Winter Newsletter: Noticing Through Shifting Lenses

Spring—it has arrived early in the Pacific NW, at least where I live. Or maybe it is because I walk Joey the Pug twice a day I have time to “micro notice” the subtle changes of the season. And my noticing changes depending on weather, Sun and Moon’s position in the sky, time of day, what I’ve been reading/watching/listening to, my body’s strength (or aches,) Joey and my pace, etc. Slowing down though, has been essential.

Daffodils began blooming in early February. In my likely faulty recollection is it is usually March before they truly bedazzle gardens and roadsides. Winter birds songs have shifted from rehearsal to full-on symphony mode. The House Finches are back flitting from the barely budding Dogwood to the birdbath on my deck and I am guessing nest building is well underway in anticipation of mating season.

Spring Newsletter: Noticing What Is Emerging

Magnolias announced Spring a hare’s breath before Japanese and other flowering Cherries in the Pacific NW. Magnolias, holding tight to their magic in fuzzy bud scale-tipped twigs waited until the perfect moment. It was an overnight awakening after a spat of short-sleeved weather that splayed the white-bright petals out like a child’s rendition of a tissue-paper star. A sweet aroma enticed me to breathe deep. Cherries, not to be outdone, have erupted like small firework displays on their branches. Pompoms clustered like small fists ready to punch wonder into my Winter addled brain.

Anne Richardson

March 3, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Connection, Covid-19, dementia, disenfranchised grief, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Literacy, Hope, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Newsletter, spiriutal companionship, Winter, professional presentation

Winter Newsletter: Footfalls On The Journey—Shifting Landscapes Shift Perspectives

Anne Richardson

March 3, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Connection, Covid-19, dementia, disenfranchised grief, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Literacy, Hope, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Newsletter, spiriutal companionship, Winter, professional presentation

Ah February in the Pacific NW. Our mild winter faked us out with a few warm spring-like days earlier in the month. This is typical. A few bulbs poke up. Trees start budding and a few have even bloomed some years, though at least this year the cherries didn’t. Wise those cherries. We are giddy with visions of lighter jackets and warmer days.

Then cold swept in with an unexpectedly large gathering of snow in the lowlands. Caught the weather-folk by surprise as well as the evening commuters on a recent Wednesday. Portland recorded 10-12” in some neighborhoods. My higher elevation abode had about 10”. It turned into an icy mess once the snow thawed a bit and refroze. All the headlines read “snowapocalypse”and folks in the midwest rolled their eyes I’m sure. Now this is typical…a “false” spring followed by more “wintery mixes,” but we are a hopeful bunch in the Pacific NW (or forgetful) and think each year will be different.

Anne Richardson

May 9, 2022

Ancestral Journey, Belonging, Covid-19, dementia, Gestations, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Pilgrimage, Seasons, Sojourn, Stillness

Lessons from the Pandemic: Unsettled Grief—Where do we go from here?

Anne Richardson

May 9, 2022

Ancestral Journey, Belonging, Covid-19, dementia, Gestations, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Pilgrimage, Seasons, Sojourn, Stillness

Wee birds have created three nests outside my apartment. Three! One on the wreath attached to my front door. Two are on the deck in hanging pots. Juncos have taken up residency, voicing annoyance with every coming and going. I tap on the door before exiting, tug slowly on the handle and apologize to the small body complaining on the railing, railing at my disturbance. When I return home, I see a small head poking out of the nest. I wave my hand “hello,” and the mama flies out and sizes me up, assess the situation. Will I try to harm her eggs? What tack should she take? Attack? Opening the door, I slip inside. I want to retrieve my step stool and peek at the eggs, but that seems like an intrusion. They need nurturing. Warmth, not peering. So I leave them be, though I can’t resist snapping a quick photo before she returns.

Anne Richardson

March 23, 2022

Beauty, Covid-19, dementia, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Healing, Hope, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, Grief Literacy

Lessons from the Pandemic: Stories Grief Weaves

Anne Richardson

March 23, 2022

Beauty, Covid-19, dementia, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Healing, Hope, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, Grief Literacy

Spring has begun in earnest in the Pacific Northwest. Daffodils are in yellow and orange abundance. Plum and cherry trees blushing to life. And Daphne’s aroma intoxicating for blocks on end. Blue sky, dry days are joy, sun warming Earth and skin. Rain is gentle, coming and going as tide. We need each drop to recover from a lingering drought. That the rain falling off-and-on this week without a storm’s full-on bluster is gift. No flooding.

Spring’s energy has been rising for weeks and after two years of all the upheaval Covid has wrought, there is a giddiness in the air of hope that the worse is behind us, even as more chapters are being written. At least that is what the birds are singing. Or…it is mating season?

Lessons from the Pandemic: Unsettled Grief—Where do we go from here?

Lessons from the Pandemic: Stories Grief Weaves

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