au revoir

 my dear readers as i tried to make my way into town on the dirt road,  my heart was captured by the beauty of an autumn morning as it found itself engulfed by fog.  as i walked along the road, i tried to notice every leaf and it's colour, every drop of dew and living thing , it all took my breath away. i was captivated by a web jewelled with drops of rain, how i wish i could gift such a thing to my mother, a necklace worthy of the loveliest of heroines. 

i will carry this magical morning to remind me of where i will return too as i make my way to France.  i am leaving in a few days to assist aran and stephanie in the loveliest of places Dordogne, i think it is going to be magical. then i will do what i have craved for so long, return to the streets of paris, where my feet will walk along old cobblestones, step into cafes, sit on park benches and  remember what once was, while making moments i will never forget. i will visit with family members i have never met in person and embrace all the goodness that comes from such an encounter.

 i will miss les animaux i am constantly telling myself that they will be okay(please be okay) because they are in good care. know that i will take you with me for i have never once saw something lovely that i did not whisper "dear readers can you see, i will show you". i will be away for a little while when i return there will be a big threshold to cross, but for now i will just say thank you for being so kind to me your comments i  treasure

au revoir et a bientot! (see you soon)

* the fog is so beautiful and magical here on the hill

warmth comes in many ways.

i stood in the rain making plans with the carpenter for a run in shed for the horse. jeremiah and i walked on long grass till the hems of pants soaked up all the rain to the knees. al though i love the rain,  lately it seems to get into my bones. so i escaped to a cafe, where i knew a wood fire would be burning and it was. i sat there typing, then i admit i could not help ease drop on two couples,  maybe in their seventies. they laughed as they ate peanut butter and jelly on bagels ( i know) and talked about books, film, country roads and rural dark skies. something inside of me smiled, how dear is friendship, how special it is,  how it grows and watches you grow. it made me think of k. who i miss terribly, since he has not been home for over three weeks. i thought if he was here, he would notice the same thing, he would grab my hand under the table and kiss my forehead. i walked to the counter of the cafe and asked the girl behind the counter  for four macarons, asked if she would deliver them to there table anonymously and simple say if asked this is for the belly laughs of friendship. i ran to the restroom so i would not be there when she did so. maybe because i remember when this was done for k and i, tears rolled down my face and my hands began to shake but i knew i was happy for the warmth i now felt, and as for the rain well it did not bother me anymore.

when i got home in noticed bullet at the window, he was talking so loud through the glass, i took my camera out and he reached for me.

*gosh this might sounds like i am boasting but please know it is more wanting to share a special moment one when you realize how growing old with friends, the people you love makes you young and how paying it forward when you unexpectedly are made to feel better  makes you react in a good way.

oh, boy perhaps my explanations is more confusing but i just wanted to share celebrate good things.

two walks and clean floors

today started very early. i wanted to read so i put on some non farm clothes and headed to a cafe. i drove the country roads, realized it was only seven, i waited for the cafe to open, found a cozy chair and finished the book. another novel by willa cather, if only there was more. on my way back i drove down a road i had never been on, it was clear that hurricane irene had been there. once home all i wanted to do is clean, a fall cleaning were cool breezes would mix with freshly washed floors. then i grabbed a sun hat, my basket and walked to the orchard to see if i could reach the remaining pears, i climbed up the trees and managed to reach a few.  how perfect they are, maybe not all would agree at it's non pear shape but knowing i could eat it right off the tree with no worries about where they came from,  made them  perfect. i walked along the forest edge, then into the forest i went, it is lovely, won't anyone come foraging with me. then arrived home,  noticed sophie lying there and knew the girls wanted to walk too, so off we went the other way where deers came running out and then a fox. 

tonight i will make a cozy soup to enjoy after warm shower, perhaps i will put mansfield park on the machine and curl up on the chaise with my knitting needles, what am i making you ask, i have no idea but one day all the pieces i make will be patched together  to make what will surely be the oddest grey blanket.

my heart speaks

often.

 actually my heart is always saying something, most of the time it either cries or sings. sometimes i want my heart to be a little more composed, not so weak, yet it reminds me when i ask it to slow down just a bit it says "you want me your heart to slow down?"  no your right be yourself i say. yesterday while my fingers were cold it decided to remind me of sad tales if i told them to you, you would not think they were sad at all, but oh dear people they are so epic & sad.  there is tiny line of a song that says sometimes in love there is forever and other times there is pain. i think love even when it ends last forever don't you.

today while driving on an unfamiliar road i listened to a woman talk about how she knew mother theresa, being herself in covenant for twenty years. she talked about how after mother therasa death, ten years after they found letters about her doubts, about her yearning for something else. i thought about that all the way to here. how one could live one life so completely devoted to it yet yearn for something else. then i thought about the difference between thinking and feeling and that is when i realized i am not capable to separate those two powerful things. i think what i feel and feel what i think, it will always be that way for me, i know that now.

