A little ditty about seasons


Here we are in the midst of summer.

As much as I thought I was preparing, I now feel unprepared (as usual) and, well, insane. 

It's a wonderful kind of busy. Seeing all the visitors I met last year and even years before.

I'm also sharing my work with so many new people just discovering the shop, continuing the mission to #spreadjoy with happy jewelry, and then there's the constant making,   making,   making   just to keep up.

It's wild and crazy fun and I end every day feeling like this...

  Unfortunately, I have to be the one driving, lol.

This summer has me thinking about the rhythm of the seasons. I find myself saying this almost everyday. Living in Maine feels like being right with nature.

The summer is active, constant motion. Bright colorful and fast. 

Fall is a love letter to summer, thanking it for all the color and warmth.

And then in winter things slow to an almost stop. It feels so natural, time to reflect, cook, read, and get quiet.

I now understand why the locals here rave about winter so much. I'm looking forward to a little hibernation, myself. 

(we don't need to mention spring, because it doesn't exist)

In the meantime, I'm loving the energy of this busy bustling summer here on (in my opinion) the most beautiful island on earth.

So I'd like to share my own little love letter to summer...

daisies Daisies...anne woodman daisy necklace

ice cream

ice cream...

maine sunset 

sunsets. 

And tonight we're off to the State Fair.

Here's to summer, y'all!


2 comments


  • Betsy

    I’m with you, Anne, on spring. But you are making me endlessly envious of your summer, and your way with words describing it. I wishwishwish I could go with you to the state fair. They’re the best!


  • Jowill

    Beautiful, Anne. But don’t give Spring such short shrift. It’s saying goodby to winter, the big thaw, raging streams through melting snow and ice. It’s that first whiff and glimmer of summer. Yes, there’s mud and black flies. But we have to take the bad with the good.


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