Tag Archives: bird

This June’s Bipolar Nature

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This June’s Bipolar Nature

What magnificent spring weather we have relished in these past three months in Missouri. In my recollection it has been many years since we have experienced three full months of spring. Typically, in these parts of Missouri, it is a long winter with a rushed four weeks of spring, then right into the heat of summer. According to the weather forecasters, that heat of the summer comes this weekend. With this true spring has come thunderstorms and tornadoes. The weather has a bipolar nature. The damaging winds wreaked havoc in the St. Louis area more than once. The city has not seen such devastation in over 50 years. Recovery is day by day.

Dean and I have a huge, 50 – 60-year-old tulip poplar tree in our backyard which became victim to a pop-up thunderstorm a couple of evenings ago. It lost three medium to big-sized branches which landed between our house and the neighbor church building. Believe me, there are plenty of other branches for its survival. Today, I spent about an hour picking up small branches in the backyard and found a few in the front yard. My injured back only allows so much bending over, and it starts talking to me. I stopped before it started screaming at me. Dean has his various sized saws in use, binding up the large branches cut to 5-foot length as required by our trash company, and the smaller branches going in our lawn refuse totes and lawn bags.

A June respite comes with the mild temperature days. Some resting, meditating, reading, and writing this month. I have to thank God we are safe after each storm. Damaging gutters and roofs can be fixed and clean-up long, but Dean and I are safe and are generally in good health. I facilitated a writers’ workshop in Clarksville, Tennessee earlier this month. The six ladies gleaned much from this workshop where my co-facilitator and I emphasized the importance of observing with all seven senses. Yes, there are seven senses identified now. The traditional five are sight, smell, taste, hearing, touch. The two others are vestibular, associated with movement and balance, and proprioception allows a person to associate one’s own body with space. These last two are related to touch. I will mention there is a spiritual sense, which would make eight senses total for those who are believers.

“A comfortable breezy June morning … The clover is now in its glory. Whole fields are rosed with it, mixed with sorrel, and looking deeper than it is. It makes fields look luxuriant which are really thinly clad. The air is full of its sweet fragrance… These are the clover days.” Henry Thoreau

Thoreau wrote several lines in his journal on June 19, 1852, mentioning many other types of vegetation such as the crops of corn and potatoes, berries on the vines with anticipation of their ripening, even mildew and fungus he writes about. Several birds are included in his journal. He doesn’t miss any of the details and uses all his senses in his writings. Midway in this journal entry Thoreau mentions clover in three sentences and concludes with “the clover days” of June.  I have seen clover growing prolifically this month. The honeybees love clover, which makes for healthy gardens. The bees will come if the chemicals are not used. Folks, keep it organic like in Thoreau’s time. Keep all those senses stimulated. And journal your experiences.

December Again

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December Again

In the busyness of the holiday season, it is good to quiet oneself for a few minutes. Stop, sit awhile with no television, electronic devices, or music playing. Breathe in deeply, listen to your heartbeat, exhale slowly. Stillness, bareness, nullity, humbleness. Oh, but I hear a mourning dove tweet outside the window while near the feeders. Excited for seeds found and water flowing from the heated fountain. A blessing to hear the bird. In my previous hustle and bustle, I missed hearing my feathered friends outside my front window. Back to deep breathing and exhaling slowly. I hear the quiet, still voice of our God. The Spirit of God surrounds me, dwells in me. Slowing down is good, even for a few minutes. All is calm and bright. The winter solstice is welcome to come again.

“Each year is a parable begun in stillness, and chill, of bare ground warmed with spring life returning, then bursting, buzzing, peaking in summer, and issuing a final flare in autumn, to subside in another winter’s seeming nullity.”

~ Stephanie Mills, Epicurean Simplicity

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
‘We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,’
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.

~ Oliver Herford~

May Days and Mothers

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The May weather has been gorgeous! Gardens and yards are popping with colors and textures. The lovely peonies and irises just opened this week. I have spent a few mediative minutes each day in my garden, planting, plucking dead foliage and blooms as well as watering. And of course, time to “cast my cares upon Him”. My mother’s favorite were purple petunias. I added some to one of my planters today to remember my mother this season. Our green perennials have perked up with the fresh sunlight, air, and rainwater. Our freshly potted herbs are thriving. This growing season we planted several varieties of mint, oregano, thyme, marjoram, sage, and basil. The basil is the lemon variety, and I hope to add that to my lemon tea bread recipe this summer. I will be hosting a workshop on the essence of lemon and herbs, sharing my lemon tea bread recipe, and how to write a block-out poem using a recipe. This will be held at a local farm. More information on the workshop is forthcoming.