* i am not in anyway comparing myself to mother theresa. the story to me was about women and the path they choose and how they can walk on one while in their heart, be on another.
* 

it's coming and i stay still

 i stood in the rain for a little too long today. i have decided to stay indoors now. the cast iron pot simmers with garlic and lentils and crusty bread bakes in the oven, oh how i had promised myself no bread till france.  my feet found the warmth of hand knitted socks and a lazy scarf is wrapped around my neck. it  will just be one of the those days,  recharge & quiet. unexpected lines will be read from well written novels of times past. the sounds of a foreign language will play on the viewing machine. tea cups will be poured and sipped and in between the animals will be well kept. today will be me feeling summer closing it's door and autumn singing it's way in.

hello

just a quick hello. the thing is i have so much to say but it does not seem to want to come out.

i am well, the weather has been lovely. i am obsessed with japanese greens, music and plums. lots and lots of plums.

a walk with a friend

last sunday sheila and i after breakfast went for a walk. i wanted to show her the writers cabin, the apple and pear trees. we ate our pears as walked, we talked about butterflies, the people we care about and the future. we headed into the woods where i showed her a stone wall circle, we found a magical leaf. we scared a giant hawk from the trees who in turn scared us. we walked to the cemetery that is in our forest the oldest stone is from the seventeen hundreds all belonging to the Potter family.  i am glad i had this time with my dear friend, her wisdom and calm, her kind and generosity have been like a lighthouse to a ship, a ship who often looses her way.

thank you sheila for spending time with me.

hi friends, after much rain it is sunny here, lovely in fact. i will be spending the weekend alone, preparing the farm for winter, writing post cards for read with me and making wild blueberry jam. what will you be doing.

when the fog lingers in the forest

the rain has been the main character here on the hill. the other night trying to beat the downpour i found myself outside with a wrapped scarf of sorts and my wellies trying desperately to convince the chickens and ducks to retire for the night in the safety of their dry coop. as i closed the door to the coop which sits just at the forest gate, i could not help but feel compelled to grab my camera and take a walk into the foggy woods.

there is something so hauntingly beautiful about fog dancing through trees. the forest floor is covered with  bright green ferns mingling with thick dark barks and contrasting branches it is all so lovely. you can't help feel as if magically you have been transformed from a person to an insect or a bird. sometimes i dream i have an old phonograph that i can  bring with me, i would set it down on moss covered rock and play a symphony, let it serenade the ever so giving forest.

how i love seeing through the fog,  everything looks like it comes from someone's brilliant imagination, yet i know it is all very real as i stare out to my horses.   the fog finds itself as unexpected healer ƒor the soul and my heart suddenly feels  very open...

* something about the picture of tolstoy(my big draft horse) makes my heart hurt

* splash my quarter horse is leaning, he has a very big belly he is an easy keeper

the company you keep

my dear friend sheila came to spend part of labour day with me as she did one time before. sheila arrived friday after picking up k in the evening. we decided to have a late evening dinner on the porch, freshly picked tomatoes roasted in garlic thrown over pasta, with a tapas of olives, rosemary bread, harissa olive oil and a salad. it was a nice evening the candles flickered at the moon that was the colour of deep apricots.saturday morning we lingered at the breakfast table catching up and sharing thoughts. late morning it was time to head the bennington Garlic festival, we parked far on a farmers field, the ground still recovering from the hurricane,  the hems of our pants muddy and wet. the garlic festival was filled with booths with garlic's as far the eyes can see, we sampled, drooled and shopped before we found a table and settled down for a garlicky lunch while the bands played, we shared our table with a few people from brooklyn and virgina and before we knew it they were dipping into our feast and sharing stories. after sheila tasted the garlic ice cream that left much to be desired not to mention a bad taste, we hopped in the car to williamstown to find a cafe and cleanse our palate. 

