I’m holed up in my apartment with the trusty cat. I made a decision not to see anyone because of the pandemic that has been raging here in South Dakota. We’re so close. The vaccination has already made its way to frontline medical staff, and soon enough, maybe the spring/summer, we should all be vaccinated.
I figured I could just pretend this Christmas was not happening. Kind of delete it from my calendar.
I didn’t buy a tree.
I didn’t make cookies, or put up lights, or any kind of decorations.
I’m not even listening to Christmas music.
I’m just in denial about the holiday.
This morning, when I walked out from the bedroom, I noticed nature had decorated for me. There is a beautiful pine tree outside my window in my living room. The artful way the frost framed the window with the sun shining through the branches just made me smile.
I tried to photograph it. It looks better in person. Wish you were here to enjoy it with me.
A friend sent this to me this morning while I was watching the news. A friend posted it on her feed. This lovely scene happened a few miles from my brother’s house in Huron, South Dakota. It is mesmerizing. Watch all the way through:
I told her it reminded me of this new favorite poem I bookmarked during my pandemic reading binge:
South Dakota has drawn a lot of attention to itself for the state and municipal government’s awful response to the COVID epidemic. While the humans have proven themselves imperfect, there is no denying nature continues to shine out here on the high plains.
I returned to South Dakota in May. Found a dreamy apartment nestled above a used book store in a corner of the city. For a few months now, until my lease runs out, I can still hop in the car and visit with my siblings out in the country.
I’ve already been on a photography binge, taking in the beauty of the summer landscape. I secured a small writing gig, and today I got word that I am going to receive a small grant I applied for a few weeks ago.
The grant is the big news in this post. I was uneasy about applying for it because of course there is that monster within telling me I’m not good enough, clever enough, talented enough to consider myself an artist.
Fuck that monster.
I applied and I got the grant.
A government agency has recognized me as an artist.