Saturday, March 7, 2015

3.7.15 This afternoon I caught sight of his silver-grey fur, his pink pink self



     Last night, the Possum left tracks, as they quietly made their way from their home to the compost, for a cold late night dinner. Tossing bits of food here and there, looking for something good.
     Today, getting up from resting, I saw their beautiful furred self in the compost, went to grab my camera, slippers on, and high-tailed it out the door, into the yard, and driveway, to catch a glimpse , hoping to take care and not scare them too much.
     I love Possums. I do. Brought many a baby to rehabilitators.
     This little boy is barely a teenager, but has made it through the tough tough winter, probably because the Coywolves stopped coming by, with the deep snow.
     This afternoon I caught sight of his silver-grey fur, his pink pink self, as he made his slow careful way from the compost,across the driveway, past the cottage, out into the woods. Beautiful.




Ah, the 1/2 second movie



His tracks,  from last night. And yeah, it's a boy!


3.7.15 Things are looking up



Today 36• . 
45• tomorrow. 
46• next week. 
Things are looking up.

3.7.15 "Let the beauty



"Let the beauty we love be what we do. 

There are a hundred ways 
to kneel and kiss the ground." 
             
              Rumi

3.7.15 Only the Moon Knows


Only the moon knows how long the
brook runs in springtime. How wide the
Owl’s winged arc through the
darkened forest tonight

The moon, who mere humans imagine
grows and shrinks somehow, far up in the
heavens above us; like children, we tell
tales - how it is female, and transforms

The truth is more powerful, enough to
render us speechless. The intense
gravitational pull over birth, death ; our
knowing,menses, deepest dreams



3.7.15 On Daylight Savings



      "Only the white person would believe
 that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket
 and sew it to the bottom of a blanket 
and have a longer blanket.’

3.7.15 The Magic of Yiiddish

Ah, loved this. My first boyfriend (age 15-23 ) had parents in Westchester County, NY, from Germany and Cuba respectively. From a little ,stultifying WASP town on the South Shore of Boston to their home, I was embraced as a daughter amongst their 5 sons, and to evade us all , they would quickly switch from Yiddish to Spanish to German and back. I loved all the Yiddish words, that sounded so expressive, like condensed experiences, and to this day, when too tired or too stressed, out comes a lilting New York accent, filled with all the Yiddish I learned. In my practice, often the best known , eg. oy vai iz mir, would come out, making my Israeli clients turn about and look with surprise.
A Yiddish Poem by Gene Wilder
Yiddish was the secret code, therefore I don't farshtaist
A bisseleh maybe here and there, the rest has gone to waste.
Sadly when I hear it now, I only get the gist,
...
My Bubbe spoke it beautifully; but me, I am tsemisht.
So oi vei as I should say, or even oy vai iz mir,
Though my pisk is lacking Yiddish, it's familiar to my ear.
And I'm no Chaim Yonkel , in fact I was shtick naches,
But, when it comes to Yiddish though, I'm talking out my tuchas.
Es iz a shandeh far di kinder that I don't know it better
(Though it's really nishtgefelecht when one needs to write a letter).
But, when it comes to characters, there's really no contention,
No other linguist can compete with honorable mentshen:
They have nebbishes and nebechels and others without mazel,
Then, too, schmendriks and schlemiels, and let's not forget schlemazel.
These words are so precise and descriptive to the listener,
So much better than "a pill" is to call someone 'farbissener'.
Or - that a brazen woman would be better called Choleria,
And you'll agree farklempt says more than does hysteria.
I'm not haken dir a tshainik and I hope I'm not a kvetch,
But isn't mieskeit kinder, than to call someone a wretch?
Mitten derinnen, I hear Bubbe say, "It's nechtiker tog, don't fear,
To me you're still a maven, zol zein shah, don't fill my ear.
A leben ahf dein keppele, I don't mean to inte rrupt,
But you are speaking narishkeit.....
And ...A gezunt auf dein kop!"

3.6.15 Down By The Summit Road In The Freezing Cold


Down by the Summit, on the Mt. Holyoke Range early this morning,
 for a small meander in the free-freezing cold, 
as the birds call out to spring
 and the sun blazes down upon us all.

Friday, March 6, 2015

3.6.15 Humans growing up

The more we understand about other species, the more we humans grow up and leave behind
 our species centric narcissism.