19 April 2010

wood ocean

A fibrous current pulls grainy tides back to shore.

17 April 2010

book love: prodigal summer

I am immersed in Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer for the sixth year in a row. It's one of my favorite traditions that I look forward to every year during spring's first bloom. The book speaks of the complexities of human interaction, ecological hierarchies, and organic farming, of love and loss, passion and grief, of "extravagant procreation" and rural simplicity.

Prodigal Summer
Kingsolver's flowing poetry cascades in and out of three delicately interconnected storylines. In Predators, an aging wildlife biologist becomes distracted with a torrid affair while studying the recovery of an ecosystem by a pioneering coyote family. In Moth Love, a widowed farmer's wife comes to terms with the inheritance of a dilapidated, tobacco-destined farm and a family consumed with misunderstandings. And in Old Chestnuts, a proud retired teacher attempts to single-handedly revive the extinct American chestnut while battling his old-fashioned views with an unruly petite neighbor and her organic philosophies.

I've never written about a book before and its hard to make something you love so much not sound cheesy or contrived. You want others to experience it too, to take in the amazing ebb and flow of the novel that moves you to multi-year reflection. But when I read what I just wrote above, I realize my interpretation somehow turned Kingsolver's masterpiece into cheap romance novel dust jacket! Hence, the reason why my day job is not being a writer and I will keep my musings on this topic short.
Bottom line: I love this book not only for the pure enjoyment of it, but for its beautiful character development and teachings of ecological principles, for righting the wrongs made by ignorance and miscommunication, and celebrating the subtle complexities of life, be it human, coyote, luna moth, American chestnut, or any other extraordinary species, both here and gone.
Luna Moth

15 April 2010

field collection

I couldn't help but take just a few shots of some incredible central Texas landscapes this last week. This is what the hill country looks like from a wildlife biologist's point of view...


Up close and personal...


In admiration of the rejuvenated Pedernales River...


Some other flowering beauties...

Pink Mimosa


Spanish Dagger


Field of Sunflowers


And last but not least, weathered wood. Half my jewelry is reflective of twigs and branches, of all things wood. I wish I could do field work every day!


p.s. If you can't tell, I finally figured out how to make my pictures HUGE! From now on, better fabulous photos! Speaking of, these pix were taken from an iPhone. Can you believe it?

12 April 2010

feast for the eyes

My obsession with spring flowers has come to its peak this year. Everything is so unbelievably vivid right now! Emerald grasses. Chartreuse oaks. A roadside Monet of wildflowers. I haven't seen this many bluebonnets, Indian paintbrushes, Mexican hats, and sunflowers going full-out bonkers like this since I don't know when. It's almost as if my eyes are starving and those fields are the creme brulee. Take my spoon and crack that crust!

And I'm not one for gloating, but even my modest yard is in full bloom! My favorite columbines are like these little yellow comets, like little shooting stars coming home. Scarlet roses. Indigo salvias. Fuchsia bougainvilleas. Even baby cacti!

Every day I watch my cannas progess into their glory. They slowly leaf out and I can't help but appreciate each day for what it brings anew. I inhale the sweet intoxicating aroma of the Texas mountain laurel tree, my favorite little tree in Texas, the one I named my jewelry company after (with a twist of my middle name), and I am transformed. Renewed. Ready to take on the world.

Yet somehow, in the back of my mind, I can't stop myself from thinking that each day is another day closer to the burning resolution of summer, one less day to have these little treasures around.

So what can you do? I guess the only thing that can be done. Take it in and enjoy every fleeting moment.