because this is the most colorful fall season i can remember, i have begun returning from my walks with a standard warning: “i’m bringing more nature into the house!” my kitchen floor may or may not still be covered with ceramic tile, but no one will know until i remove about a dozen armloads of leaves, branches, bark, grasses, fungi, seed pods, wild fruits, feathers, pine cones, rocks, birds nests, wasp nests, and at least one dead red bellied snake. all i remember is how i felt last march, when i would have given anything for a spot of color that wasn’t brown or gray. ill take all this color gratefully until it’s gone.
an assemblage of october finds
rice creek, grass lake, and sucker lake hiking trails; saint paul, minnesota
fifteen years ago in what now feels like a previous life, i worked for honeywell inc. on the avionics for the boeing 777. as a result, i spent a lot of time in phoenix arizona, and when i wasn’t at work, i would spend my time driving around the sonoran desert photographing saguaro cacti. i never got used to the very non-organic grid of streets in downtown phoenix, nor the lack of water there, but i still miss those cacti. this mullein is the closest thing we have to those strange, gravity defying spires.
minneapolis alley, minnesota
i am having fun with these assemblages of the bits and pieces of nature that find their way onto my specimen table. for several years i have also fallen under the spell of the (swiss) cross as a design element. i have used it in journal doodles, i have sewn it into pillows, and i have even painted it on canvas. so it is really about time that i did a STILL blog assemblage in the shape of my current favorite graphic.
cross assemblage of october nature bits
saint paul, minnesota
this fern began as a tightly wound little fiddlehead seemingly only days ago, although it was actually last april, almost half a year ago, that i first saw it emerge. today my husband celebrates his 49th birthday. when i met him half a life ago, he was a tightly wound young creature full of self-involvement and promise. he has since unwound into a looser autumn version of himself, without quite losing the shape of his burstingly passionate spring. i’ll take the latest version in all its earned imperfection.
grass lake regional trail, saint paul, minnesota