when we got back to the hill i called my friend debbie and asked if we could come pick some berries, apples plums. on our way to debbie's house i drove past my neighbours house Lulie, there she was sitting on the porch underneath the afternoon sun. as a photographer, a dreamer i have to tell you this scene was so perfect i could not even disrupt it with the click of my camera. Lulie is my neighbour she in in her late eighties, i am completely smitten with her. she is tiny, with beautiful white hair, the most piercing blue eyes i have ever scene and her southern accent makes me giddy. I invited her to join us and she said yes, both sheila and i knew how lucky this time with her would make us feel.as we arrived at my friends house and opened the gate to the orchard trees bursting with fruit greeted us, we quickly grabbed apples to eat immediately as we made our way to  the blueberry and blackberry bushes. as we picked, we asked lulie questions and listened with great delight, she is wise, funny and sharp as a whistle. this was followed by a walk to the plums trees, the most beautiful trees filled with colour like i have never scene before, not quite ready but we each managed to find a few to nibble on as debbie joined us and help us pick more apples. 

the night ended as we joined debbie and her husband larry at new local pizza place on main street, the  the small town feeling of the day was perfect. spending time with people who make you feel lucky to be in their company was one i will never forget.

* i have more of my time with sheila to share soon

........summer days

i want to take a cool shower with peppermint soap,  put on the perfect summer clothes oh no-not

that fancy dress with flowers but the long t-shirt the one i have washed a million times it has become the softest thing i own, oh yes dear friends i know there is few holes here and there but to me it is perfect for all the rest of summer days.

i want to spend the next few days eating tomatoes from the vine, picking blackberries till my fingers turn all shades of blue. i want my glass to be filled with ice and lemon maybe some mint and basil too. i want to lay in the hammock without a book,  instead i want to stare up at the sky and listen to the leaves and the bees not to mention the quacks.  i want to eat my evening meal on the porch of the writers shack by candlelight while listening to the crickets and my love. i want to lay on freshly washed sheets, with one foot of the bed waiting for the perfect summer evening breeze to help me fall asleep.

i want to know i have not wasted any summer days, so i must go  but before i do, happy summer weekend dear friends, hope you will enjoy it too.

Further inside of me ( post revisited)

i wanted to share a post i wrote a few years ago

i was very fortunate to have been able to visit the theater this week and too listen to stravinsky' "rite of spring" performed by heddy maalem dance troupe. not only was this beautiful to watch but powerful to listen too a few days earlier i also listened to an orchestra performance, that moved me so much that i started shaking. i have been this way since i was a little girl. in the last few years i feel something so deep inside of me that it often it feels like i have no ability to breathe and my heart

hurts. as i was listening to this performance come to an end and had reached the state i just mentioned i heard a gentle whisper in my ear asking" what where you thinking about" i could not answer the questions..but it stayed with me all night. on a drive back one afternoon i heard another beautiful piece of music that brought tears quickly to my eyes and i began to feel the heart ache...then i had remembered the question that was asked a few nights before....

the answer to myself

although i will be celebrating my eleventh year of marriage and fifteen years of togetherness, i think that in those moments that the music is playing i yearn for a moment of innocence and newness where my name is nadia and nothing else. please do not get me wrong if my husband would suddenly not be in my life i would be on the floor begging for all of it back every single morsel, but when i hear the piano, the violin, the cello.. i think of the the fairy tale that plays in my head, the quivering lips and the bright eyes, the time before the wrinkles, before the bitter heart ache, before the numbness, before anger and disappointment.

in those few moments i am crying for the person i once was, the person i rushed through. i have always been a dreamer my biggest love is russian literature-sometimes i feel it has ruined me and other times grateful for the life it leads in it's pages...i have never been one to worry about age but what saddens me is how far i have gotten away from myself. In those moments i see myself as i once was and wish i would have taken notice. in those minutes i dream for moments that did not happen and the ones that have but never completed, i dream of rain in paris and hands shaking.....i dream of horses in mongolia and people faces..i dream of new languages..i think of the times i said no when i should have said yes..in those moments i dream for everything to be different while it remains the same....

photos out side my window