A rainy Monday

This was a fairly wet Monday. I had been seeing this view for about a month before I thought to capture it. It is much prettier when the sun is peeking through the fog (you can see it at the top of the frame), and I'm sure I'll take more of this view, but the river was a beautifully curving mirror and I cannot help but share it.
















Having moved from Minnesota where it freezes hard and often, we don't have this symbiotic tree relationship happening... or not that I have ever seen to this extent. It's like a second Spring in the Autumn after the leaves turn gold and fall, and we see the tree's lingerie. It is never completely gray here.

nothing....but a plain horse and waggon on Mulberry Street.

"And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street" was one of my favorite books when I was a small Ole. I know I read it more than a number of times, for I too was an imaginative child in a fairly mundane world. I once convinced a classmate that my Aunt M and Uncle D had a lion on their farm (preposterous, we all lived in Minnesota).

I told stories to myself at the top of my lungs while mowing the lawn (a chore I detested), and sang, and made off like I was receiving a Grammy. I don't think that this imaginative streak has changed much, but I am not trying to convince friends of imaginary lions any longer.

Currently, I am a 40ish business woman in a creative field. I've recently moved from Minnesota to a place that has instantly felt like home in Oregon. I adore where I live. However, everyone has days when they doubt themselves, when they feel like where they are now is not where they belong. In an effort to remind myself of the beauty of the now, I am posting photos of my drive to work, of things I see on my back and forth drive, or at events that I attend while at work. There is beauty in this mundane, and I do not need to invent elephants, or in my case, lions.