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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.




The house is so quiet I can hear the buzz of the radiators
The sky offers watery bands of light through a milky gray haze
They break on the white-tipped grass and slide down ivy colored trunks
I feel a bit in a fog myself (12 hour drives will do that to you)
But I'm enjoying the stillness before torrent.

When the crunch of gravel welcomed us home (late, late Sunday night)
I was reminded, yet again, of just how much I have to give thanks for
I could easily begin that list and keep on shouting my thanks for days
What I really want to say
Right here
And right now
Is Thanks to

You, fabulous reader-friends, continually make my days a little bit brighter
Encourage me when I most need it
Make me laugh and snort into my coffee cup
Cause me to marvel and remember the beauty of humankind.

When I began this blog (truly, honestly, I only expected me mum to be reading)
I had no idea the friendships it would lead me to find,
Across town, across this continent, and across the earth
And for that I have no more words
Other than
Thank You
You really do mean the world to me.

Oh yeah.
One more thing:

Paul Bunyan agrees. We're tight like that.

Yeah, that really is the same booted foot in both photos! Trees of Mystery and Paul Bunyan? Sigh, I really do miss California somedays!