Spring Gifts


So long since I’ve written here……My life has meandered through days and nights, weeks and months. Good and bad. Life and death. Tears of joy and sorrow.

Glorious seasons have nearly passed me by. The sizzling days of last summer slowly f.e.l.l. into an autumn were colored and crispy canopies drifted slowly down from cobalt blue to form crunchy piles of leaves for children to hide or play in. It wasn’t long before powdered sugar doilies sprinkled from puffy gray clouds that hovered above, while grandbabies begged to build lopsided snowmen below.

Finally, we’ve sprung into my favorite brush strokes on earth, where miniature rainbows sprout from the ground beneath feet of bare. Here and there and everywhere. Dart my eyes, cock my head or turn around to catch the beauty of God’s perfect watercolor pictures here and there and everywhere.

Delicate shades leap from tree limbs in powder puffs of pink together with blossom stars of white. The lake of azure near my home breeds new breaths of life. Mallard ducks honk close to shore guarding nests nearby. Birds of several varieties sing in harmony from morning dawn to the glow of moonlight while gathering food for bald babies hidden among the green of pine needles or within the waxiness of safety.

To me, spring is one of the greatest gifts on earth, a season of a budding essence, bringing peace and respite to my soul through the grace of nature.

Many blessings to all on this great Good Friday.

 

Carpe Diem


Although the calendar says, “January,” today’s temperature will top 60 degrees. Yesterday, it was nearly the same with warm winds whispering inspiration through limbs of bare.

Opening a door to the sunroom on the back of my house, scents of mixed seasons seeped through wire screens. Musty leaves floated across blades of wheat colored grass blanketing the ground. In contrast, a lone birch tree of peeling white stood tall and proud among trees bathed in cocoa bark.

Sweet sounds of morning songbirds greeted me as I sat to soak the rare gifts of a winter respite. Suddenly a crow dipped in black ink made his presence known. Caw…caw…caw, he cracked in the silent sky above. I’ve neglected nature’s gift of birds during the last few months. Their songs have been missed by the ear of my soul. Perhaps I was too busy to notice their feathered beauty? My ears and eyes, deaf and blinded by busyness….

Last fall, trees were planted off the patio in the back of my yard. Bradford pear, purple plum, birch and the dark jade of pine. A sweeping willow, long and weeping is waiting until spring. Feeders will dance from boughs and branches. Covered shelters, short and tall will soon house nesting families. 

Before retreating, treats of tweets beckoned me to scan stark limbs. There, a lone robin, his red breast splashing against a sky of gray, sang “Goodbye.”

I shall not miss nature’s beauty in this New Year. Being busy is no longer an excuse. The joy of living here and now is fleeting, with postcard pictures disappearing in seconds.

Seize today for tomorrow is never promised.

 

*photo of robin courtesy of Google Chrome

Coming Home


The beauty of nature comes to call

Whispering my name in the breath of fall

Follow me…follow me…follow me

Wisps of hair toss around my face

Foliage and fauna snap in this new place

Down a rocky slope, grab a green of rope

Hold on tight, behold such sights

Splendor at the bottom of a hill

Nature leads me back where I belong

To inner peace and birds of song

A rock of shale is my new chair

Toss a limestone pebble here or there

Say a prayer, breathe the air

Forests, streams, and heaven of sky

Never question how or why

Beating of heart begins to slow

It is now that I do know

Nature is home to me.

 

 

 

 

 

Taking Time for Change


Recently, I’ve gone through a period of feeling overwhelmed in life. Not depressed. No, I’d compare it to feeling like a small green pea in a big pot of vegetable stew. Small, while trying to stay afloat……

After helping my father with his wife’s memorial service in Arizona, I planned to catch a plane back to St. Louis where an estate sale was in process, selling off many of my home’s objects together with a long list of life’s memories.  Unfortunately, I was a day late getting back due to weather delays and missed connections. When time was of the essence, I ended up spending a total of 19 hours in the small airport of Grand Junction, Colorado. Finally, a day later, my plane was diverted to Denver, where I grabbed a quick nap from 3-5 am before catching a non-stop flight to my original destination.

