I have wanted a tote bag like this for a long time, so I finally decided to make it myself! I used my own photos from many a past summer hike as my reference points for all of these wildflowers.

the varieties enumerated: coneflowers, mountain blue bells, scarlet gilia, forget-me-nots, arrowleaf balsamroot, columbine, lupines (my favorite), geraniums, sweet pea, indian paintbrush, asters, sego lily, and wild roses. I saw sego lilies in the wild several times last summer and it never ceased to thrill me.

(you can see some of my pencil lines behind the final text—I dramatically changed the direction I was going with the typeface and I love the results so much)

In a later addition to the back side, I added a tiger swallowtail butterfly, as I frequently see them when hiking the Cottonwood Canyons (pictured above, also: a picnic blanket I made from estate sale twin bedsheets).

A progress shot, which incidentally depicts some of the differences of my original design/idea versus its final execution. Often I make small adjustments while working on a project, based on assessments of negative space, balance, and overall cohesion. I love how it turned out in the end and I've already put this tote to good use for many a picnic.

I am entirely split on the matter of favorite seasons (spring-fall, then summer, and winter dead last), but spring always fills my heart to bursting with gratitude for so many beautiful, lush, green growing things. The spring months are dotted with lunch-break walks or evening strolls to admire every single flower. In May, I always anxiously await the peak peony bloom, and I make the rounds several times over to my favorite spots in my city. In my extensive backlog-catch-up, I'd be remiss not to memorialize these favorites of spring 2017. The peonies speak for themselves and need no more by way of introduction:

anxiously awaiting another glorious spring—the unseasonably warm temperatures this week taunt me, but the peonies are always worth the wait.

Three years ago, I went on one of the best camping trips ever—a glorious ten-day romp through the Canadian Rockies and its cluster of national parks (Jasper and Banff primarily, with day visits to Yoho and Kootenay). We saw so many amazing places and I still think of those mountains and their wonders often.

Right after returning from this trip, I had a technological scare with the SD card from my camera and another technological scare in which my phone and camera had both settled on identical naming conventions and numbers, with many photos in danger of being overwritten despite not actually being duplicates. YIKES. I blame this series of technological mishaps for the spiraling out-of-control of my personal photo management and blog backlog. This, coupled with a rigorous travel schedule for much of 2016 and 2017, brings us to the present, and leaves me in an ongoing game of catch-up which I am determined to win. I am finally taking on the herculean task of sorting through the photos on my external hard drive from the Canadian Rockies—this is one in what will eventually be a series of posts from the trip.

So without further ado: assorted wildflowers of the Canadian Rockies (Jasper, Banff, Yoho, and Kootenay National Parks). Fireweed, ferns, arctic poppies, daisies, red and white clover, mosses, paintbrush, asters, and so many more. <3

My grandmother was a force for good and shaped so much of my childhood. She lived with my family for years when I was growing up, and I'd go to bed hearing the sound of her resonant cello practice, muffled through closed bedroom doors. I love this photo of her, in her early 20s, with her cello. The impacts of her rigorous musical training and career have long played an important role in my life.

I lived across the country during the worst of my grandmother's battle with dementia, but I would see her at Christmas and during other trips home, to witness the humorous and heart-warming parts of her declining years (her lack of inhibition, namely—so shocking from a woman so proper and reserved for nearly all her life!) as well as some of the difficult moments. But as her mind deteriorated, so did her other abilities, namely playing her beloved cello and enjoying exercise and an active lifestyle. For as long as I can remember, my sisters and I would join alongside as my grandma did her daily workout videos (famously step aerobics in the 90s), on trips to our local high school to hit tennis balls against the brick walls and practice our serving, and on regular walks around the block.

Although she was freed in a sense from many of the self-imposed constraints of her lifetime (her strict etiquette and expectations, overcompensating in the lengths she took not wanting to inconvenience others—these are a couple things that come to mind), the joys of life that were so freeing and fulfilling for her were no longer within grasp. That, and she rarely recognized the family members and loved ones around her. We would have upbeat conversations with her, but her pronouncements were never fully lucid or sensical.

