I know how unrelenting that work is...... and you describe it well, with fortitude and humour.
Oh! And thanks for recommending my "What The Water Said....."
Days when children - or anything - exhaust me, I would think of a favourite place in the wilderness, and imagine how it is, at this exact moment - still there, leaves blowing, river flowing, clouds flitting overhead... without me, without anyone. It's something I still do, sometimes at night, to help me drift off to sleep, imagining the sound of my favourite river, at my favourite camping spot.....
Hi Kate, it’s always amazing to see and feel how you can put all of your heart—no, all of yourself—into your writing, no matter whether it’s the breathtaking or the mundane of which you’re writing. Thanks for the panoramic view of first light on the du Cane range, even though that bird squawking pissed off my cat Rodney. Daisy, bless her little heart, slept through the bird’s vocal vulgarity. You’re in our thoughts, prayers and hearts, always and forever here in the waning days of winter in Western New York.
I’d so glad you enjoyed reading Rafael. And I laughed when I read that the song of the Currawong frightened your cat Rodney! I hope you are having a great day :)
I tried to save face for Rodney by saying that currawong pissed him off, but you rightly interpreted that it scared him. Rodney—all nineteen pounds of him—is the biggest, brawniest, strongest cat we’ve ever had, and he’s afraid of his own shadow. But we adopted him a few years ago and he quickly decided I was his favorite person, so I’m going to give him a little hug and a treat!
Hello again, Alia. I believe that through some combination of alchemy and nature that I don’t understand, you and Kate are partners in the crime (!) of making people think, believe and feel. (What I just wrote sounds Orwellian.) Rock on, Sisters In Crime!
Haha, yes, I'm certainly glad I found Kate on Substack. Somedays, (like when reading the piece above), I feel like we're leading parallel lives, except I know Kate's got four children to feed and I only two, so who am I to think that.
Last week’s W&W was an ode to the art of everyday. Of how mundane and magic intersect and generate creativity. I believe these are the events that truly trigger our imaginations. When we have the opportunity to see beyond what’s in front of us and use all our senses to explore. Last week I was carrying my first 5000mts summit in my pocket. At every turn of the path I extended my hand onto it, in my pocket the moment was large, exhilarating, and vivid. I could still listen to the sound of my heartbeat in my ears as the strong Andean wind trapped the pulse of my body, making it louder.
Thank you for inviting me to carry this with me, a totem and treasure.
Wow - you sound like super Mum, Kate.
I know how unrelenting that work is...... and you describe it well, with fortitude and humour.
Oh! And thanks for recommending my "What The Water Said....."
Days when children - or anything - exhaust me, I would think of a favourite place in the wilderness, and imagine how it is, at this exact moment - still there, leaves blowing, river flowing, clouds flitting overhead... without me, without anyone. It's something I still do, sometimes at night, to help me drift off to sleep, imagining the sound of my favourite river, at my favourite camping spot.....
Dave :)
Thanks David, I love the idea of imagining your favourite river as you drift of to sleep, magic.
I’m not sure I can claim the super mum title, but I’m here, doing the best I can, most days, some days are hard!
Take care, Kate
Hi Kate, it’s always amazing to see and feel how you can put all of your heart—no, all of yourself—into your writing, no matter whether it’s the breathtaking or the mundane of which you’re writing. Thanks for the panoramic view of first light on the du Cane range, even though that bird squawking pissed off my cat Rodney. Daisy, bless her little heart, slept through the bird’s vocal vulgarity. You’re in our thoughts, prayers and hearts, always and forever here in the waning days of winter in Western New York.
I’d so glad you enjoyed reading Rafael. And I laughed when I read that the song of the Currawong frightened your cat Rodney! I hope you are having a great day :)
I tried to save face for Rodney by saying that currawong pissed him off, but you rightly interpreted that it scared him. Rodney—all nineteen pounds of him—is the biggest, brawniest, strongest cat we’ve ever had, and he’s afraid of his own shadow. But we adopted him a few years ago and he quickly decided I was his favorite person, so I’m going to give him a little hug and a treat!
😂
What a lovely read. Those mountains are truly stunning, Kate. It would definitely be hard to return to domesticity after such a high.
My pockets today have been full of tissues... not mine, but those of two snotty little kids who like to drop them everywhere. 😅
Thanks Alia, I hope your little ones are on the mend soon. :)
Hello again, Alia. I believe that through some combination of alchemy and nature that I don’t understand, you and Kate are partners in the crime (!) of making people think, believe and feel. (What I just wrote sounds Orwellian.) Rock on, Sisters In Crime!
I love that ‘sisters in crime’.
It’s been wonderful to find Alia and her work here on Substack. She inspires me to write better and think deeper about the world around!
It’s chilling to contemplate what might happen if you two conspire to do something illegal.
Haha, yes, I'm certainly glad I found Kate on Substack. Somedays, (like when reading the piece above), I feel like we're leading parallel lives, except I know Kate's got four children to feed and I only two, so who am I to think that.
Agreed, mothers with their heads full words and nostalgia for adventures of long ago!
Bless you.
🙏
Dear Kate,
Last week’s W&W was an ode to the art of everyday. Of how mundane and magic intersect and generate creativity. I believe these are the events that truly trigger our imaginations. When we have the opportunity to see beyond what’s in front of us and use all our senses to explore. Last week I was carrying my first 5000mts summit in my pocket. At every turn of the path I extended my hand onto it, in my pocket the moment was large, exhilarating, and vivid. I could still listen to the sound of my heartbeat in my ears as the strong Andean wind trapped the pulse of my body, making it louder.
Thank you for inviting me to carry this with me, a totem and treasure.
X