Upon arriving, there was barely time to say “Goodbye” to the home I loved so much. Quickly, I walked through my turret office space, where blog posts were tapped on keys of black. I strolled into the periwinkle nursery where I remembered gently placing my very first grand-baby in her spindled crib, as though she was a porcelain doll. Images of magical tea parties danced in my head together with giggles, dress up play, and story book time.

Afterward, I stepped outside onto the red brick pavers of my patio where fingers traced petals of crunchy golden sunflowers. Looking around, I began to collect a few, forgotten colored clay pots leftover from my garden. Suddenly, a brown sugar doe leaped from the woods. Sighing, my heart knew it was God’s last gift to me….at least at this house, in this time.

It’s been three weeks since I’ve moved to my new house, and I’m mostly settled now. For whatever reason, my body and mind felt spent when all was said and done. In moves past, I worked until everything was completely in place, typically within a few days to a week. Not this time. I was tired. I let things go. My mind said, “No.”

I’m happy in my new home. There is lots of room for my grand-babies to stay for as long as they like. Nearby, there is a beautiful lake surrounded by woods and walking trails with lots of nature. In fact, it’s a nature preserve where I see something new each and every day. A different plant, the sound of a bird’s call or the beauty of a new sunrise.

Best of all, my overwhelming feeling is beginning to lift. I guess I didn’t drown in that pot of vegetable stew after all.

 

Dragonfly in the garden


In this time of death and dying within my family, Mike’s picture portrait of a dragonfly brought tears of joy to my face. Please don’t let her fly away from you.

Mike Powell

I don’t often see dragonflies in a garden, but spotted this female Eastern Amberwing dragonfly (Perithemis tenera) amidst the flowers earlier this week at Green Spring Gardens. There were lots of male Eastern Amberwings buzzing around the small ponds in another location at the gardens in hopeful expectation of finding a mate.

I have the impression that female dragonflies like to hang out in a different area from the males and then make an appearance at a time of their own choosing.

Eastern Amberwing

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

View original post

Through the Looking Glass


Faces are hidden in a mirror

Far below a peaceful bridge

Masked among nature’s beauty.

 

Fallen through the looking-glass

Eyes serene, soft of green

With voices, that whisper our way.

 

Fingers of leaves brush nearby branches

Grasping hands regardless of color

Hear the wails within the wind?

 

Gaze beneath still waters

Where all of life coexist, do you see?

Why not us? Can’t we try? I wonder why?

 

Look closing to see mirrored images

Cup your ear to hear what they say

Thump…thump….thump…thump…thump…

 

Our hearts appear within the looking-glass

Beating proudly for all mankind

Future reflections of what may be?

 

Lying beneath a peaceful bridge

Eyes serene, soft of green

With voices, that whisper our way.

 IMG_7011

 

 

 

 

Sounds In Night


The skies were angry last night. Winds whistled through swaying trees. In the darkness, the sound of small quakes could be heard together with the padding of drums. Slow at first then faster beating in a rhythm that nearly shook my bed. Softer then louder. A rumble that reminded me of throw rugs my mother used to jar outside a long ago back door. Dust bunnies blowing away in the breeze…..

Listening, my eyes were closed to everything. I’m in a world full of black nothingness. Suddenly, a sense of hearing bloomed as if for the first time. An awakening in a world others would consider silent at that hour.

My husband’s back lay close beside. Even breaths. First in…then out. Soothing to me. The flat of my hand felt his warmth through the cool of fresh, crisp sheets.

An electric clock atop our nightstand. A snapshot within my mind. Glowing hands in fluorescent moved with every second. More sounds to my ears. Tick, tick-tock, tick-tock. Each second turning into minutes. turning into hours. turning into middle night foreverness.

Doodle dog slept near the end of our bed. I heard him roll over. A silver metal disk on his collar made a clinking sound against a matching buckle. He sighed, breathing out through the black of his nose with the pink spot on top. He slept. Even breaths from him with a touch of snoring. Yes, from Doodle dog!