When my mom called to tell me that her mom had passed away, I was visiting a friend out of the country at the time. My friend was shocked and a little unnerved by my sense of calm, but it was something difficult to explain to those outside my family. While her condition presented logistical challenges as my east coast family members arranged and provided for her continual and day-to-day care, these were sacrifices that any of us were willing to make. But for my grandmother's life to be so diminished surely in her own terms, was what was a challenge for so many of us. Obviously I speak for myself, not having been present and party to her daily routines and tending, but knowing my family members and our extended family's character, I know that my grandmother was always in good hands.

At my grandmother's funeral and memorial service in California, it was a small and intimate gathering of my mom and her brothers, our families, and a very few close family friends. I heard stories and anecdotes that I had never before learned from my Uncle Greg and my Aunt Laura. My Aunt Laura, herself a talented and professionally trained musician, shared so much in that regard with her mother-in-law, and I loved hearing her reminisces from when she first began to know my grandma. My Uncle Greg shared a great story about the range of my grandma's talent, her fiery Rachmaninoff performances belying her inner grit. So much of our emotional reaction and grief was similar in nature, much of it going unspoken but clear in the mutual understanding of the difficult dichotomy of our grandma and mother and mother-in-law's last years on earth.

In addition to time with family, I always love spending time in southern California, where my mom's family lived for decades. It feels like a second home in that so many sights are familiar to me. Below are some photos from the Baywood Apartments, where my grandparents lived when I was just a few years old. I vividly recall going to visit them there, and visits in more recent years always spark hints of remembrance as we walk the tree-lined paths through the apartment community.

My mom took us to Corona del Mar, noting that it was our grandma's favorite beach in Orange County. My Uncle Jeff, Aunt Laura, cousin Rachel, and I took a short hike in the Laguna Canyon Nature Preserve, enjoying the scenery. Aunt Laura showed us a small nature trail near Baywood where my grandma would take us on walks. I had not personally recollected that detail, so I loved having her longtime knowledge of that earlier tradition. At the time, the superbloom in southern California was in full-force (spring 2017), so the wildflowers all over the canyons and hillsides were in full blazing bloom.

Balboa Island and chocolate bananas are another fine family tradition, that we made sure to replicate.

While these photos may seem a little glib or lighthearted for a funeral, I love to think of them in the context of my grandma's love for photos of her family members and grandkids. Her bedroom was always lined with our latest school pictures, pictures from before I could walk and talk, and even photos from my mom's childhood. It felt fitting to fully enjoy time with all my cousins and to take more photos for future memories.

The services were held at a chapel of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Newport Beach. My grandparents were seminary teachers at this building and in this area in the 1970s. The front of the building facing Jamboree boasts a beautiful mosaic illustrating Lehi's vision of the Tree of Life, from the Book of Mormon. Where so much Church architecture nowadays bears all the same hallmarks of mass-produced replications, these elements of character and individuality at this particular building were so amazing.

My parents and aunts and uncles <3

Above and below—photos from our hike in the Laguna Canyon Nature Preserve, including the only naturally occurring freshwater lake in Orange County. The wildflowers on the hillsides were lovely.

Dad's Donuts' hippo cookies on Balboa Island have become something of a tradition in this generation of the family. My sisters and I discovered them years ago and they are the sweetest sugar cookies with a slick layer of glaze and M&Ms for eyes. That Dad's sells both frozen bananas and the beloved hippo cookies means that we can meet all our family's traditional Orange County dessert needs in one stop. (they had bunny hippo cookies for Easter!)

Corona del Mar, my grandma's favorite beach. It's not hard to see why.

Those bright patches of wildflowers continued up and down the California coast—so amazing.

In my Uncle Greg and Aunt Christie's neighborhood, I went for a walk with my cousin's girls and we happened upon the most glorious bougainvillea. It was so lush and in full bloom and those bringht pink bracts—just ah!

an oceanic expanse out the airplane window—Catalina Island on the horizon, punctuated by the sinking sun—I felt luck to nab a window seat.

I'm so grateful for my family, immediate and extended, and the lessons they teach me on the regular about joy and light and love.