The tree and approaching autumn

As you can see, I have changed the layout of my blog page a bit, thanks to a layout template from pyzam.com and a few tweaks I made myself to suit my perfectionist preferences (though it turned into a mini-course on how to find my way around xml code...I'm from the now old-school of html!).
I love the photo of the tree growing out of a rock in the middle of the water; it communicates serenity, assurance, strength in the face of certain adversity, and a fragment of beauty where you might least expect it.
I found a spot just the other day that is a temporary escape from the demands of here and now, a nature trail that weaves back into an old evergreen forest, a place that exudes that same feeling of peace and perseverance as the "lonely tree" photo above. I took a few photos (two are included on the sidebar to the right), which don't do it justice.
Today it rained, the kind of fresh rain that tells of coming Autumn, school starting, sweaters, fallen leaves, woodsmoke, and apple cider. Soon it will be September, and I will be pulled back into a cycle of activities and busyness that challenge my inner reserves of calm, contentment, strength, and faith. I hope that this lonely tree picture reminds me often of what is beautiful, true, everlasting, and where the source of my strength lies.

Hugs

Hugs are like emotional food. They give a starving person something to go on for awhile, or give a content person the comfort and security of knowing that all is well.
I didn't discover how nice hugs could be until I moved into a dorm where I was surrounded by nice girls who gave hugs on sight. They didn't just say "hello," they also said "it's good to see you" with a hug, which made the greeting more complete and genuine. I used to be a bit stand-offish, or touchy, when it came to hugs, because I was easily embarassed and not sure how to react. However, the hugs-on-sight girls helped cure me of that, and I have since become more of a "huggy" person. Some things you can say with words, but a hug often does it better: "I've missed you," "until we meet again," "I appreciate you," "sad to see you go," "I treasure your friendship," and so on.
I've learned from past experience that if you never show the affection or goodwill you feel for someone, that person may pass away or simply pass out of your life and you will have lost the chance, it will be too late to hug them and communicate "I am thankful for you...you are always welcome here."
So, to all my friends and family, think of this as a virtual hug for you until I can give it in person; I am thankful for you!

Scents of memories

It's a windy evening... the aqua color of the water as the sun sets behind it is disrupted by ruffled waves, and on the horizon is a band of silver mist where the sun catches moisture particles in its grasp and illuminates them.
Inside, where I have retreated from the wind (breaking my evening porch-sitting tradition), the lingering scents of the beef soup that I made for dinner and the bunch of fresh-cut lavender I hung in the kitchen earlier give the house a comforting, welcoming smell.
It is amazing, the power that smells have of triggering memories and giving that special dimension to experiences. When I smell pine trees and damp earth, I remember the California Redwoods and many camping experiences. When I smell a certain kind of soap, I fondly remember someone who used it. When I smell cookies baking or soup cooking, I remember my mom (and her cooking). When I smell ethnic cooking, auto exhaust, and salty sea air, I recognize the smell of Seattle.
Have you ever noticed that people's houses all have a unique smell? A mixture of the laundry detergent they use, the hand soap, the pets (or lack thereof), the things they keep inside, the age of the house, and of course the people themselves.
I wonder what my house smells like to a visitor? That could be a dangerous question, but right now for me it smells of summer wind, beef soup, lavender, and home.