Lois Reynolds Mead

Art and a pink monkeyflower in a native plant garden…

Paying attention…

Leave a comment


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.


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


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s