Karinaland River

Storms and Flooding – yet Delight is Hiding in Plain Sight       African Flag  flower      When the bushtits flock into to my garden, all my senses leap into a state of delight.   Always.   And out of the blue it happens in the middle of Tuesday’s historic storm. The pounding rain is easing for a moment, but the winds are increasing their gusts to 70 – 90 mi/h. The Camellia tree and fence are falling over again, despite staking efforts after the previous week’s atmospheric river. I am out clearing drains, evaluating, fixing and fastening things. To my huge surprise – in midst of ferocious winds whipping the big oaks, loud clanging of my many chimes, a sonic chaos swelling and ebbing like the agitated ocean – the bushtits arrive! Twittering away with their soft chips, fluttering and flitting about, hanging upside down, foraging for the tiniest insects and spiders. Their plumage gets ruffled by the gusts, but otherwise the birds seem unperturbed. As if this swirling atmospheric river wit

  We are in the Season of Pisces       I have many Pisces friends born in March, or end of February.  And tonight, as we are swimming again in an  Atmospheric River , I am inviting them into my  River of Memories , my  beautiful “fish” friends & colleagues from  old and new times, and  many places – the way they swam, and are still swimming,  into and  through my life…   Jutta Epperlein, enamel     Among them is Brandyn, one of the protagonists of my film  Finding the Gold Within , released in 2014. He is now a lawyer, already owning his first house, and he lost his mother Shirley last August. For the past twelve years – since Spring 2011 – I have witnessed Brandyn grow, we became friends, and we are still in communication. He turned 30 on March 1. The week leading up to his birthday was the saddest he’s ever been, he confessed. Not having his mom for this milestone. Yesterday he told me that every year at 6:58 am she’d sing him happy birthday… This pierced me, it says so much abou

  March – Month of Shapeshifting   All over California, blossoms and snowflakes have been mingling, surprising us with their fragile beauty. Winter and Spring are competing. Abruptly shifting. Rain, hail,  gusting winds,  thunder, lightning, snow, sun, flocks of birds... This morning I wonder why my deck is so slippery. Touching the wood, I realize that a very thin invisible layer of ice is covering the boards. This has me moving slowly. Delightful crisp air. My old plum tree still vibrant with blossoms. Beneath white petals covering the ground, a different kind of snow. Transformation is in the air.  And poetry...           once a snowflake fell             on my brow and i loved             it so much and i kissed             it and it was happy and called its cousins             and brothers and a web             of snow engulfed me then             i reached to love them all             and i squeezed them and they became             a spring rain and i stood perfectly