4.25.14 Something We Begin To Notice

Something we begin to notice as we grow older is that the most memorable, thick with import, moments of our lives are not the disney movie type vignettes.

But rather the depth of feeling involved in either the day to day small experiences.. morning tea, the laugh with a neighbor, the brush of lips upon ours of a beloved, setting our home to rights, arriving at work fresh and ready for the day, or at peace with the present that our day consists of ; or other small, often repetitive experiences. 

Yet, sometimes, an experience that stays with us, with feeling, may not be a wonderful dinner or conversation or sunset, but an odd difficult something else, that leaves us with something indescribably rich and deep and lasting.

One of my most memorable moments that still is clear to me as that day, involved sitting in a car, holding hands silently with my husband, in a city of Springfield parking garage.

Low, dark grey cement ceiling. A view before us of city buildings. The heat, so early in the morning, already oppressive.

He quietly sat with me, and I settled myself prior to a disposition, where opposing lawyers would try to disprove the severity of a brain injury I had sustained. 

We simply sat and looked ahead and breathed together. And that closeness, that devotion, that comfort and mutuality at that moment settled deep down into my soul.

It so happens that we then walked in to have me questioned and cross questioned, we discovered that their neurologist , who they  had paid $8,000 to examine me and disprove any assertions of lasting injury, gave them a 'hands down, too bad, its all true statement'. 

Somehow they had just then opened the report, and the evident dismay splayed across their faces.

They then walked up to me, went belly up, we all signed a slew of papers, and we were out of there.

Fast as could be. The end.  Holding hands, as the day went on its way.

In pretend, tv, disney land, you would imagine the most important days would be things like victories or lifesavings or births or falling in love and all.

And those are so remarkable, and often sear our very essence.

 But the small gems of day to day life , or the errant stilled times , often have the capacity to transform us ; to transform that which we are made of.

4.25.14 Lately, Almost Each Day,

Lately, I realize ,almost each day ,

the things I have not forgiven myself for.

 I'm amazed at what I've been uselessly

 lugging around for 61 years.

 Grateful they are making their way

 to the surface, to be forgiven , and set free.

4.23.14 The true emergence of baby-tender, brightest green

Sunset tonight, with the wild winds gusting through the ravines - trees creaking ; the spring cleaning of dead leaves and weakened branches.

Burgundy Trillium up all across the woods, and about to sing.

Bee Balm erupting in tiny velvet  sprouts, as we all relish the Daffodil and Pansy, and soon, Tulip. 

The Carolina Wren couple made a play for the Phoebe couple's nest site, an annual moss-woven nest protected beneath the roof, atop the outside light - and failed. 

The first Bluebird showed up, just glisteningly glorious, as new moths and more than a few overwintered Monarch caterpillars are unfurling their furred selves, and crawling out into the sun.

As two pairs of Great Blue Herons fly gracefully overhead. 

While a client today described the sighting of a Northampton Heron Rookery! 

Later, I stroll into the garden, to press wood into the base of the winter-buffeted arch, hanging out the small brass bell , to toll its clear chime with each gust of breeze.

I then fill the bird bath with crystal clear water. And lean down to pull an exuberant Sorrel leaf, walking away as I savor the blood enriching tang that turns my mouth and mind alive and awake to the arrival of spring. 

As the fallen Maple florets flutter in the wind, filling the air and then covering the ground with the minute flowers, now done with their task, drying upon the earth.

In preparation for the true emergence of baby-tender, brightest green,  first of all,  leaves.

4.15.14 Thou Answerest Them Only With Spring

"Thou answerest them only with Spring"                                 e.e.cummings

4.18.14 Blared Reply

Pink and blue stripes, all across the sky - until the setting sun blared its golden reply.

4.19.14 Still A Surprise

Out meditating on this cool Saturday morning,

It still comes as such a surprise to me,

each time I lay down the presence of holding the past and anticipating the future,

like two weighty packages I tend to pick up and lug about with effort. 

Everytime,  I wake with a start and realize that's why my arms feel strained and my step lagging.

I settle, and in doing so, in just watching and feeling as I inhale .... And exhale ... they somehow slip from my fingers, a weight lifted. 

The cool April air around me is contrasted by the profound warmth of the sunshine on my cheek and head and arm - such a delicious, penetrating heat. 

The sky above  so deeply blue and endless, punctuated by the burgundy floret celebrations of the old Maple, singing across the sky.

The Phoebes busily building a nest as they do each year.

The cacophony of the Bluejays as they play and race across the field.

One young Turkey hen steps from the thicket by the forest, out into the field, glances at me, and heads quickly down the hill, and out of sight. 

The earth turns, as I sit, the sun slowly coming into view;

 my feet like roots solid upon the moss,

the clouds on the horizon lifting away from the Tibetan Peace Pagoda, far off in the hills,

 as a Robin trills from the waking Aspen, and the day begins.