At the Botanic Garden yesterday for the retreat, while walking and meditating after my own talk, I saw this gentleman from a distance. I was worried about intruding on whatever he was doing, until I realized that he was just Fishing Santa and not studying me at all.
The gardens were all decked out with lights for Christmas, about half of them on in the daylight. Starting at five, as we were leaving, people were lining up to walk through in the dark, which looked as though it would have been a lot of fun.
In even the gloomy daylight that we had yesterday, the light effect was a little weird. But it was a nice setting for talking about Eden and the imagery of a garden as it recurs in scripture and poetry, to speak of our fallenness and our longing.
Winter jasmine made a little golden light of its own
against the dreamy winter woods.
I don't know why statues that are supposed to look joyful never quite do.
It requires a particular genius to represent, in a static medium, the laughter and swift movement of a happy child. I really don't think this statue is the work of that particular genius.
Here's another of the poems I used in my talk yesterday, which had to encompass the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, as well as the imagery of the "garden enclosed" from the Song of Songs. One detail that stood out to me on this latest reading: that the man and woman don't see the wall until they're exiled from the garden.
Today: feeling tired at the end of the week and probably won't be very productive. I'm going to get pizza with Anna-Kate after her last class today, which means I need to leave the house by 1:00, which means I'll think I can't get anything done, whether that's actually true or not.
Wearing, on another gloomy but not-cold day:
Wool& Camellia dress, redyed royal blue; thrifted (25-cent) Eddie Bauer purple cotton cardigan; Snag merino tights in navy; Xero Tari boots.
Post-walk/end-of-a-long-week face, with all its lines:
