"the season is maturing..."

late august---  (photos depicting riffraff photos i've scavenged over the weeks since i've been camera-less lately...our summer revelry, plumb full.) (photos by me, my brother sean, my sister glory, and ty.)

happy valley.

life is cyclical.


there is a stillness with the heat.
the transition from summer to autumn definitely has the deepest drop off, from the growth and abundance of life into rest, shadow, and decay.

sis glo and bro carl...it was a wild summer filled with light and splashing and sun-warm fresh fruit. a multitude of my siblings make their summerly visit to my parents', where children buzz and hop along, asking for sandwiches. i spent a lot of nights there under the stars, staying within the nucleus of action and daily summer plans.

teddy started school today and i feel overwhelmed by this change.

people ask me what it was like growing up with so many siblings...i don't know, because i've never known anything else. i'm thinking i'll post more thoughts on this later.

the biggest tree

it means our summer has ended,

the equinox is coming even closer.

it means home school didn't work out for us.

it means giving up a universe of flexibility and freedom,

to see if the stability is nurturing to teddy

(and the rest of us.)

it means being tied to a few more places that i didn't want to be tied to.

it means working on routine, which is something i've never had a hold on, but i think my kids crave.

it means saying goodbye to teddy in a way, and this feels hard,

drift wood mandala

it's an experiment, and i think we're ready for it because there's no where else to go.

living in this neighborhood can feel like a straitjacket.

you can struggle and strain and scream against it,

but sometimes it's easier to just go quietly.

and here i am, going quietly

fading away

(well, after two years of kicking and screaming...)

the boy is going to school

tiny little county park, memorial redwoods near pescadero. the grove was hauntingly beautiful, a place from my childhood.

link will presumably start pre-school in a year and a half

and we dig ourselves deeper and deeper.

we're not leaving.

summer is leaving.
we're staying, and will watch all of those migratory creatures come and go.
i'd like to migrate.

everyone in this pic is a family member...it was our own little cove of pure blue and the most perfect tidepooling.

ty likes his work and that is amazing, and i support him. if his commute were any longer his quality of life would be  diminished. 

we already spend too much of our lives in the car, and i don't want to contribute to any more.

does that mean i've stopped dreaming of a lifestyle where we spend our hours working the land to feed ourselves? never. never.

(i wont go to target i wont go to costco we'll buy second hand til we die

we'll recycle

we'll go to the farmers' markets

we'll learn to make and grow  and gather ourselves, because we can. just because we live here doesn't mean anything about how we need to live. it just means we we live here.)

<i didn't say anything about not going to whole foods. :/>

we'll keep the tv off unless we really want to watch nova or nature or huell houser or what have you.)

goofy shot

and i'll find ways to stay marginally inspired, like being on life support,

until i find myself in surroundings that are cohesive to my requirements. 

tyler's parents moved back home to pville, here we are back at the magic creek behind their house! i've missed them so.

little blond lloyd christmas, first hair cut. (he had some serious legit baby dreads in the back.)

(and then i think:

-that's not very zen of you.-

does a major aspect of you have to die in order to survive here?

can't you be yourself, in full blooming beauty, in perfect peace, regardless of circumstances? doesn't all of that come from within?

is there not the whole universe in your soul?

(it's hard to stay so esoteric when the ego prefers pine trees over street lamps.))

and now my lost boy is at school, and summer is over,

i feel so poignant and full of longing for nectar and blossoms and shooting stars and youth. he'll be fine. we'll roll into autumn, into that time of decay and rest, and continue on our cycles. 

the loveliest kid in the loveliest Dry creek.

and now, the part we've all been waiting for: teddy goes to school.

how do i wake him up? little lump.

the school is a magical place. it's the closest thing to a truly organic community around...organically built from the shoulders of like-minded people, a co-op of learning and respect.

it's packing his lunch that brings the tears, putting his little name on all of his things.

i will volunteer one day a week. talking to different parents i've found that every one is there for different reasons, but ultimately it comes down to wanting community, and pulling away from (smashing)traditional testing standards and just letting the kids be curious.

all clean!

i feel very blessed to be a part of it, for our family to be a working component of this ecosystem.

art stations all around

i mean, look at it. there's a freaking yellow submarine!!! kids have little shovels, and hose access, and they make rivers in the sand during breaks.

the garden. when i first visited the school a barefoot woman with a baby on her back was spraying down tie-dye shirts. i thought the place was perfect for me, but teddy was to be attending, not myself... teddy would have no interest in any of this hippy cliche school....lesson learned? don't judge a book by it's cover.

how does one get the mula to send their kid to a small, grown from the ground, no government funds whatsoever kind of school? their grandpa/grandma pays for it in lieu of non-existent child support. that's how. before we knew this was an option it was a scramble to find a home school/part-time charter program.

he doesn't know how lucky he is. really.  i think i'll definitely be posting more about school as time goes by.

link plays in the teepee, alone at home.

ty and i play a game of chess.

and as quickly as summer came so very quickly does she leave. sunsets are blindingly orange
the crickets seem care-worn
and i've reached for a blanket in dawn's dark depths.
 and even with all of this talk of me feeling stuck and mopey we seem to be blessed with discovering creative green pockets of life as our family commits to staying true to ourselves. life's like that.

xoxo