Moonstruck Musings of A Painter

The sun has finally burned away the chills of a cold winter, and gilded pine needles whisper rumors of summer to poplar leaves above me. Last night the whippoorwill sang so hard and fast I feared he would burst in a feathery explosion of wildly mad, lust-driven song. I hope it was enough for the object of his affection. This morning Pee Wee sounds annoyed with his calling of the daylight. My hummingbirds' buzzing eclipses the many bumblebees boring into the railings of the cabin, and far below my mountain top are the faint echoes of traffic. Nearly every morning the same two deer graze on shrubbery nearby. Yesterday the little red doe tiptoed down my driveway as though she were stopping by for a cup of tea. This illusion was shattered though as my ever vigilant guardian, Anubis, burst from his feigned sleep and bounded after her baying like a hound from hell. Ah well. He's only protecting me after all, and she must seem strange to him with her big eyes and flicking ears. Str...

My dear dear friends, I have been terrible at staying up to date with all of you. I miss writing, and reading all of your blogs. Right now, except for rare occasions, I truly am off grid Internet-wise. I can't get it at my little rental cabin, and my vision is not doing so great, so blogging on my phone is difficult. I write this, though, while snuggled into my moms couch (she has wifi) after a wonderful weekend. On Saturday two of my sisters, nieces, nephews, brother in law, mom, and a bull mastiff/pit puppy went to a local historical landmark festival. At this same place just last week, sis and I attended our docent training to be trail guides and curators for a private dinner nature preserve with a popular hiking trail on it. It really struck a nerve with me. I was stirred by the fact that species on this mountain don't exist anywhere else. It is a truly sacred place. It's called Ice Mountain in North River Mills, West Virginia. I look forward to studying and becoming mo...