Season of Light

IMG_4754[Parliament Of Wolves]

It has arrived, the light I mean; daylight savings is a glorious time.  It means I can head out at six o’clock with the dogs to run or walk on the mountain while that amazing 24k light is pouring itself out heavily on the earth, molten and redemptive.  If it wasn’t so beautiful, I would feel affronted, or if I was wicked in my soul I would feel found out by it.  It’s that kind of light.  I know the light aims to bless, so I receive it as such; take up the wild rush of it as though I am drinking it, savage with thirst– I drink it up like a wild woman.

We are already hurtling towards the summer solstice.  Night is in decay while day grows robust and long.  I never get tired of these big shifts!  They’re tremendously energizing.  Just when I think I have nothing left to give our planet begins to tilt in a new direction and I feel it with every bone in my body, even the tiny bones, the anvils and stirrups in my ears seem to ring with the heaven of it all.

I sat with the dogs in the sagebrush tonight, simply sat, alone and happy as the sun did its setting and night began to take back the sky.  The dogs were digging for voles, running wild and kicking the dust off their heels.  I can’t remember thinking about anything important, I was more concerned with simply laying with the land and taking it in with my senses.

I spent most of my day at the computer, tippity tapping with my blunt little fingertips, editing images, submitting this and that.  It was a productive day, though I have nothing truly tangible to show for my time and effort.

I suppose that’s why I just sat there in the sun and sage tonight.  More often than not, I feel ruined by technology — dumbed and dulled by it.  Sitting out in the dirt and wind helps me to take myself back and allows for an indwelling of the senses which is where true aliveness resides for me.


Life is beginning to get crazy here.  The fire season always makes everything crazy.  Right about now is when I buckle up and hold on tight.  There’s nothing that can be done about the insanity of pre-season.  It must be so easy for people, for couples, who live near the base they work out of, but for us, it’s complete chaos from now until we arrive in the Methow Valley.

I am finding that this season will take more intention and attention from us which is difficult when plans have to be made last minute (that’s just how fire is, terribly last minute).  How do you prepare to sell a house and move your life and a small business to a different state in an Airstream trailer when everything is so darn last minute?  I don’t know how we do it.  All our important dates are laid out like glass shards in dirt, janky and hazardous, prone to shifting in the breeze.  We’re trying to get a grip, but we don’t know on what.  We’re all cut up by attempting to set it in order.

If I could change anything about this fire life of ours, I would make things less last minute.  It’s my only true complaint. I never feel like I get to say goodbye.  Hellos catch me off guard.  My very self teeters wildly for months on end.  I’m tippy with the undependable nature of wildfire and everything that comes with it.

Despite all the impending chaos, I am going to have a completely ridiculous day in the studio tomorrow after a little time off and a few days of concentrated computing.  I can feel it in my bones.  Something good is coming.  The very thought of it makes me stand up straighter, with my palms lifted to the sky, ready to receive and ready to give until I’m all gived out.

Buckle up, buttercups.  It is the season of light.


:::Post Scriptus:::

Robbie is coming home on Monday.  He’s been away six weeks.  I am happy.  I am happy!

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  1. Jillian, your words and images just pierce through my soul, as they always do, though maybe particularly so today. Oh yes this light is “molten and redemptive” and this recent tilt of the Earth feels indeed like rebirth, like grace.

    “More often than not, I feel ruined by technology — dumbed and dulled by it. Sitting out in the dirt and wind helps me to take myself back and allows for an indwelling of the senses which is where true aliveness resides for me.”

    Amen. I wish there was some bare earth and actual leaves up here for me to reconnect with my wild self. Thank you for allowing me to do so through your offering :o)

    Et bonnes retrouvailles with Robert… My own love lives across the Ocean, so I can relate!

  2. good morning, Beauty! I wish you many gladsome hours in your studio today. it is a glorious morning in which all the details seem so clearly defined and the colors so vivid. I think I’ll go outside and spend some time with a certain lovely broodmare, untangling her weather-beaten tumbledown braids and beginning to pull off some of the long, thick coat which has served her well this brutal winter. and I shall think of you sawing and hammering, making beautiful things, and when the 24K hour comes again may we both reflect happily on how we have put the sun’s energy to good work for this day. xoxo

  3. The first photo….haunting. Beautiful.
    Enjoy your time with your husband. You’ve both earned it.

  4. o you wolf, you….
    your words are so golden. i just want to fold up this entire post and tuck it into my pocket, hold it against my heart.

    so pleased that robert is coming home to you. i’m sure you will simply melt into his arms….


  5. oh those puppy butts in the air, tails perked and alert. love it. i know it’s not much to say, but if anyone can handle that wild rollercoaster of activity, it is you. and i know you’ll come out all the brighter on the other side of it.

  6. I love that hat!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and I am happy that you are going to be reunited with your husband, have a great week-end and good luck for packing…

  7. You are right you know, the season of light is now. It is golden. Your words are golden, you write so beautifully, painting pictures with the tip of your pen.

    It’s strange to think the images of Scout or the golden glimpses of Bannock through your lense will be coming to a close. But we all must move on I suppose-to better things.

    I found your site years ago after searching for images of Scout. I quickly found that you moved to Pokey as I was departing. At times I thought of us passing one another on IH15-you headed north and I south. Me reaching out to pass off a baton of sagebrush to you. That fleeting moment of new beginnings for one and an end for another. But you kept it alive for me and I thank you for that.

  8. So nice to have the fields around to be able to disappear amongst it all…I feel the same about technology…I feel the way you feel about your move almost everyday of my life, and I don’t know why. Glad you said it so beautifully…I ask for courage every day. I always remind myself to enjoy it all…Enjoy dearest J. ox

  9. The look on your face is precious.
    And yeah, that hat. 🙂

  10. Just as I started to read this at my kitchen table, the clouds parted and, the sun appeared with such a bright intensity as if a switch was lifted! I am smiling…and as I sit, with windows open to a cluster of tree tops, birds are singing their Spring songs & children are squealing with energetic joy! This seasonal shift moves within and all around us, lifting our hearts & brightening our souls. Growth lies ahead, journeys take shape & dreams are created. And although I sit at my kitchen table, reading your poetic post, I feel as if I am right t.h.e.r.e. with you, sitting in the sage, your bright light within & all around me. I love how you have that magic… Xo

  11. So good to see life again in that potent new light.
    As dizzying as it might be!
    Coming back into balance with it, and with the seasonal shift,
    is ever so life-affirming!

  12. Your words and thoughts truly inspire, thank you so much for sharing.

  13. Lovely lover loveliness!

  14. Mashed potatoes says:

    Oh *sigh*
    Another beautiful & lovely post to read. So happy Robert is finally coming back soon!
    About your top photo in the fox hat- YOU ARE HILARIOUS!!! That photo is one of the reasons I love you soooooooo. xo

  15. I love your writings….the way you think and see things, It’s beautiful! Thanks for sharing light in more than one way!

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