Humming…the sound of a motor, followed by gusts of swirling fresh. An air-conditioner installed on our outside wall had kicked in. From the stark cement basement below, the sound of wafting breezes could be heard. Pushing up…blowing cooler air to our floor above. Maple stained in cinnamon color through bronze, grated vents directing the flow. Summer relief was felt.

A car drove by the front of our house. Not a truck or a motorcycle, but a car. It was small and drove by very slowly. The sound of it told me so. Smooth of four tires on a frame of metal. Small of crunch on a bleached, chip-sealed street. Not long before it was gone.

In the adjoining bathroom, sounds of a dripping faucet. How long has this been going on? I never heard or noticed it before.  Small drops barely plopping to the bottom of a speckled sink the color of toast. Droplets falling in slow motion with an echo heard upon landing. So long before the next one fell, it seemed. Soon, seconds were counted together with our friendly electric nightstand clock. Anxiety began to build.

In the woods out back, sounds of the wind picked up again. A whoosh together with a dog howling. Or was it a coyote? We have them here you know. Hiding in the woods. Suddenly, the skies became angrier than earlier. Thunder rumbled, flashing with lightning in the distance. My eyes opened at the crack of it. Rain pounded into the patio and beat into flower beds with all of Heaven’s vengeance. Once my vision adjusted to surrounding shadows, no other sounds were heard again.

Sleepiness finally came.

Stormy-Night

*photo courtesy of Google Chrome

In The Right Place At The Right Time


Waves of white foam lapped the edge of the sand before I noticed her. Upon her back she carried a dark greenish-brown and black shell of hard. Her back legs of two were elephant-like with paddles in front for digging, I presumed. Oblivious to the world surrounding her, Mama Turtle began to cross the width of the beach. Secrets of life-to-be were nestled within the softer inside of her.

Mama Turtle inched forward on a lengthy journey where a small crowd of MAN gathered ‘round her. When approaching too close, she stopped in damp tracks, not moving or looking back. Man retreated. Once safety was assured, Mama Turtle forged ahead.

With her hard shell of dark greenish-brown and black, Mama Turtle focused on a specific area of protected land just off the beach and over the dunes. Hills and valleys of buttery beige called to her. Grasses of wild grew and blew in the breeze. Tall with tips of emerald-green and colored in lime swayed, blowing breaths from the sea.

Watching Mama Turtle scale a small dune of sand was akin to Man climbing Mt. Everest. With every inch forward, sand flew up and above, to the right and to the left, before sprinkling back down to the ground. Mama Turtle struggled, forcing her heavy shelled body inches closer to her destination through the instinct of motherhood. Once she reached the summit, she stopped to munch on lavender wildflowers near blades of grass, low to the ground.  A few moments later, she disappeared over the first of the protected dunes. Once again, sand of dry rained from the clear of the sky, and although I could not see her, I knew that she would make it.

The gathering of Man had dispersed. I was the only one who stood on the beach during an early sunrise to witness nature’s miracle from beginning to end which spanned about 45 minutes. Earlier that morning, pictures were snapped from my balcony before I skipped out, unfortunately forgetting my camera phone. Still, the entire scene will forever play in my mind like a National Geographic Special.

In the right place at the right time….

 

 *Gopher Turtles are a dry land turtle protected by the Endangered Species Act. Often found in Florida, they can live up to 80 years. Gopher Turtles nest in burrows, laying 3-15 eggs the size of ping-pong balls. Only 5-10% survive.

http://www.defenders.org/gopher-tortoise/basic-facts

 **Sunrise and Beach pictures copyright, Kim Gosselin, 2016.  Gopher Turtle photographs copyrighted and protected by individual photographers, courtesy of Google Chrome.

 

The Rainbow


My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began,

So is it now I am a man,

So be it when I shall grow old

      Or let me die!

The Child is father of the Man:

And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.”

                                  William Wordsworth

rainbow-0457

Written 3/26/1802

Published: 1807

*Photograph courtesy of Google Chrome