April 2010

Happy Earth Day!!

Anthea and Marigold celebrate by singing a spring rain song with their friend Starling. The European Starling still wears his beautiful spotted winter coat.























Springtime falls on waiting stem

It falls on grasses new,

Anemone, Lenten Rose,

Dainty Scilla blue -


Misty morning buttercup

Cowslips full of dew,

Over, under, all around,

Springtime falls for you!

February 2010

Snowgeese sail overhead, their voices different than Candada Geese, but equally pleasant. Equally enthusiastic. Equally Majestic.

I can't help but run alongside. I wish I could journey with them, see what they see, feel what they feel. Know what they know.












Snow comes, and snow goes, like the two sides of a bridge. On one, the current flows towards you - inhale. On the other, away - exhale. Like all good blessings, it's the coming and going that makes them doubly sweet.

Mother Nature does not hoard her snow, off it goes to nourish rivers and streams. Likewise with us. A smile, or a compliment nourishes those downstream.

Inhale - receive.
Exhale - release.

Turn around and watch. The water's still coming - don't worry about that. It loves the flow.

January 2010

Have you ever held a kitty so close
and then had to let go?

Yet,

Does a Tree wish her leaves
back in her arms?

Or a Breeze take back her breath?

No, I think they chance it.

Maybe leaves get heavy, or air stale.

Or maybe they have a job to do . . .

Leaves crinkle and color the ground,

Breezes sway and lift birds in the air,

Raindrops cleanse, Snowflakes sparkle,

A smile soothes,

A word heals,

A thought carries - like the sound of a bird
Waiting to be picked up.

The January landscape is barren, but not empty. Everywhere there is promise, promise, promise. That letting go is the answer to receiving. The sleeping groundhog who laid his head down in Autumn is promised a warm spring, the buds that decorate the limbs of trees are the promise of leaves gone by, of leaves let go. The birds sing, (can you imagine if they didn’t!), they sing for all they’re worth and so, Spring comes.

New Year's Eve 2009

Quiet stars rest in the meadow
As if a piece of heaven has come
down to rest among the sleeping roots
and trees and flowers
Maybe humming
Maybe listening
but surely trusting
in the well-being of
Winter's quiet breath.


There is nothing so fun as being engulfed in a winter's twilight. Among quiet, but stirring trees; among hidden, but breathing flowers; among starlight, surely calling you home.

December 2009

November 2009

Crisp leaves scurry across the ground, breaking free from the morning frost. Bare branches sway like cathedrals against a darkening sun. A late chirp of sparrows interrupts November’s quiet dusk.


It’s the time for Thanksgiving.
And how grateful I am for the woods; this one, the one I had as a child, the ones I will have when I’m old. I think - though thousands of miles apart- they are the same. I think tree energy surpasses lines on a map. I think the hum echoes, travels, shares, waits open-armed. And I suppose if I was to sit against a tree, might I feel you against yours?

Oh for the grace of trees.

Anthea and Marigold listen to November’s heartsong . . . colorful as cranberries, sincere as the frosted leaf, thick with promise, and endless as one’s imagination.

September 2009

If Autumn were a lady, she would smile golden pearls

And Scarlet birch would dress her cheeks

If Autumn were a lady,

She might whisper breezes

Through crackled leaves

She might hold your hand and sing furrows into the leaves

on the meadow path

And in the tops of trees, deliver

Lullabies of floating leaves; September's birthsong

If Autumn were a lady

She might dangle threads of flame

Across the water

I would smell sweet woodsy spice in her footfalls

I would run to catch up with her

And watch her let go of things

Laughing

Delighting in the look of it

The feel of it

The freedom (oh the promise of letting go)

If Autumn were a lady, her middle name would be faith.