Our resident fledgling robins made their way out of their nest over the weekend. We see Mama Robin flitting around at the edge of retaining wall and bushes between our house and the next-door neighbor church. Her little ones are under cover while they develop their wings and learn to feed themselves. The nest has been empty since Sunday. Robins will have another brood this season, so Dean and I thought to move the nest off our front door basket and fill the basket with something welcoming like a small ornamental birdhouse. But the nest was interwoven with the flowers, greenery, and moss basket. Dean found a huge piece of concrete to put in the nest. I searched for something a little less bulky. I found a couple of rocks at the dollar store, one says “love” and the other says “peace”. A clear message to Mama Robin to please find another place to lay your eggs and hatch your next brood. Plenty of trees and niches in our yard for Mama and Daddy Robin to build their next nest. We need our front door to be accessible. Peace and Love to all mothers, mothers in waiting, and those who love like a mama!

“We can love because He first loved us!”

1 John 4:19

Blue Eggs Found

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Blue Eggs Found

Nesty nature these spring days. In two weeks’ time a pair of robins have claimed the moss basket with fake flowers and the attached metal art “welcome” sign placed on the front door. The pair have made their nest and have laid two eggs in it so far. All this going on unknown to Dean and I until today. This discovery comes after a beautiful weekend of Easter egg hunts, goodie making, and a park side picnic amongst the green carpet and dainty purple blooms. I wasn’t on an egg hunt this morning. Dean said we shouldn’t move the nest at this time. Even after my discovery I spotted momma robin laying on her nest keeping the eggs warm. Those neighborhood critters, cats, hawks, and owls better stay away! What a lovely few weeks it is going to be as these eggs hatch into hatchlings, and then fledglings get onto their new life like those grandbabies! I will be on watch every chance I get.

 “When robins appear, loved ones are near.” ~ British folklore

Reprieve Or Not

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Reprieve Or Not

This 4th of July was the mildest that I remember for St. Louis. 80’s and low humidity. And this week following is not too hot either. A reprieve from the typical summer sultry stuff. We had days of rain, but a dry spell for a week where we actually had to water our potted perennials and annuals. My blue lobelia wasn’t happily blooming one morning, so a good soaking it received. Our lettuces and greens are fully bolted. Nature takes over and seeds are being formed to reproduce more. The bed of greens has produced scrumptious salads for two months. We had the last harvest for the season. I may get a few rows sowed for an autumn crop late in August. The rain returned this weekend, some storms with it this time. Feast or famine. The rains or dry patches.

The past few days in the backyard birdhouse a pair of Eurasian tree sparrow nestlings hollered at their parents for their feedings. Dean and I watched with careful observation as the nestlings grew, seemed to add feathers and chirps each day. The nestlings became fledglings in a matter of days. They took flying lessons from the back porch rail. After this weekend’s storm, I found one of the baby birds dead in the back yard. Not sure if its sibling had a better outcome, hopefully safe somewhere in the shelter of the trees. Life is so fragile. Death is so final or it seems. Another brood of Eurasian tree sparrows will hatch this autumn or next spring or summer. Nature and its circle of life goes round and round. Lessons to learn.

Two Peas In A Pod

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I chose to live this life alone over 12 years ago.  “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life,” one of the proverbs tell us.  My heart was sick for too many years with an unhappy relationship.  I only imagined what a happy marriage would be like.  A come-true dream is a tree of life for me today.  Eight years ago this July, Dean and I met on a semi-blind date arranged by his brother and sister-in-law.  This tall, dark handsome man captured my eyes.  But unlike the other bucks in the herd, Dean captured my heart.  So happy I pursued this relationship. With our family backgrounds and life experiences, Dean and I came together like two peas in a pod, and we still are.  Our pod is shared with our huge family almost every evening and every weekend. “If you want to go fast, go alone.  If you want to go far, go together” is how an African proverb is told.

Dean and I needed to become just “two peas in a pod” again for a few days.  We stole away to the Great Smokies, doing the Air B & B thing.  Mountains, pines, music, and the visual and culinary arts we surrounded ourselves with.  Despite the hot days while on a mountain culture retreat away from our Missouri life,  I picked two big plastic bags full of leaf lettuce and a heaping bowl full of arugula and chives from my gardens this week.  And those delectable garden peas!  I love the pods picked fresh, and peas plucked out one at a time right into my open mouth like a baby bird awaiting mother robin’s wiggly worm catch after a rainy morn.  The bountiful earth is feeding me (and my family and friends) goodness this spring.  The longer and hotter days tell me the summer equinox is soon.  Purple lobelia, wandering jew, and red geraniums are filling my moss baskets and terra-cotta pots.   I thank God for watching over my beloved gardens while pursuing what captured my heart 8 years ago!

