Friday, October 26, 2012

October 2012

I have a Gratitude Bench in the meadow and there I sit,
letting whatever wants to come, come. . .

A song sparrow making notes in the branches behind me,

the wingspan of a turkey vulture soaring overhead,

A Ruby Crowned Kinglet, swift as a fairy, comes to say hello.  He knows he is one of my favorites, and he knows where to find me.  His diminutive size says nothing about his personality.  With wings like a hummingbird, he hovers about the goldenrod, though for bugs or seeds I could not tell. 

There is no fear. 
He simply searches out what he knows he will find.

A fascinating movie he makes.  The white ring around his eye, the streak of red that makes him royalty.

He is a welcome visitor, gracing the meadow only during migration.  He has a brethren, the Golden Crowned Kinglet, which I have yet to see.  Perhaps if I wait long enough, I will create one.

The bench always fills.


Thursday, June 21, 2012

May 2012

If the angels are smiling, the bluebirds will nest here as they have the past 4 years.

They are a glorious bunch.

A busy bunch.

Striking in their summer blue.

The sun plays tricks on their backs

making an already radiant blue shimmer

like the sea.

Catching the light, and throwing it back

A shared gift, I suppose --

That sun smiling down,

the blue saying Yes!

Thank goodness for the peace makers

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

January 2012

My dear snowdrops come with a history. They were gifted to me from a dear friend who lived her young life in the scilla covered slopes of England.

A life of fairies and beautiful legends.

A place where make believe and reality were content to sit side by side without all the traditional arguing you sometimes see in modern times.

No, these snowdrops are the real thing . . .

Kissed by legend,

Bound by the ancient oath,

Filled with lullabies, nurturing stories of a better time

deep, deep within their roots.