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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.

Blog

A Concise List of Healing

UmberDove




Burying one's nose in a fresh bunch of lavender, breathing deep. Repeat.
::
Enjoying the first fruits of a garden: the first strawberry (still a touch too tart, but sun-warmed and worth it all the same), the first radishes slipped from the soil and barely dusted before being crunched into, the first bowl of sugar snap peas, each plumper than the last.
::
Holding, arranging, examining treasures of driftwood shared from the beach excursions of others.
::
Short jaunts out to breakfast (ohhh the vegan potatoes at Big Blue Cafe! and OH! I still have some leftovers...) and the farmer's market before falling back into bed.
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Sitting on the back steps in the late afternoon sun talking with one's soul sister.
::
Logging more hours in bed in one week than in an average month.
::
Fresh deliveries of tulips, iris, and moss-filled bark slabs.
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Countless cups of tea, whole pints of blueberries, and the kind of fussing only one's parents can deliver.
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Being snuggled on by furry piles of kitty.
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Resting easy on the wings and winds of love and prayers from friends near and far.


From the cushy depths of my sofa,
and with all my adoration,
- Umber