Monday, November 05, 2012

storm...

Untitled

Storm in abstract

breakthrough

Last week I was exhausted, having worked much of the previous weekend too. A cold was tickling at the edges and then overtook me, and I couldn't wait for Friday to roll around. I made great claims on social media that the stormy forecast meant I would be happily curled up on the couch for the duration, guilt free. But I guess when it comes down to it, I'm not that kind of girl.

Turns out I'm the kind of girl to head out into the wild just before the storm reaches its full strength. The kind of girl to go stalking tree to tree to sneak up on the deer laying out in the open field, where they bed down on windy days when the trees swoosh and shudder and muffle all other noise, so that no one can sneak up on them, in fact. Out in the open, the newest big buck on the block watched me steadily but still let me creep in close as he tucked his hooves underneath him but stayed bedded down. His second in command lay nearby, and a scattering of does and fawns dotted the grass, while a few more only revealed themselves as my eyes adjusted to the shadows under the nearby bushes. A flick of movement and a large pileated woodpecker works its way up one of the trees edging the field. The wind was a howl around us, fading leaves rattling as with their last gasp they clung to the weather-beaten trees.

Turns out I'm the kind of girl to walk into the gusts of the southeaster along the shore of the bay. Watch the clouds race across the sky and block out the mountain peaks for yet another day. Purposeful waves wash in to the beach even on this 'protected' stretch, and I know there is a snarl of water waiting on the other side of the spit. My spirit races from the energy of it all, even as my head tucks low from the cold wind that find my ears through my thick wool toque. I turned back into the woods, boots crunching through swirling leaves on the path as thick trunks creaked overhead.

Turns out I'm the kind of girl to linger, even has the sky turns abruptly black at two in the afternoon, as the squall becomes a bit more determined and the raindrops a bit closer together. Okay, a lot closer together.  A last detour to spend a few fleeting moments with the hooved dancers again, maybe catch a glimpse of that eight-point buck spotted the day before. But even the deer have moved under cover in this weather, and I stand with a few stragglers nuzzling for acorns under the carpet of leaves. With a last big inhale of the wild air I head home in the rain, finding the couch finally.

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So, it's November then, and the clocks have changed. This morning was greeted with bright sunshine, but I know the workday will end in darkness. Weekday after work walks are suddenly a dying breed around here. While I look toward the next weekend, maybe the increase in inside time will be good on the crafting front. This year feels like a big wash on that front (actually on a lot of fronts...). Since the forced hiatus following my injury at the very start of the year, despite fits and starts I feel like I've never really found my stride again. My inspiration has fled into other activities. How do you find your crafting inspiration? And for that matter, how do you get your fresh air quota when balancing life and work in the dark days of winter?



9 comments:

Barbara Prime said...

I often find my inspiration in the middle of a yoga class, when my mind slips a little from the moment, and an idea that wasn't quite formed blossoms into just what I want to work on.
AS for the fresh air and sun, they can be a little precious here in Montreal during the winter. My strategy is to enjoy them when I can for as long as I can. If it's -20 C, I dress for the weather. If it's a busy day, I analyze my priorities, and often decide that 15 minutes outside is more important than a lot of other things.
I wish you the best of luck in finding your centre again!

Margie Oomen said...

i think the answer is to wake up really early, predawn and get moving. I know easier said than done but hey I think in another life I could have been a farmer.

Rachel said...

I'm that kind of girl too.

I, too, struggle with lacking creativity at times (now for example) and I've never figured out a way to force the issue. It always comes back in due time and I've learned to be content with it. I have more flexibility with my job that I can head out mid-day when the light is still out...but maybe start each day with a walk no matter the conditions or time. You may not get photographs but you'd start the day with fresh air.

kate on the island said...

Me and the younger boy were out in the rain on Sunday, it just feels so right!

Outside always brings me inspiration. A dog helps with that in winter, although there are days even he doesn't want to go out further than off the back deck!

leFiligree said...

if it helps, i havent been getting my fresh air nor my craft on, not like i'd like! so i take a brisk walk at lunchtime around the nasty industrial sector, and i knit while unwinding mentally in front of the TV. i go out on the weekends into the marsh...i'll let you know when i've come to terms with it. :)

beachiesews said...

My inside time is the summer. I live in Arizona and we have a summer hibernation season. I crave fresh (and cool) air, open windows and just being outside and not miserable! I take crafting breaks and just wait it out...then it all comes back and I feel centered again.

grackleandsun said...

<3 Love this post.

Dawn Suzette said...

Love your description of the storm K. I love your kinda gal!
Making certainly has an ebb and flow in my world. I have not figured out all of the shifting variables just yet. Putting myself out there with volunteering to give a presentation of simple gift ideas certainly kicked my making into high gear.
Teaching/sharing with others always inspires me.
And inspiration does tend to strike while I am outside chopping wood for the morning fire...
I know two kiddos who are rooting on your making mojo! You know they love your creations!

rebecca said...

i always *heart* your pictures of the ocean.