rasberries and roses

These pictures were taken on my last ramble through the woods before leaving home, two weeks ago. Woodland brambles tipped with red are one of Maryland's earliest signs of spring awakening. It makes me happy to think these buds will become raspberries and roses by the time I return.

Homemaking

There are few things in life that make me happier than creating a cozy nest, so these past two months have been a true luxury.

Mama and I wove this egg basket together on her birthday this past January.

Amy and I designed this two part stencel.

I drew and cut the shapes. Amy picked and mixed the tonal colors.

We tag-teamed the paint job.

All the Merrick women had a hand in designing these curtains for the living room. I was lucky to have the time to work out the pattern and sew up the final product.

Mom was so happy with her curtains that I put together a variation on the same theme for the dining room.

sunlight in february

It's a balmy fifty-five degrees outside my family's home in Maryland. The thick blanket of snow, that has covered the ground since Christmas, is lifting into the air and sinking into the soil. I woke up to mist so thick the whole world became a white haze. I decided to take a walk with the old beagle dog. Putting on rubber boots, coat and shawl, we tramped off through the woods together.

Our feet splashed through frozen slush, and from time to time, patches of earth at the base of a tree, would reveal a hint of green moss or ivy which outlasted the snow's icy shroud. When we reached the bay the sun was shining bright. The mist cleared. I took a seat on top of an old wooden pick nick table, warmed in the afternoon sun. I was so flushed from the briskness of our walk that I felt compelled to take off my coat and wool sweater. Then through some strange impulse, I took off my boots and socks too.

No one was in sight except for the good old dog. I could see for miles down the shoreline. So, with the Chesapeake bay before me and the snowy white world behind, I did a series of sun salutations, right on the pick nick table. There is nothing more delightful than to move and breathe in the open air. I kept my eyes wide open through the postures breathing in the sights of the world. The steel gray water and wispy clouds, snowy earth and gray tree trunks turned upside down as I stretched in the sunshine. And before I knew it I was turning pirouettes on the wooden table top. At last, it was time to come back down to earth. I put on my coat and shoes, whistled for the beagle and trudged my way back to realty, but with a light heart and a fully nourished spirit.

frolic architecture of the snow

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,

Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,Seems nowhere to alight: the whited airHides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.

The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet

Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit

Around the radiant fireplace, enclosedIn a tumultuous privacy of storm.

Come see the north wind's masonry.

Out of an unseen quarry evermoreFurnished with tile, the fierce artificerCurves his white bastions with projected roofRound every windward stake, or tree, or door.

Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work

So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he for number or proportion.

Mockingly, On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;

A swan-like form invests the hiddden thorn;Fills up the famer's lane from wall to wall,

Maugre the farmer's sighs; and at the gateA tapering turret overtops the work.

And when his hours are numbered, and the world

Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,

Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished ArtTo mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,

Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,The frolic architecture of the snow.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Snowstorm

1835 [1841]

On Christmas night snow came, a ticklish, caressing kind of snow. The kind that brushes your cheek for a moment, before settling down to melt into your skin, crystalline flakes catching the light, catching the wind, swirling and sparkling like tiny shards of glass glitter through the trees. Overnight the snow built it's crystal castles and offered it's wild creation up to the day, but as quickly as the sky built this frolic architecture, with equal speed it starts to melt away.

(Amy's depiction of our Merry Merrick Christmas is so sweet, give it a read!)