 

 

Mother’s Day Weekend

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My Saturday was filled with caring  for green life, as so many Saturdays and Sundays in the spring time. Dean and I made an early run to the greenhouse as summer like weather was forecasted for the day. Dean mowed the grass while I attended to weeds and watering. Our peas, lettuce, spinach, arugula, parsley, and dill are sprouting. The chive plants are in full bloom. I cut a bundle, and dropped some off to Jack Mac, executive chef  and friend at Chandler Hill Vineyards. He told me how to use the blooms in my cooking this week.  For this weekend I put together a red potato salad snipping my chives and young voluntary dill sprigs into the bowl.

As tradition goes green plants and May flowers fill my Mother’s Day weekend. This year is no exception. Maybe it is tradition from my childhood.  My motherSeeds Quote still enjoys a potted tomato plant and another pot of summer favorites like petunias or geranium. This Mother’s Day I sit on the porch bench surrounded with early morning mist, song birds, and quietness from the world’s busyness. Midnight,  our Labrador joins. He, too relishes the weekly early Sunday morning date with nature. My pots of perennials and annuals complete my sensual needs this morn.

More French Art

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In my last post I shared some French influence in the culinary arts. That same evening I threw together an overnight blueberry french toast which turned out deliciously, and we have eaten on this dish the past couple of mornings.  The kitchen is not the only room where the arts have a French flavor.  The artistic style of the French poet and painter Jules Breton now resides in Dean and I’s bedroom.  Last year Dean gave me a print of Breton’s painting “The Wounded Seagull”, a replica of my favorite painting at the St. Louis Art Museum.  A thoughtful gift. The original was created in 1878 when the World’s Fair was held in Paris.  We had this print matted and framed, and now resides over our headboard.  When Breton painted it, this was a time in history when “naturalism” was replacing “romanticism” in the arts, artists portraying the daily lives of everyday people.  It is thought that Breton romanticized a common peasant girl in this painting.  The wounded seagull looks up to her while she appears to be in a far away thought.  Sea life was not easy, for the seagull or the girl.  I think this painting tells the story of so many I know and love.  We care and love each other a mist turmoil.  The conflict and contrast continue.

 

My Cup Overflows

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My cup overflows with green leaves and bursting color-filled blooms. The early morning silhouette shows plump pots, planters, and wagons, crowding the gardens and yards. Whatever vessel the spring plantings went into are now filled with branches reaching for the September sun.  The daytime heat has been high this first week of the ninth month, but is to cool down a bit by Labor Day Monday.  Yesterday’s evening soak from the garden hose did the green life well.  This morning our feathered friends thank me for their filled bird bath while the crickets, grasshoppers, and bug life hum their late summer song.

I stay home with cleaning and cooking this Saturday.  Garden fresh green beans, herb-red potato salad, and beef patties on the dinner menu with a dessert pie out so to catch up with some family this evening.  The herbs will have to wait at the greenhouse another day.  I will sing a tune or two and say a few prayers while vacuuming and cleaning the toilet …Sweet At Home Poem

Duck Audacity And Boats n Birds Bobbin

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Bird life on Island Lake this summer is very active. Forty-one loons and counting as more were being hatched this week. Two families of ducks frequent the boat dock and lake side looking for handouts. Apparently vacationers were feeding them, and the presence of more people posed the promise of more handouts. Duck audacity was proudly displayed even with our 85-lb labrador, Midnight present. Midnight had a whining fit as we kept him on the porch until the ducks and ducklings were back in water swimming safely onto their next destination. Flies, butterflies, and dragonflies flew with the breeze. Owls by night and chipmunks by day sat on the tree limbs watching the life underneath. Co-existence.
The summer rains followed Dean, my sister, and I to our beloved Minnesota. It rained everyday we were at Island Lake. But each day also included some sunshine and low 80’s. Thunderheads would build up with steam as the day went along. Then, the winds would blow the rain across the lake in sheets, causing ripples and then white caps in the lake. The cool north air would follow. Those storms created some awesome views from the porch of our favorite little red cabin or the boat dock. Dean captured a few awesome photos. Our Midnight embraced the noisy storms outdoors or on the porch with us. The thunder sounds different at Island Lake than in our Missouri home. Momma loon and her baby weathered the white caps in the bay, bobbin with each wave. Dean caught the reflection in the water as a double rainbow arched above the lake. Friendships continue after so many years. And new ones form even amongst the dogs. Another memorable week at Valhalla.