It’s limbo-land for us a while longer, six more weeks to be exact until the moving truck comes. How does one live in the NOW when there is so much planning to do? How will our furniture fit in the new house? What should we leave behind? What about insurance and medical care and internet provider and so much more that we take for granted when we stay put?

I also do a lot of wondering about things like what birds and insects and other creatures will inhabit my surroundings so that I can feed them or possibly discourage them or just merely come into relationship with them. I’m told there’s lots of rabbits. I’m down for that! but what birds and where will they be building nests? and what kind of butterflies?

Questions like these always lead to the art, as in this one. . .

powdered graphite, powdered pigment, collage on w/c paper

Today I asked

pleaded really

for my winged friends to come with me to the new house

to perch on branches, build their nests in bushes, lay their eggs

to fill the air with buzzing chirping fluttering soaring singing squawking cooing pecking humming munching flapping splashing

I asked them to please find their way to my windows

to reassure me that I still inhabit a nature wonderland.

So that I will look up from my table

to meet the eyes of some new bird

who finds me as exotic and revelatory

as I find her/him/them.

This is how I’ll know

I have found my way home again.




  1. Ah limbo land, I know it well. I made a choice not to worry about the wondering of my moving thoughts. I used a steno book and kept a list of the things that popped into my mind – like the wifi and other utility providers. I occasionally made a list of what I would miss from my area and drove around and took pictures – restaurants, small stores, vineyards, wineries, landmarks, etc. I wanted to hold on to my memories and love of my neighborhood, city, county, region, my home for 35 years. As I sit in this new, foreign to me area, I realize how many things I didn’t have on my list – like the mountains to the east, the ocean an hour away, moon rising over my mountain, the smell of the crush, the naked vineyards just after pruning. Now I am continuing to fill my steno pad with the delights of my new home – prairie grass, plush green lawns, winter snow, sparkling frost on the trees, icicles, geese waddling through my front yard, flocks of robins nesting in the pine trees, “rush hour” traffic that could be any 2pm Sunday afternoon.

    Use your steno pad for your to do lists, to call lists, to surf the internet lists. Fill more art journal pages, and cram your sketchbooks with memories. Worry and anxiety only leads to worry and anxiety – so jot your thoughts down and release them from your mind. Remember to breathe, and stay present with your packing projects.

    Honestly everything will fall into place and a year from now you’ll look back with a silly grin on your face, wondering why you worried. I’m only five months into my transition and I know I made the right choice, at the right time. I am wallowing in the joy of adventures with each day trip, making discoveries with each new person that crosses my path, and flipping through my steno pad thrilled to see so many things crossed out or check off, or with notes & information for the future.

    Your birds will share your story and send word north, if they do not head in that direction themselves. You have new mysteries to unravel, new friends to make, people that willingly want to help you settle in with where to get the bird seed, and so much more. This is a magical time in your life. It is exciting and scary. Check the closets for monsters, and when you find none, laugh out loud. It helps! Know that you are not alone and loved by so many, who will lift you up if needed. Be brave, have courage, and trust the Universe!


  2. All I know is that Sonoma County will miss you and especially me. You got me inton watercolor as a lifetime endeavore. I thank you for that. Have a wonderful life in your new home. 💕

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh Jan! I have such fond memories of you which will never leave me. And for that I thank you back, and wish you great happiness in your painting life. We artists know that our art will be a devoted companion to the very end of life.


  3. Heartfelt poem and art. You’ll simply have to spend time outside in the first months. They will find you, esp if you wear glasses! Or a small pair of binoculars!

    Hugs, MB


    Liked by 1 person

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