Thoughts of spring

Deep in the heart of winter, there lay within me an invincible spring.

~Camus






I have just returned from the southern US,
land of sunshine, live oaks, and palm trees.
My own part of the world is being held still
in winter's grasp.
There is no snow here...
only bitter cold.

And I am craving spring.




These gorgeous rooms from Pottery Barn will just
have to get me by,
with heaps of warm cream,
nature-inspired pillows,
potted plants,
and lots of light to help brighten my spirits.





Hoping your Sunday is filled with warmth and brightness,
despite the chill in the air.





Until next time...
Anne

Bonaventure Cemetery

Broken, though, this wing may be,
the spirit soars,
high above the earthly plain
into castles of air,
bathed in light,
and propelled toward love.





If the cemeteries of New Orleans are the "cities of the dead,"

Bonaventure Cemetery just outside Savannah, Georgia,

must surely be one garden of the dead.






Some say that life began in a garden.

Here in Bonaventure, it ends in one as well.

Live oaks draped in Spanish moss stand like sentinels,

watching over the carefully tended plots.

Holly bushes, ornamental grasses, southern magnolias,

and a variety of succulents take root in the sandy soil

to provide additional structure and screening.

This is a place of remembrance and reverence for life

that has gone before.

I have long been a visitor of cemeteries,

always liking the serenity the proffered

and the sense that, despite the passing of life and time,

there remains a continuity in these unstoppable events.

Just as change is the one constant,

there is a continuous flow

of life after life, of time marching forward.

Wandering through a cemetery, I sense that

I play a part in this eternal movement forward,

if only for a brief flash in the earth's history.

And rather than feeling fear of the inevitable,

I find peace.

Wishing you peace in those moments of paradox.

Until next time...
Anne

Romancing the rental

There is no sweeter place than home,

where we rise to greet each day,

where we warm our selves from winter's cold,

where we nourish body and spirit,

where we return when we are weary and afraid.

Home is the only place Dorothy wished to be,

despite all the adventures and wonder that lay before her.

Indeed there is no place like it.







Welcome to a new home I can call my own.

It is a rental in town, quite a departure from

the country house that I occupied for 15 years.

It sits on a brick street lined with a variety

of old houses.

The oldest part of the house dates from 1853---

yes, there is wavy glass in those windows!

An enclosed porch extends a warm greeting

to all who enter.





Just inside the door lies the living room.

You may recognize some items from my

previous home. In fact, nothing here is new,

although the rooms dictate different arrangements.





Of course I am constantly playing with the placement of things.

The living room has changed several times since I first moved in.






This doorway leads to the second floor,

a walk-up attic bedroom.

I like the way the stairs have a European feel

to them, with the door being positioned part way up them.

Three cats share this home with me.






The kitchen is one huge, open room.

There is nothing fancy here, just a plain old

farmhouse style kitchen.

It does not suit my taste or aesthetic,

but it is functional and the colors are now

neutral, so I am able to live with that.

More images will follow after I return from

a trip to the southland.

This morning I am in beautiful Savannah, Georgia

for another day of taking in art, architecture, great food,

and warm weather.

Happy new year to all!

May 2011 bring you a wealth of possibilites.

Until next time...
Anne