New Year’s Eve brought a rainy, gloomy day.

Tonight, we’ll be listening to streaming music from Cafe Lena In Saratoga. We will read, talk, and maybe even meditate on the New Year. I like to think a little about what I wish to happen next year. Once in a while, that even comes true. I prayed for love 12 years ago and met Maria the next day.

I think there is something to imagining what you wish to happen.

You have to wonder sometimes. I thought today was a challenge to find some color (above) and art (see below.) Beauty is everywhere, and it’s the job of the artist to look for it, find it, and share it. I’ll be writing in the morning, but I wish everyone a peaceful, quiet, and safe New Year’s Eve and a happy new year.

I’ll see you in the morning.

Barns are intrinsically beautiful to me; they are natural places and tell the story of the people who live there and have lived here before us. In every barn, there are precious old things that tell a story.

 

Love is the best thing. Our dirty windowpane in the barn says it all.

It was raining heavily; the Imperious Hens moved their morning meeting into the barn, where they often hold court. I gave them some mealworms, but they blew me off.

I don’t know what’s inside this cabinet, is it ours or has it been there for years? Maria usually knows. I do love the feeling and the cover of it.

I love Maria’s feeder; it sits right outside of her studio and is the Grand Central Station of feeders. The other day, a migrant hawk dove it to get one of the birds, but he flew into the window by mistake and was stunned.

He flew away, we won’t see him again, and the birds were all delicate.