I wish there was no time limit to live our lives. We should not know the time; that’s how I want to live my life, without boundaries of time.
Whenever you’re involved in something willingly, you don't mind the timing. Hours of time feel like minutes when you are truly involved in something you desire.
Life should be lived with full involvement, without knowing the time. Then you’ve lived your life. Time is an illusion; it is bounded only by the mind.
Time is a limitation. Life should be lived without limitation. There should not be a feeling when you’re born or when you die. ‘Now’ is the only time we should embrace.
In the house where I'm currently living, my bedroom faces southeast. For the first time in my life, I wake up with the sun. My favorite time is just before the sun rises above the hill and trees. My room floods with orange light, which makes me smile.
In the living room, I also feel when it's mid-day. The sun slips around the house, and the room becomes more shadowed and darker.
On the traditional territories of the Lekwungen Peoples, now known as the Songhees and Esquimalt First Nations in what is Victoria,B.C., I walk through nearby Beacon Hill Park at least once a week alert to the shifting of the seasons through the changing leaves, flowers and light. Before I moved here, my favourite season was fall. Last year I realized spring had edged out fall as my fav because in the park, the days unfold in a pastel potpourri of pink and white cherry blossoms, crocus, and daffodil shoots, tulips and others, each bud marking the renewal that spring heralds. Similar to your story, Candace, spring hasn’t fully arrived for me until the camas push up on hillsides in the park. Camassia, a member of the Asparagus family, and the bulbs used by First Nations for food for centuries, turn some of the green hillsides and other grassy areas a subtle mauve. Only after my first glimpse of the camas do I accept that spring is really here. Inevitably as I delight upon my first sighting, some time in April, I find myself imagining generations of Indigenous families harvesting these, a transparency of the past over the present, as if each plant represents one of their ancestors saying hello.
Spring comes here when the desert peach blooms. It's a gnarly little bush, not nearly as spectacular as the fruit tree version, yet it's blossoms always alert me that warmer, more settled weather is near at hand. In August, the desert turns golden with rabbitbrush flowers. A type of sage, it covers the western American lands with a yellow carpet that last into mid-October. That's when the winds come to blow all the leaves away, leaving the cottonwoods to stand twisted and gnarled as if being tortured. Snow may wait until November or even December, but the rabbitbrush blooms like clockwork.
I know when the warmer seasons are coming because my joints ache less, and my headaches improve. It's happening right now and it is always brilliant when I notice it.
It rains in the winter here. I know spring is coming when the rain stops and I can go on my favorite trail again and reach this magical point on the trail where the sun filters through the trees and shines on the stream. It’s like being at an altar. I wrote about invitations today and loved reading this, Candace!
I recognise the arrival of Autumn here in Auckland, by the dipping of temperatures, the stacking of firewood, and the most spectacular sunset skies of orange, pink and mauve 🧡💗💜 Usually it elicits an inner sense of sadness and loss, this year I find it comforting as the external world seems to come more into alignment with the internal world. Summer is no longer taunting me for being in a bubble of hibernation.
Lol. I tell time by my miniature horses! Spring is shedding season number one when the winter coat starts coming out in handfuls! All over! Summer is when it’s too hot for what coat is left over so the get body clipped. Again, hair is all over! Fall is shedding season number two when the summer coat sheds out and the winter coat starts growing in and the hair gets longer. Hair kinda still gets everywhere, just not as much. Winter is when they are fuzzy teddy bears with thick hair and finally, no hair on me. We’ve just started shedding right now. Wheeeeeee! 😂
Navy darkness is replaced with sun rises, pink and peach, before most others are awake. It's a precious time. Just me, the golden dawn and a cup of tea.
I'm new to this group, forgive me if this comment is too long:
how I tell time.... now
when there's no pause in the rhythm for spring break
when I can rise with the light
and go to bed when I'm tired
when there's no spring practices, concerts, or conferences.
but instead
texts of;
"Hey mom, look at the view out my window!"
from the East coat, the Pacific Northwest, and the sunsets over the Rockies.
I now tell time by
creation's witness alone
of birdsong and buds
of days growing lighter
comparing spring snows and spring rains
with my newly grown and flown Beloveds
this new way of telling time is hopeful and bittersweet.
As a nonnative in the country I live in and climate change this is becoming harder.
But temperature is one, when my coconut oil is solid = cold and winter 🥶 When my coconut oil is liquid = hot and summer 🥵
Irises 🪻 come at the end of winter along with almond blossom 🌸 (originally would’ve been spring).
