Remembering special times

I had such an excellent time in a writing group this morning.  The pieces that I wrote to two of our prompts -- well, I captured them in a word file so I can share them here.

My thoughts resonated with me as I read them again and retyped my longhand prose.

 

pressed flowers saved

what I'd written on the back of the framed image, discovered after I'd written my piece.

These framed images were the subject of my reflections, which I include below.

I would describe myself as someone with a green thread that has strung the days of my life together.  Nature and green has been been part of the landscape that call and grounds.  Streams, mountains, forest, lake and sky – boulders, wildflowers, mosses, and ferns.  These make up the heartscape that surrounds me and calls me back when I’m away.

Traveling by air is a consummate detour from those places – a steel tube with recirculated air, not a scrap of green to sooth the soul or refresh the air.  And often, no natural light is permitted.  It glares on the screen, the flight attendant fusses, uncaring of my need for “real” light.

The importance of learning what circumstances, places, and surroundings make me feel most at home are part of the growth and awareness of self, understanding that from a deeper aspect.

The objects that surround me in my studio reflect that essential self – art pieces that I’ve created, pieces that others have done, favorite tins, vintage wooden boxes holding treasures and small mementos, and the laminated leaves on my old antique letter box.

A cast dragonfly. A whimsical dried flower wreath. A California poppy pressed, now over 40 years ago.

This was a bit of writing to a second prompt.

The pressed California poppy that hangs on my studio wall is special. It holds story and meaning, from a Point Reyes excursion long ago. It was at least forty years ago, probably longer ago than that.

Other plants with meaning adjoined it – my research subject and another flower, now unrecognizable.

I remembered this as a gift to my mom back then, a thank you for her support. She’s been gone a long time now, so these framed pressed flowers have been part of my life since, reminding me of California, a past life.  It hangs beneath a framed Mt. Shasta fruit crate label, equally echoing the special place that Northern California holds in my heart.

There are many other special places, too, echoed in the objects that surround me here in my studio. They speak to me.