Blog Archives

Ice forming…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Each step I take brings me into deeper healing, brings me back to poetry, opens my heart to sky!

It was just a short walk today…from camp to water’s edge. I jogged back up the hill, though. This weekend I refused to rush myself. I did little of what I had planned and I slept a lot.

On the ride to camp, I read poetry by Russel Thorburn from his book, “The Whole Tree as Told to the Backyard”

I love these lines:

At my typewriter close to the window/the cold earned its right to be a metaphor,/but none could be found as we heard/the tree crouching in its dreams.

We took things from the yard and garage (at Craig Street) to camp for winter storage. We brought home wood for the garage woodstove. I picked up buckets and pots. Found three small pumpkins in the garden.

We dropped lumber at Michael and Beth’s home, too.

Dinner was re-warmed roast chicken and I smoothed yesterday’s leftover mashed potatoes into a casserole dish and baked them until slightly crusty.

Now, I have little energy for anything else.

I feel ice forming. It’s below 30-degrees. I am ready for an afghan and more poetry.

Now Appearing at Michigan in Pictures

I have been blogged, again, at Michigan in Pictures. The first time my now near famous “Mist Woods” appeared at Michigan in Pictures. Today the photo appearing was captured, again, in poor weather. Rain. An old shed in National Mine with a metal roof that slops oddly. The shed stands next to one of the many cave-in grounds left behind after a mine shut down. I call the photo, simply, “Old Shed.”

Mist Woods now appears in the gift gallery in the basement of the Peter White Library and can hang on your wall, too!

Dragon Resting

Dragonfly Resting, photo copyright Kim Nixon

When Opened

When Opened, Copyright Kim Nixon 2007

From photo series, “Images from Camp” this photo was taken during November. I am trying to learn contrast, finding light in dark, and texture. Winter is coming to the Upper Peninsula and the color gray is something I dread. But this gray, this wood, I want to embrace. I feel on a threshold. When opened, I wonder what I will find.

%d bloggers like this: