NOVEMBER 2022
Greetings from Betsy Bauer Studio! As I wake to a dark, snowy pre-dawn view out my window, nature has reminded me that the time is here to go deeper inside ourselves. I cherish the quieter time in the studio to nourish myself with the beauty of nature and uncover new seeds of creativity.
The time leading up to November was very busy. Gathering the last of the sun and earth's bounty, harvesting and sun drying the umeboshi apricots from our magnificent tree right out the front door. Picking the last of the tomatoes before the frost and hand-peeling southern New Mexican green chile, for some culinary heat to get through the snowy winters of the high desert. And finally, stacking pinon and cedar wood and gathering kindling for chilly winter days.
Now, the first real snow has descended from the turquoise sky, gently covering the golden pile of leaves from the apricot tree and giving the pumpkin a white hat for the day. As the light dawns on this fresh snowy day, I will leave you with Mary Oliver’s poem and the remembrance that we can find grounding and joy in the earth and all her spectacular gifts every day throughout the seasons. Warm Wishes, Betsy
FALL INSPIRATION New delivery of a fresh batch of Wrappedrockz to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum Shop this week.
NOVEMBER The snow began slowly, a soft and easy sprinkling of flakes, then clouds of flakes in the baskets of the wind and the branches of the trees - oh, so pretty. We walked through the growing stillness, as the flakes prickled the path, then covered it, then deepened as in curds and drifts, as the wind grew stronger, shaping its work less delicately, taking greater steps over the hills and through the trees until, finally, we were cold, and far from home. We turned and followed our long shadows back to the house, stamped our feet, went inside, and shut the door. Through the window we could see how far away it was to the gates of April. Let the fire now put on its red hat and sing to us. - Mary Oliver from Why I Wake Early, 2004