Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
A Song for Winter
Let Winter come,
cool and healing,
like the laying of hands
upon a fevered brow.
Let Winter's hush
lay upon us,
like new-fallen snow,
still and undisturbed.
Let Winter's subtle palette
paint the earth and sky,
letting our eyes rest
for a time.
Let Winter's cadence,
a long, deep breath,
slow our steps,
and steady our beating hearts.
Let Winter nourish us,
as the slowly melting snow
nourishes the earth
in the spring.
~ original poetry by Aisling, all rights reserved, December 20, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
The styrofoam ornament above is one that my husband made as a child. It is hanging on the tree next to an ornament our youngest son made at preschool last year, and above one that his aunt crocheted early in our marriage. At Christmas time, the years and memories of our family are all stitched together, homespun and heartwarming, like a patchwork quilt.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Thursday, December 06, 2007
photos by Aisling, December 6, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Here is just a bit that appeals to me, as autumn is hidden beneath a blanket of snow:
the trees are bare.
The geese have flown,
and children are home by fires.
The grapes are jam,
and pumpkins, pie.
gather close tonight:
Winter slips in."
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
At this time of year, there are afghans and throws tucked into baskets and draped over chair backs all over my house. If we are spending the day at home, by late afternoon there are extra blankets in use on the couch, as someone naps or relaxes while watching a movie. In the photo above, little Aidyn is napping, cat-style in a beam of sunlight, on a pile of blankets which I folded and stacked in the rocker.
photo by Aisling, November 10, 2007, Aidyn napping
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
I have learned this week that I don’t know how to write about sorrow. A young friend , a seventeen year old girl, has been killed in a car accident along with a 20 year old man. The other passenger in the car, a 19 year old man, has been seriously injured but is doing well. I have tried several times to write of this tragedy, which came one week after the suicide of another young man in our community, but how do you summarize a life in a few paragraphs? How do you put into words all of the ways that grief colors your days?
I have learned that my community embraces families that endure such tragedies with food and financial support, sharing memories and tears. That is a positive thing about our community, but I wish I did not learn it through such sad circumstances as our friends losing their beautiful vibrant daughter. I wish I did not have to find out how many people in our community loved the seventeen year old with the amazing friendly smile after she was gone. And I wish, so much, that I did not have to hold my daughters, or watch them huddle together with their friends, while their bodies shook with inexpressible grief.
On the ride home, we stopped to hike a path in a national forest. We walked 300 steps downhill to fresh water springs filling the wide slow-moving expanse in a river bed. The sound of the gurgling freshets, the crisp leaves underfoot, the deep peaceful shade under a canopy of branches restored us, as we walked together.
The photos that accompany this post are from Haiku’s walk closer to home today. She went to find the quiet, and to walk the healing trail through the shadows and light in the woods.
Friday, October 26, 2007
The leaves are falling now. The temperature is falling, dipping to freezing over night. Last night's rain and the early morning dew are dripping from the eaves of the house. As I write this, the brilliant full moon of October, the leaf-falling moon, has fallen below the western edge of the sky. But there are two sides to most things in nature, the light and shadow of things. And so this morning, mist is rising from the lakes and fields. The sun is slowly rising, spilling golden light over the eastern hills. And in our warm little house, sleepy family members are rising one by one.
photo by Aisling, October 26, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
wind is moving through the leaves
an October song
Monday, October 22, 2007
If you are reading and I haven't met you yet, please leave a note on my door (otherwise known as a comment.) I'd love to meet you and to extend the borders of my blogging community even further.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I was pleased to find a few moments to take photos on this busy autumn day. This poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay expresses the deep joy that one can find in nature. Is this joy more poignant in Autumn, because we know that winter will soon be here? It's very late in the evening, but I have another load or two of laundry before I can go to bed, or some family members will have "nothing to wear" tomorrow! *grin* I'm tired and sleep is calling my name, but waiting for laundry has given me an opportunity to share a poem by a favorite poet. I hope you enjoy it!
O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!
Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart, -- Lord, I do fear
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me, -- let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call. ~ by Edna St. Vincent Millay
photos by Aisling, October 17, 2007 1) Leaves on the fiesta maple 2) Haiku taking a walk; 3) other leaves on the Fiesta Maple
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
A cold wind is blowing this morning. The early morning scramble for heavy jackets inspired me to clean out the front coat closet. It looks tidy and smells like lemon-grass and ginger essential oils and I have discovered a few things: Sijo has lost his winter coat, which would still fit him this year as it was purchased a little large last winter. I'll just add that to the shopping list. Haiku doesn't like any of the women's winter coats in our closet. None of them were purchased especially for her, and none of them quite suit her style. This may be the year that I buy her a good quality new one, since at nearly 15 years old, she is not going to get much taller (much to her dismay!)
I also noticed that this closet is one of the spaces in my home that has never been painted, beyond the initial one coat of ivory paint, that has faded and chipped over the years we've lived here. I may have to do a closet "make-over" this fall, as I did with my linen closet earlier this year. Hopefully I have some nice paints on hand in the basement left over from some other projects.
My good intentions are piling up like old magazines around the house. I have projects I want to do, breads to bake, autumn tasks in the garden to tend to. But these days, my mornings are dedicated to appointments or laundry, my afternoons to working, my evenings to after-school activities and homework. These obligations set the pace of my days and I have not yet found the quiet niches of time for reading, writing, or even rolling up my sleeves and tackling a project. I will... I just haven't yet.
I will make the time this weekend to pop some tulip bulbs in the ground with Tanka (he helped me pick them out) and to twist pretzels in the kitchen on Sunday afternoon.
photo by Aisling, October 2007, Cloud Tower over the back hill.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Monday, October 01, 2007
The subdued tones of autumn, the mellow golds and brittle browns, may look like things are dying for the year, but as I took my walk yesterday afternoon what I saw all around was life replenishing itself. Stalks of tall grass were dropping seed into the creek bed and milkweed pods were swelling with their own downy seeds. Ripe grapes and viburnum berries, rose hips and thistle seed offered a feast to wild creatures, while ensuring their own abundant return.
photo by Haiku 1) Praying Mantis photos by Aisling: 2) Wild Grapes 3) Green Milkweed Pod 4) the seeds of a wild creek grass 5) thistle 6) rose hips 7) wild purple asters
Friday, September 28, 2007
My favorite source for moon names, however, refers to September's full moon as "The Seeking Moon." That name intrigues me... slows me down to contemplate it's meaning. The Dalai Lama said, "I believe that the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness. That is clear. Whether one believes in religion or not, whether one believes in this religion or that religion, we are all seeking something better in life. So, I think, the very motion of our life is towards happiness..."
What are you seeking, as September mellows into October and the earth offers up her bountiful harvest?
photo Aisling, September 27, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The road through autumn
is freckled with falling leaves
scattered by the wind.
One morning, frost gilds the earth
in silver bits of winter.