I was sitting on a bench in our garden the other day. A cicada landed on one of the wooden supports right next to me and sang his bittersweet song. I’ve never seen one up close like that. It felt like a special visitation.

The next day as I was brushing my teeth I heard a loud noise coming from the window. I lifted up the shade and to my astonishment, a squirrel was on the screen, just passing the time and not in any particular hurry to move along. I tapped the window to give her some motivation and off she went. Another visitation!

I am feeling a little like St. Francis of Assisi. “Brother Cicada, your Creator gave you just one note to sing – praise Him with it! Sister Squirrel, though you dirty our sidewalk with your black walnut leavings, the Creator has made you with strong jaws and an adorable tail. He is no doubt pleased with how you are using His gifts.”

Life is interesting when you know Who wrote the story and see your part in it.

Brother Blog, may you be deleted, as is proper, in the morning.

The world of dreams – if you remember them – is an endless fascination. Sometimes I have dreams that are unbelievably prosaic. Last night I dreamed, briefly, of looking in our fridge and seeing a couple large containers of cut-up fresh fruit which my husband is planning to bring to a men’s breakfast tomorrow. It must have been on my mind.

A few weeks ago, I dreamed of someone who is no longer in our lives, and about whom I had not been consciously thinking. But in my dream, I was furious with this person and we had a very loud confrontation. Wow. It must have been on my mind in some way as well.

The stories that play in our heads in the night
Are telling, revealing what’s hidden from sight.
The heart is a cavern where things go deep,
But the mind pours light on them while we sleep.

The blog is a cavern where posts go deep…but not too deep for me to delete.

Once we got over the shock of losing the wee bit of wilderness across the street, the whole process of watching an apartment building come up in its place was really quite fascinating. A blueprint became a building. What started off as an idea became a reality. Many different workers of different skills paraded over the property for a year, each one doing his part to bring the project to completion.

Two weeks ago our new neighbors began to move in. And the sunset is still as beautiful as it was before.

Sunrise, sunset, sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years…
One blog post following another, laden with wordiness and cheers.

The beautiful Mary B died one year ago today. I’ve had many moments over the year when I’ve thought, “Oh, Mom would love to hear this,” or “Mom would enjoy seeing this…” When I found out that at least one of my poems was going to be published in a poetry anthology for children, my first thought was to call Mom and tell her. She would have been so pleased.

Going through some old things (a theme of mine lately, right?), I came across a poem that Mom had written for Dad, probably right before their wedding day in June of that year.

Continue reading “Monday, September 9, 2024 The Beautiful Mary B” →

I’m still plugging away at sorting through old family photos, documents, letters, etc. and today came across a prayer that my grandma copied when she was 89 years old, entitled “A Prayer for Those Growing Old.” Author unknown.

Lord, Thou knowest that I am growing older.

Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed with the idea that I must express myself on every subject.

Release me from the craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs.

Keep me from the recital of endless detail. Give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my aches and pains. They are increasing with the years and my love to speak of them grows sweeter as time goes by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.

Make me thoughtful, but not nosy; helpful, but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom and experience it does seem a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, I want a few friends at the end.

All I can add is, “Amen to that!”

Give me wings to delete this post.

Maybe the title says it all – a poem of four words.

Coral, floral
Bingo, flamingo.

I kind of like it. But at the same time it feels like cheating, like I ought to put a little more effort into the thing. Here’s another one:

Continue reading “Thursday, September 5, 2024 Coral Floral Bingo Flamingo” →

“…there is nothing more astonishing than a human face. …it has something to do with incarnation. …Any human face is a claim on you, because you can’t help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and loneliness of it. But this is truest of the face of an infant.” from the book Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

I’ve been thinking about the human face – in particular how hard it is to draw one. I’ve drawn and painted birds and animals and have not found it too hard to get the idea across there. One robin looks pretty much like another. Animals have faces, and sometimes even unique ones, but nothing like the ensouled human face. I’m not just drawing a type of a creature, I’m trying to get across the individuality of a person. No one human looks just like another. Even identical twins develop slight differences that distinguish them from each other to those who know them well. The difficulty of communicating what makes a person look like who they really are, capturing the essence of them, makes you appreciate those who do portraits well. Much of it is in the eyes, I think.

Continue reading “Wednesday, September 4, 2024 The Human Face” →

We purchased a travel trailer recently and the first order of business was to take it out on a short “shakedown cruise” to a campground at a state park not too far from us. And since we were out and about, we decided to visit the National Eagle Center in Wabasha for our Minnesota Meanderings in August. For previous meanderings, see these posts: Spam Museum, Bell Museum of Natural History, Como Park Zoo and Conservatory, Fort Snelling, and Great Lakes Aquarium.

Back to the breakdown cruise – I mean, shakedown cruise – we chose to revisit one of our favorite state parks from the hiking club years: Whitewater. My husband suggested we call our new camper “Bag End,” which is a nod to Lord of the Rings. Our faithful white Honda Pilot has already been named “Shadowfax,” so it seemed only fitting to continue the theme. Bag End proved to be a wonderfully cozy little home in the forested campground.

Continue reading “Tuesday, September 3, 2024 Minnesota Meanderings August 2024: The National Eagle Center” →

As I write this, I hear the cicadas tuning their instruments. It’s a one-note symphony from their section of the orchestra, the irrefutable signal that summer is coming to an end. It’s sharp, emanating invisibly from the trees, cutting across all the other sounds of the day. People that study these things say that the male cicada is trying to attract females. This may be true, but the we know the real words to their song:

I tell of the air turning cooler at night
I tell of the swans beginning their flight
I tell of the leaves soon changing and falling
I tell of the winter nights soon to come calling…

They cannot help what they sing and we cannot help knowing what is to come when they sing it: the sharp hues of autumn, the beauty of burning gold.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Deleting will come in the morning.

P.S. If the photo(s) on my posts look distorted, it has to do with a setting on your phone. It’s easiest just to view the post on my blog, rather than reading the email that delivered it to you. There is a way for you to navigate to my blog from the email and I’m confident you’ll find it.

Whir, whir
The hummingbird
Moves so fast
Its wings are blurred

Hum, hum
The hummingbird
Low-pitched thrum
Is hardly heard

Sip, sip
The hummingbird
Needle-like beak
The zinnias stirred

Gone, gone
The hummingbird
Flies away
Without a word

---

---

---

---

---

---

Don’t blame the camera, blame the bird!

This post will fly away in the morning without a word.

To clarify, the word “mostly” modifies the word “garden,” not the word “edibles.” Glad to clear that up for you. But some things that are from the garden aren’t edible. And some things that are edible aren’t from the garden. It’s basically a free-for-all with the word “mostly” now.

I’m going to try to use a WordPress feature that I don’t usually use (a way to put photos and text side by side) because (a) nothing about technology comes intuitively to me, and (b) it’s different and I’m change-averse. Glad to clear that up for you, too.

These days I’ve been busy in the kitchen pottering about making things from what we’ve been growing.

Continue reading “Thursday, August 29, 2024 The Workshop: Edibles from the Garden (Mostly)” →