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the path back is the path forward


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live in clover. [two artists tuesday]

clover

“to live a life in clover:  to live a life of ease, comfort or prosperity”

the clover on the side of the trail was huge and bountiful green.  we look for the bunnies and wonder who is lucky enough to be nibbling these leaves.  we ask each other – which clover is sweeter:  small-leafed clover or large-leafed clover? we make up the answer and walk on, leaving the field of green, satisfied our clover-knowledge is adequate for the time-being.

we pass the lake, overflowing its banks onto the trail, muddy at our feet and steel-grey-blue out in its depths.  goslings follow obediently behind their parents, the beaver makes a rare appearance, cranes soar overhead, fish jump.  we stand and watch for a few minutes, quietly taking in the field of water, our breathing slowing.

we walk through woods, verdant green peeking out from every brown corner, the field of the grey bark of trees, oldest, youngest, all climbing to the light.  frogs echo from the swampy ponds off the path.  we relish the silence.

past the cut-down fields of corn, brown, the dirt lays barren but for old stalks laying amid the former rows.  we walk and talk about farmers and crops plowed under and whether there will be planting again in these fields, brown now and corn-green later.

and we know, as we walk, that, despite it all – circumstances of abundance, circumstances of lack – we are lucky.  we are walking.  we are breathing.

we will walk in verdant green and blue-water and grey-bark-trees and brown waiting-fields.  we will walk in rich fields, all golden with life.

truth be told, we are living in clover.

“but I swear in the days still left we’ll walk in fields of gold
we’ll walk in fields of gold” (sting)

 

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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west of the i. [d.r. thursday]

county sketch copy

one of the cool things about living in kenosha is the ability to easily get to two major cities – milwaukee and chicago.  we drive up to milwaukee to putter around, go to the art museum, walk along the river in the third ward, go to antique shoppes.  we usually take the train to chicago, driving south a couple towns for more frequent schedule choices.  we walk the streets of the city, find places for coffee or glasses of wine, attend national geographic live events or a play or concert, visit with friends.

but we are actually less city people than we are outdoors people.  and so, more often, we will head out – west of the i – and take a drive out in the county.  in next-to-nothing we are surrounded by farmland, breathing in the scent of rich dirt in fields that are turned over for planting, some yielding early croplings*.

in also next-to-nothing time, david whips out his sketchbook and pencils to capture the really gorgeous patterns in these fields of green.  (these words make me think of the stunningly beautiful song fields of gold.  if you haven’t ever heard it, please take a few minutes right now and click HERE.  you will be glad you did.)

just a sketch, but a reminder of the moments we passed these fields, talking or listening to music, singing along or simply silence in the car.  a breath of fresh air, a drive to rejuvenate, maybe a hike on a trail to restore us – all west of the i.

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

browse david’s gallery – a breath of fresh air, a few moments to rejuvenate or restore you

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©️ 2019 david robinson & kerri sherwood

*yes.  technically, ‘croplings’ is not a word.  but i could not resist it.  this stems from my love of the word ‘seedlings’.