kept it clean and in tip top form. As savvy as the owners of the building are though, they are not as savvy as Mother Nature. When the little garden was planted many of the seeds must have been scattered by the wind. Our office is next to where the train runs. The lot of land next to us is a bit bleak with untamed grass and a leftover feeling; however our little lost seeds found homes amongst the wild grass and now blossom brightly and merrily. It is our not so secret garden.

One red flower was right at my reach as I walked past. Though it was rather greedy of me to take it, I reached down and plucked it with nary a thought. As I sat at my desk, my work instincts kicked in. I began checking my messages and reading emails. I happened to look over and caught sight of a picture of my Grandma Jeanne. I looked at the flower pinned to her suit and knew she and my red blossom were made for one another- perfectly suited. I took her picture down and placed the flower next to her. They kept each other company just as her beautiful memory has often kept me company...at least in my imagination they did. My co-worker Joel came to my desk a short while later. His own Grandmother had passed very recently. I hesitated to mention the lingering sadness I still feel when I remember my Grandmother is no longer on this earth. Yet we shared a few moments of talking about the beauty of memories even in spite of the ache that they can bring....When I came to my desk this morning, the flower had faded.  But the memory of it bright against the memory of my bright Grandmother, well that warm feeling has yet to fade. To the beauty of cherished memories. 

"Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it."  

-L.M Montgomery (from The Story Girl) 

I have been gone for a while. I know it. I have an excuse I suppose. The lid of my laptop quite literally fell off making it difficult to use; however while this is an adequate logistical excuse, I suppose it doesn't seem good enough. I gave myself a challenge and I rather gave up on it when there became a small challenge to working on it. And I can feel the effects of not writing. This is the amazing truth I have stumbled on- actually writing this blog inspired me to look even harder for the beauty in everything. Lately, I have felt not wholly felt myself...there have been some rather difficult things happening in my work life i.e. the lives of the children I work with. I have been experiencing some mild traumas as a result and have experienced some of the uglier sides of life. I seem to keep running into angry and unhelpful people in daily life...ugh. This is why I don't feel like myself. I feel as if I have been counting the ugly things I have seen and collecting those stories- stories based in anger, fear, sadness- rather than the joyous stories of nature and humanity. So time to refocus. I have the lid of my laptop propped up by Bark Ruffalo aka the best stuffed dog in the world because it was given to me by one of the best friends in the world.

And here is my first photo of my re-found blog. I was on a walk around the Reservoir with my friend Kate Monster. Walking with Kate Monster is always a delight. Why? Because when it breaks down to it we are both still awkward youth trying to figure out how to live every single passion we have. We both often feel wildly misunderstood and we both are working to understand ourselves. There are not many people in the world that you can allow yourself to feel these things with and to be able to comfortably express how goofy you still feel. As we walked we came upon these ducklings. They were no longer the small and downy baby ducklings of the first of spring. They were awkward in every sense. Their mothers still hovered and I swear one rolled its eyes at me as if 'I need space' was exactly what it was thinking. Teenage ducks looking for space...the irony of the timing was not lost on me. I laughed as soon as one of the mama ducks give me the stink eye. The rest of our walk was of course charming as was every moment beforehand. There is nothing as beautiful as feeling understood. Especially when you often feel as goofy as these goofy growing geese. Friendship, genuine friendship, is one of the most beautiful things in life, but friendship shared in nature seems even more blessed.