Catherine Eaton

I went off trail in the forest to see what I could find.
Up a ridge I found an old glass vial with a whole ecosystem growing within.

You too! I find it wild how this happens and with that book in particular.

Death Valley superbloom! www.accuweather.com/en/leisure-r...

I love the book but I didn’t the first time I read it. A friend who had taught Wuthering Heights in high school classes for 20+ years talked me into reading it again. Her insights and analysis opened the book up for me and I enjoyed it. I still remember that shock. Great teachers are amazing.

People have been struggling to cope with Wuthering Heights ever since it came out in 1847.

at the edge of still blackwater waterways in the evergreened sanctuary forest the last snow laces limb and grass in linear and mirrored holding

before spring

René Magritte
Le Bon Signe (The Good Omen/Sign)

Thin hoar frost is lit by the sun when it gilds a dead poplar leaf and some branches.

Thick rime crystals coat the right side of the bare branches of a shrub. It is lit by the setting sun. The crystals are at least an inch long.

Fluffy rime coast the needles of a spruce tree on a foggy morning.

My annual post about the difference between hoar frost and rime.

Hoar: water vapour transforms directly into frost (deposition). Happens when it's clear and cold and the crystals are small.

Rime: water vapour in the ice forms ice. Happens when warm and foggy. Much longer and long-lived crystals

I've been wondering that myself.

Now there you go. There has to be an art to that. Particularly with wet snow--if only so you don't die.

Large flagstone steps lead down to the blue-hued river. It's lined by ice and a few ducks.

Winter is receding a little. Just a little.

The most mysterious Olympic winter sport: ice dancing. Closely followed by curling.

an angel with large wings uplifted on a pink background, she is balancing two orbs in an alchemical way.

[Temperance tarot card by Leonora Carrington]

I'm down to two layers and madly thinking about spring.

The weather's gotten warm enough that I no longer have to wear three layers indoors.

Yes, a few things! You as well?

I read this poem by him this morning. Robins are indeed well worth contemplating

Excellent! 💚

They like it well-drained so I did something like normal soil mixed with a little bit of cactus potting mix.

Bright magenta cyclamen

I repotted this (and with better soil for a cyclamen) and it has rewarded me in the middle of winter. Plants are top-notch.

Winter is so good for that.

I'll keep an eye out then.

It's been so unexpectedly charming. Just like this chapter. I have over a hundred pages left yet that still feels too miserably little

From Orhan Pamuk's Book of Red CHAPTER 47 I, SATAN I AM FOND OF the smell of red peppers frying in olive oil, rain falling into a calm sea at dawn, the unexpected appearance of a woman at an open window, silences, thought and patience. I believe in myself, and, most of the time, pay no mind to what's been said about me. Tonight, however, I've come to this coffeehouse to set my miniaturist and calligrapher brethren straight about certain gossip, lies and rumors. Of course, because I'm the one speaking, you're already prepared to believe the exact opposite of what I say. But you're smart enough to sense that the opposite of what I say is not always true, and though you might doubt me, you're astute enough to take an interest in my words: You're well aware that my name, which appears in the Glorious Koran fifty-two times, is one of the most frequently cited.

I wasn't expecting this chapter in My Name is Red yet here it is. I'll be sad when this book is over.

Reem! 💛 I see your book posts float by sometimes and hope you have been doing well! Do you have a link or list for your upcoming read-along this year?

Stone steps leading down to a partially frozen river. The open unfrozen parts are a dark blue.

The river was such a deep dark blue today.

"There is nothing you can see that is not a flower;
There is nothing you can think that is not the moon." ― Basho Matsuo (tr. R.H.Blyth)

(image: Hoitsu Sakai)

Western view from the Sister Bay Marina Boathouse overlooking Sister Bay Marina, Sister Bay and Green Bay beyond. // Image captured at: 2026-02-03 21:36:07 UTC (about 1 min. prior to this post) // Image sourced from: sisterbay.com/sunset-camera/ // Current Temp in Sister Bay: 16.25 F | -8.75 C // Precip: overcast clouds // Wind: NNW at 9.216 mph | 14.83 kph // Humidity: 62%

Current* conditions near Sister Bay, WI:

I like this idea of an anti-psalm. And I have no idea what it is either! but I'm into it.

She is seated in the wicker armchair, its base softened with cushions. With Lili at her feet. - My daughter, my Lili. The two of them huddled together. Thunder, lightning flashes, rumblings, crashings, clappings, distancings, the mistral let loose, the mistral stunned, choked, thwarted, lurking in the corner of banked clouds. The sky disfigured. Water tromping. The fig tree in the garden bent double. - Thank heavens, my Lili, that you and me, you the daughter and me the mother, we love each other in life and can shelter here together in this good and gentle Provençale house. The calm hour strikes inside the house as, outside, the storm grumbles on. Why, Lili, you're crying! Why are you crying? Lili is crying. And outside the storm has moved off, the wind abated, the rain sated, the fig tree righted. But still, Lili is crying. Hélène Bessette, Lili is Crying (transl. Kate Briggs

An electrifying start to Bessette's Lili is Crying #AContinuation