Lois Reynolds Mead

Art and a pink monkeyflower in a native plant garden…

Paying attention…

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II.

Friday and Saturday were filled with two workshops on sketching with John Muir Laws and then his key-note address was Saturday night. Sunday was for applying new skills of observation as we went up to a small forest in Cambria for a mushroom walk. Mushroom names eluded me, however.

Even a banana slug eating a top off a mushroom!

Sunday evening was another of those sunsets (the weather for the weekend was perfect).

Monday we took one more tour around the rock, putting some images into our memory banks until next year’s festival.

Breakage

by Mary Oliver

I go down to the edge of the sea.

How everything shines in the morning light!

The cusp of the whelk,

the broken cupboard of the clam,

the opened, blue mussels,

moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred—

and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split,

dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone.

It’s like a schoolhouse

of little words,

thousands of words.

First you figure out what each one means by itself,

the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop

full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

Old Man By the Sea

Author: loisreynoldsmead

artist

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