The sky is a light blue 🩵 in summer and a dark blue in winter 💙
The sea 🌊 is dark & freezing cold in winter and warm, shimmering & transparent summer.
Rain comes in the shoulder seasons, but as we’re in a big drought it’s less reliable.
I wish there was no time limit to live our lives. We should not know the time; that’s how I want to live my life, without boundaries of time.
Whenever you’re involved in something willingly, you don't mind the timing. Hours of time feel like minutes when you are truly involved in something you desire.
Life should be lived with full involvement, without knowing the time. Then you’ve lived your life. Time is an illusion; it is bounded only by the mind.
Time is a limitation. Life should be lived without limitation. There should not be a feeling when you’re born or when you die. ‘Now’ is the only time we should embrace.
In the house where I'm currently living, my bedroom faces southeast. For the first time in my life, I wake up with the sun. My favorite time is just before the sun rises above the hill and trees. My room floods with orange light, which makes me smile.
In the living room, I also feel when it's mid-day. The sun slips around the house, and the room becomes more shadowed and darker.
Purple, white, and yellow wildflowers dot the green hills after the winter storms, and the doves are asking who who who will be my mate.
I think I time my life by bees more than anything else. Keeping bees has definitely changed how I am in the world.
On the traditional territories of the Lekwungen Peoples, now known as the Songhees and Esquimalt First Nations in what is Victoria,B.C., I walk through nearby Beacon Hill Park at least once a week alert to the shifting of the seasons through the changing leaves, flowers and light. Before I moved here, my favourite season was fall. Last year I realized spring had edged out fall as my fav because in the park, the days unfold in a pastel potpourri of pink and white cherry blossoms, crocus, and daffodil shoots, tulips and others, each bud marking the renewal that spring heralds. Similar to your story, Candace, spring hasn’t fully arrived for me until the camas push up on hillsides in the park. Camassia, a member of the Asparagus family, and the bulbs used by First Nations for food for centuries, turn some of the green hillsides and other grassy areas a subtle mauve. Only after my first glimpse of the camas do I accept that spring is really here. Inevitably as I delight upon my first sighting, some time in April, I find myself imagining generations of Indigenous families harvesting these, a transparency of the past over the present, as if each plant represents one of their ancestors saying hello.
Spring comes here when the desert peach blooms. It's a gnarly little bush, not nearly as spectacular as the fruit tree version, yet it's blossoms always alert me that warmer, more settled weather is near at hand. In August, the desert turns golden with rabbitbrush flowers. A type of sage, it covers the western American lands with a yellow carpet that last into mid-October. That's when the winds come to blow all the leaves away, leaving the cottonwoods to stand twisted and gnarled as if being tortured. Snow may wait until November or even December, but the rabbitbrush blooms like clockwork.
I know when the warmer seasons are coming because my joints ache less, and my headaches improve. It's happening right now and it is always brilliant when I notice it.
It rains in the winter here. I know spring is coming when the rain stops and I can go on my favorite trail again and reach this magical point on the trail where the sun filters through the trees and shines on the stream. It’s like being at an altar. I wrote about invitations today and loved reading this, Candace!
I know spring is around the corner when daffodils and grape hyacinths pop up. I love seeing the yellow and purple together in my mom’s yard.
I love that cherry blossom drawing!!! Are you going to make a file downloadable as an option citing you as the creator of course?
The coming of spring is the sound of Sandhill Cranes migrating overhead - reptilian and otherworldly.
I recognise the arrival of Autumn here in Auckland, by the dipping of temperatures, the stacking of firewood, and the most spectacular sunset skies of orange, pink and mauve 🧡💗💜 Usually it elicits an inner sense of sadness and loss, this year I find it comforting as the external world seems to come more into alignment with the internal world. Summer is no longer taunting me for being in a bubble of hibernation.
Lol. I tell time by my miniature horses! Spring is shedding season number one when the winter coat starts coming out in handfuls! All over! Summer is when it’s too hot for what coat is left over so the get body clipped. Again, hair is all over! Fall is shedding season number two when the summer coat sheds out and the winter coat starts growing in and the hair gets longer. Hair kinda still gets everywhere, just not as much. Winter is when they are fuzzy teddy bears with thick hair and finally, no hair on me. We’ve just started shedding right now. Wheeeeeee! 😂
Navy darkness is replaced with sun rises, pink and peach, before most others are awake. It's a precious time. Just me, the golden dawn and a cup of tea.