Week 47: Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

As the days get colder, we are pulling the winter coats out of the closet, and lighting the fireplace in the family room. We put on extra layers, make tea or hot chocolate, grab a good book (or the iPad), and warm our feet on the hearth. In the mornings, the dew has turned to ice, and the front lawn sparkles with frost. Holly and I postpone our long walk to later in the day when the sun has taken the chill from the landscape. The cold weather brings a reminder of gratitude for the warmth and shelter we easily take for granted out here in the cozy suburbs.

The leaves have all fallen now, and we see the bare branches of the trees, dotted with leafy bundles of squirrels’ nests. I look out the back windows to the woods behind our house, and with the absence of foliage, I can see deep into the open forest. As the trees and thickets become thinner and more transparent, where are the animals taking shelter? I imagine the bears move back towards the mountains and find their caves, while the rabbits and foxes retreat below ground. The deer move deeper into the woods, seeking wind break and cover from evergreens. The squirrels busily gather acorns, stuffing their cheeks. It’s time to prepare for Winter.

Preparing for Winter, acrylic collage, 12 x 12

Preparing for Winter, acrylic collage, 12 x 12

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Detail, Preparing for Winter

Week 45: Homework

Max concentrates on his Math homework.

Max started fourth grade this Fall. A regular part of our nightly ritual is sitting down at the kitchen table together to check over his homework, which hopefully has been completed before dinner. I love listening to him explain his thinking, or thoughtfully articulate a question. I remember the satisfying sensation of simple math, the security of knowing that this type of question has an answer that is either correct or incorrect. No gray areas, no lingering doubts, just the pleasure of watching the solution come to light.

A dramatic discovery is made.

And then there are other types of questions that require words and lengthy explanations. It is fun to participate in this spirit of open curiosity: What causes thunder and lightning? What is a hurricane? Where does rain come from? One evening I pointed out the beautiful moon, and was surprised to hear Max reply, “Mom, that is a waxing crescent.” He went on to explain the relationships between the sun, the earth, and the moon. Recently we studied the Geographical Regions of Virginia, the Weather, and how to write a mathematical equation from a “Number Story” or word problem. With each revelation, I remember when I was nine, and the world was new.

For this collage, I took a new approach, combining my drawings with Max’s drawings. I used fragments from his actual homework papers, including his writing, pictures, and the teacher’s grading notations in red pen. The collage became a nostalgic homage to childhood and school days in the Fall: We learn about the weather as the wind blows and leaves swirl in the front yard. The wild geese fly overhead. A football spirals through the air. The weathervane spins. A sailboat waits to take us away on a life-long adventure in learning, with the sun and the wind and the rain as our companions.

Homework, acrylic collage, 12 x 12

Detail, Homework

Detail, Homework

Detail, Homework

Detail, Homework

Detail, Homework

Week 40: Wild Geese

Every Autumn I hear the musical honking of the wild geese, as they pass through Virginia on their way south for the winter. The sound always stirs something in me, like the changing golden light of shorter days and the burnt orange and red of falling leaves in October. The call of the geese weaves itself seamlessly into the fabric of Fall, my favorite time of year. The sound brings back memories from my childhood, when my father taught me to observe and listen to the natural world. We teased apart the honks and warbles of waterfowl and shore birds, and looked for the identifying white patch on the face of the Canada Goose. Our family liked to visit a nature preserve on the eastern shore of Maryland, Blackwater Refuge, where we climbed the observation tower to look out over the ochre landscape of cattails and marsh grasses, the wild geese calling to each other, flying in their characteristic “V” formation. My young mind thrilled at this sight. “How do they choose the leader? How do they know which direction to fly? How far is their journey?”

Thirty something years later, I hear the sound of the geese flying overhead, and remember that feeling of wonder and curiosity. Our neighborhood sits up high on a ridge, a small network of quiet tree-lined streets, cul-de-sacs, and well-tended lawns. ┬áThere is a spot where the entry road climbs the steep hill to our houses, cutting open a clearing that reveals a long view to a wilder place. There are layers of open field, farm, and woodland, the Rivanna River winding its way in between. As the leaves fall, we can see a widening band of the distant Blue Ridge Mountains. The Canada Geese congregate in the field at the bottom of our hill. Sometimes I see their tiny black shapes rising up in a graceful “V” through the clearing, other times they fly directly over our rooftops, calling loudly. I think of my son, who is inside playing on his iPad, and I remind myself, “Teach him to listen for the wild geese. Don’t forget.”

Wild Geese, acrylic collage 12 x 12

Detail, Wild Geese

Detail, Wild Geese

Detail, Wild Geese

Detail, Wild Geese

Detail, Wild Geese