Winter Storm

Bare branches shiver in the roaring winter wind; air heavy with blowing snow, the sun dimmed, sky heavy with impenetrable clouds. All the world softened, hazy and indistinct.

Pitiless wind ripping and tearing across the land, scouring everything in its path. Wind forming snow into drifts of sculptural beauty near buildings, fences, trees, shrubs. Like smoke from a furious fire, snow pours from roof peaks and slopes.

All perennial rooted beings sleep under the cold blanket. Their life retreats inward to the roots, waiting for spring to rise again, oblivious to the wind and cold and the shifting drifts covering all the land.

Grandmother Cottonwood, snowy day

All fur bearers are safe within their burrows or weather tight nests, snuggled together for warmth. Winter birds fluff their feathers under cover, cold blooded creatures hibernate in their earthy dens, sleeping deeply beneath the frozen mud.

Dear ones, remember the wonder you felt as a child your face pressed to the icy window, watching the snowstorm rage, joyful at the school cancellation?

You were safe and warm in your lighted house, watching the fury unfold outside, feeling the fierce beauty, the raw power of wind and snow.

Hidden treasures

Dewey spider webs heavy with silver droplets. Silver nets stretching across the grassland, anchored on stalks of prairie grasses gone to seed.

Prairie spider web

Sunrise revealing hidden treasures only visible in the tender morning light. Each fragile sparkling filament shining, beaded with tiny droplets.

A fit garment for the most elegant of fairies.

Each web woven in a time honored pattern of breathtaking beauty.

Beautiful spider web

Do not blink or you will miss it. The enchantment is fleeting.

I Am One

Pearly dark storm clouds roll out of the west covering the sky, shading the sun. I am one with the moving cloud banks.

Prairie grasses, overcast sky

Trees and leafy bushes dip and dance in the afternoon breeze. I am one with the swaying branches.

Robin sings an insistent song. I am one with the singer and the song.

Bird shadow passes over the dappled green earth. I am one with the gliding darkness.

Tiny ants march in formation carrying heavy burdens. I am one with their purpose.

Amazing spider web

From my vantage point I see all. Like a spider in a web, I feel the vibrations of all that occurs.

No living being, no rock or stream, no shell on the beach, no fallen bird, no abandoned nest, no grain of sand escapes my notice.

I am one with all things.

Spring Evening

Sun sinks toward the western horizon. Light pierces through the woods creating long shadows, dramatically spotlighting a single leaf, tree trunk, branch or blossom.

Robin sings the familiar evening songs all robins have sung since this land was new.

American robin

Tender new maple leaves fan out, yellow green against the pale blue late afternoon sky. Ferns unroll their sweet green toothy leaves and stretch out in the cool shade.

Violets shelter close to the ground, lifting their purple faces among the heart shaped leaves. Bumble bees work every possible blossom while the light holds.

The plants, trees, shrubs, perennials, and what are often called weeds grow in a riot, each claiming its place, rooting down and reaching up to the light, each finding a home.

Red squirrel

Squirrels chase and take giant leaps from tree to tree, passing time with a little craziness, a little play, a little high wire act with no net.

Turkey vultures

Vultures make their way home from all across the city, soaring, catching the last updrafts of the day. They can’t resist a few final figure eights, and possibly an aerial trick or two, formation flying with their next of kin before bedtime. They finally approach the roost trees and make a production of settling down with much flapping.

The waxing moon sails like a kite above the houses waiting for night.

Now only the tree tops catch the sunlight, burnishing them a golden green or bronze for a precious moment before all is bathed once again in shadow.

All creatures and rooted beings who make their living here take their essential place in the web of life.

Our Earth turns and the sun sinks below the horizon. Time to rest and settle. Time to watch the stars come out.

Take a Memory Tour

Dear ones, are you confined, quarantined right now? Only your body is required to be at home.

Use your senses to take a tour of your favorite places in your imagination. In this way, you can take a virtual visit to your family members, remember the loved places you knew as a child, to go back in time, or visit the future.

In your mind’s eye find yourself at the place of your choosing. See the details as you approach your Grandparents’ home once more, or that small lake cottage, the town you grew up in… your childhood friends in their homes… the life you want to live when the pandemic has died down…

Here we’ve chosen a tour of Betty’s Grandpa and Grandma’s farm to get you started.

Now I approach my Grandparents’ house from so long ago, letting the details emerge… The flower boxes, colorful and spicy scented petunias, the deeply colored coleus, asphalt siding meant to look like bricks, large trees shading lush uncut grass, wildflowers along the dusty gravel road, old red barn and outbuildings with white trim… the metal pump with the cold smooth handle…

Now I call up and feel once again the texture of the gravel lane under my feet, the worn paint and sharp snap of the screen door as it closes, the heat and glow and wood-burning smell of the pot belly stove, the beloved old dog with her doggy scent and thick fur greeting you with smiles, her wet doggy kisses… Grandma’s bottle green tightly woven upholstery in the living room,

The heavenly scent and taste of thick milk gravy on beef, the sweet-tart and delicious raspberry pie, steaming from the oven, the canned peaches floating in their cream colored bowls with lavender and blue pine cone decoration…Fire crackling in the stove, the voices of those loved ones now gone, Grandpa’s aftershave…

Coyotes yipping after dark beyond the hills, hens clucking, streams of milk hitting the bucket at milking time, the sweet smells of cow manure and fresh hay, the milk separator whirring, the cream can filling…

Cars crunching on gravel, dust flying up behind them, shared songs at dusk on the front porch, simple harmonica tunes, voices joining together in familiar tunes, wooden floors creaking at bedtime….

Taking a memory tour is another way for you to spend an hour or two during this stay at home time – You can call up those sensory details of seeing, touching, hearing, tasting, and smelling that help you remember the beautiful places the people and times of your life.

Find your own memories, take a turn around the places you loved, going slowly, letting the details emerge. Revisit your children, friends, or grandchildren if you can’t see them right now.

You can also tour your future and re-imagine what your life can be, what you want it to be when you are able to move freely once again.

A memory tour will help you remember the preciousness and beauty of life here on our beloved planet.

Solstice

Low angled amber sunlight, long shadows, black skeletons of trees now visible as last summer’s dead leaves whirl away on the wind. Flocks of geese flying in formation.

Grandmother Cottonwood

Shafts of sunlight reach further and further into the house, striking a chord of memory from past winters…

Seeking out and momentarily lighting up hidden corners and far reaches. Illuminating interior hallways…

Inviting for a moment that which is hidden and dark to receive the light, to shine and glow in the clear and rare blessing of the winter solstice:

The slanting amber sunlight that turns all it touches to gold.