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.

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

I saw a cheeky illustration yesterday which resonated all too deeply with me—"It feels like January 74th." Winter has her charms, to be sure (see also: "Winter Is Not Always Terrible," parts one and two, respectively), but already the northern hemisphere's cold dark months seem to be dragging on all too entirely long for my liking/perceived personal well-being (cue title). WHO'S WITH ME.

While bordering on the cliché, Camus' (side note: how does one properly punctuate possessive apostrophes en français? My inner Francophone and Anglophile are at war with this one tiny stroke—Camus' or Camus's? Regardless, my intended pronunciation is thus: /kæˈmuːz/—the French final consonant silent as proscribed, with the addition of an English possessive 's' -z sound. more on the International Phonetic Alphabet (it traverses linguistic boundaries and consequently seemed an appropriate choice over traditional English dictionary pronunciation parlance!) here) words bubbled up from a dormant spring in my soul as I revisited some favorite photographs from a favorite alpine locale: "In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."

These cold dreary days feel to be stretching ever onward in the distance—indeed, how can they feel anything but so when nearly all my daily comings and goings occur by dark—but a small glimpse at past hillsides of wildflowers run riot, colors blazing... well Camus'(s?) words reverberated within me with a quiet softness like falling snow on snow.

Until the wildflowers bloom, blazing, I will keep my eye to the sky where the world wheels its course—quilted clouds blanketing the snowy valley; the moon, the stars—pinpricks of cold, crystal; and the occasional burst of brilliance as the setting sun throws radiant rose-golden light on the snowy mountain caps—hints of that invincible summer, despite all evidences to the contrary.

p.s. Mari Andrew: 152 insights into my soul.

During the summer, I spent many a Friday morning hiking. In July, I set out for Silver Lake in American Fork Canyon. The hike itself is absolutely one of my favorites that I have done in the Wasatch mountains; the scenery is unparalleled, the trail was populated enough that I did not feel wary hiking alone, but not so crowded as to make the experience unpleasant, and the wildflowers were incredibly lovely.

My one word of caution is in regards to the road by which you reach the trail—it is a pot-holed, rocky, bumpy dirt road that leads approximately 3 miles steeply up a mountain (past Tibble Fork in AF Canyon). It is a literal miracle that I made it there and back unscathed in my 2002 Saturn (a vehicle my mother long ago dubbed 'the motorized skateboard') (HA). I strongly recommend doing this hike only if you have access to a high-clearance vehicle/4-wheel drive. I drove incredibly slowly because once I had gone so far, it felt silly to turn around (also turning around is difficult on such a road) so I persevered ever more slowly. That said, I am glad I made it and could do the hike, as it is one of my favorites to date. But the transportation element was a bit nerve-wracking, so I post about this hike only with this full disclosure and resounding advice!

The wildflower blooms in 2017 were unparalleled. A heavy winter snowpack and long spring made for incredible summer flowers. I was amazed on this hike alone the variety (even within species) and abundant density of wildflowers. Besides, how gorgeous are these pinks?!

The forest was so lush and green, and so still. The bowing aspens and these tones of green just get me every time.

I loved this educational piece—a good reminder that manmade things add up and make a negative impact on the natural world.

I had some fun encounters with wildlife—I had paused to take a drink of water and looked over through the underbrush and made eye contact with this little guy who was staring at me warily through the undergrowth. I also met a tiny stoat on the trail—stoats are a type of weasel and they are very small and this one was very cute. It scampered out from the bushes about six feet ahead of where I was standing and it came barreling down the trail straight toward me. I didn't have time to react and capture a photo on my phone, but the stoat came down the trail, just at my feet, it beelined around me, and then continued its straight path behind where I stood, and then at some point quickly thereafter dodged back into the bushes. It was a delightful moment and I was frozen in place watching this small animal go on its way.

Silver Lake—one of the prettiest alpine lakes I've encountered in the Wasatch front. <3

Queen Anne's lace, coneflowers, ferns, aspens

these were the first lupines of the season that I saw in bloom!

coneflowers remind me of a de-petaled black-eyed Susan. I love how simple, bold, and distinctive they are.

one of many small waterfalls as seen from the trail

wild roses <3