prozac

during the tax filing season, when my husband is in his office 12 hours a day, and his tax clients come filing through every hour and a half, i sometimes start dinner in the middle of the afternoon, in order to fill the house with a little moist heat and some hearth smells. based on this experience, i can’t tell you how universally the smell of sauteeing garlic and onions works as a human tranquilizer. no one is ever that happy to be coming to do their taxes. yet almost every time, they step in out of the cold, smell garlic, onions, and olive oil, and soften visibly. they just stand inside the front door, and spend a second or two in the moment, aware of the beautiful smell. then they always ask, “what are you cooking?” “prozac,” i say. “i’m cooking prozac.”

garlic

saint paul farmers market, minnesota

old friends

today was a snowy, sleety day and i hadn’t yet built up my winter tolerance for such nonsense. so instead of a long walk, i went down to the cattail bed in our back yard, prepared to take a serviceable but maybe a little bit boring photo of a very familiar subject. but that’s the thing about old friends. no matter how often you see them, they always come through.

late october cattails

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota

winter’s lace

the ongoing pressure of a daily practice makes moments like this happen. in my former life i would have said, “oh, look: how cool is that half melted ice?” in my STILL blog life, i say, oh my god that may not happen again for 5 years. where’s my camera?

ice and autumn leaves

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota

a matter of perspective

yes it’s harvest season, and these resemble sheaves of wheat and october tables with gourds on them. but my very first thought was, “subatomic particle traces in a collider.”

northern tall grass seed heads

in transition

there is summer in me yet, although i am in full fall color. i sometimes endure an abrupt visit from winter, but, for now, it always melts away.

snow covered maple leaf

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota