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Posts Tagged ‘spring’

Here I am! It’s been a most welcome rain laden week here in the bone dry foothills of the Sierra Nevadas. How glorious to see water cascading down my windows and to watch the plants and trees lift up their heads to respond to a good dowsing of spring precipitation.

On the subject of plants, flowers, plants and cards keep arriving on behalf of my mother’s passing. My spare bedroom is beginning to look a bit like a florist shop. Recently, I came home to find the largest orchid I’ve ever seen waiting for me on my front porch. The stem nearly eclipsed my front door. If orchids could have an expression, this one would have worn one when it saw me that said, “Oh, no!!!! It’s her.” Had it legs, it would have bolted down the street and disappeared around the corner. The word is out, I do not have good luck with orchids. The last one barely made it a month before I held a small ceremony for it over the trash can to wish it well on it’s last journey. I’ve tried ice cubes, less water, more water, gentle pleading, and still watch in sadness as the lovely petals float to the ground one at a time until there are none remaining. Dum, du, dum, dum, dummmm.

I also have four large outdoor plants sent by family and friends to plant in mother’s honor. I am trying to decide where to plant these. My roots don’t grow very deep these days. I’ve lived in my current home for nearly three years, but with the cost of living going up I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to sustain remaining here. As I’ve said, I need to generate some income, so that is on the agenda front and center as soon as I return from a short vacation already planned for May. Planting them here, would be mean leaving them here. The people who sent them each included a wish they be put in the soil either where I am, or family is, to remind us of our missing piece. Hmmmm. For now, I will leave them in their respective pots until I’ve figured out my plan for the future, and concentrate on not offing the absolutely gorgeous unsuspecting orchid sitting on my window sill.

Yesterday, I went on a local art tour with a friend of mine. The weather after the recent rain, was glorious, with temperatures ranging in the mid eighties. Overhead, the sky was the most brilliant blue, only to be interrupted when white billowy clouds floated by from time to time. The tour involved twelve artists, each inviting the public into their galleries and studios to view, and purchase, if desired, their artwork. Wow. When you see artisans so truly dedicated to their craft it is humbling. Made me immediately want to come home and take out my sketch books. Boy, I was definitely suffering from “studio envy”. These established artists had large well lit spaces to create their work. Decided I need to manifest that in my own life. As I say often, you can’t sit around waiting for life to happen to you, you have to get out there and make it happen for you. How, well that’s another story, yes?

Along with finding the studios impressive, and the artwork created there, the houses we visited were quite beautiful as well. The first, was a huge structure, with an massive back yard. The artist was from Japan, and the yard clearly reflected his cultural background. Gorgeous metal fountains, each different than the next, lent a zenlike feeling to the area. Impressive arrays of colorful flowers sprung up from the beds by the fence and a long vegetable garden dominated the right side of the property. In one corner, perhaps my favorite part of the day, the artist directed us to a huge bush. On one branch, towards the back, rested a diminutive nest. Tucked inside was the tiniest of hummingbirds. We were told she was sitting on several eggs waiting to be hatched. Nature, as always, of all things in life, has the power to move me beyond explanation. So tiny was this little mum, and though big human faces were looming in at her from outside her hiding place, she remained fast on her perch guarding her little ones. So sweet that was.

Around noon, we discovered a French restaurant neither of us had frequented. Passing it, we were drawn in by the exterior which was reminiscent of a structure you might find along a Paris street. Lunch on their patio was creamy eggs Benedict eaten under the abundant shade of the huge trees. Beyond the cement, were lavender bushes in full bloom, and music played in the background. All in all, it made for one of the better parts of a nearly perfect day.

At the last stop we made, we discovered a park adjacent to it where they had zip lining. The zippers, if you will, repelled across what used to be an operating rock quarry. I definitely have this penciled in for my future, the when and where still left to be determined. For me, careening across the treeline of the Amazon would be the ideal backdrop, but I don’t see that happening in either the near or the distant future in my world. I did take steps in my traveling hopes this past week, by actually filling out the paperwork to get my passport renewed. Where I’m going I don’t know yet, but wherever the wind blows me, I will have my paperwork in order to be able to get there. Check and check.

So, I am off to church with a friend this Sunday morning. A little chicken soup for the soul. My mind is open to all ways of looking at this world, unless harmful or malignant. I try to take a ladle from this pot, and then a ladle from that. Let’s face it, no one really knows the universe’s most well kept secrets up until this point, so who’s beliefs are right and who’s are wrong is still open for discussion. To my mind, if what you believe works in your life and doesn’t hurt others, then it is right for you. Thankfully, in this country, each of us is granted the option to follow our own logic and way of thinking. No one has the right to declare themselves the only one with all the answers as of this writing as far at least as I am aware.

Have a blessed day. Dance with the butterflies and smell the delicate fragrances spring has in her bag for you on this lovely Sunday. Kiss a frog, make a friend, be open to all that is wild and beautiful. When we are surrounded with so much unrest sometimes, we must find peace within ourselves.

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So tempting right now to feel sorry for myself. No one can deny this is a trying time in our world. I’m sure it will be talked about, analyzed, and revisited often by generations to follow. Yesterday the sadness at the loss of my personal freedom became real for the first time. I feared a pity party to be on the horizon. My way of dealing with a full on, no holds barred, over the top Susie Pity Party is to immerse myself in the spirit of it, blow up a few balloons (probably using real explosives), then calm down, eat a brownie and get over it. If you can’t get around a mood then hop in the middle of it, get it out of your system, and move on.

Lately the earth feels unsettled. At least it does to me. Oceans are rising, ice caps are melting, infighting is the name of the game in Washington and all over the U.S., and though the economy may have seen some improvement (up until now of course) the middle class has slowly been whittled down from a strong robust tree to a toothpick. Hard not to be a little pessimistic when looking at the big picture. Yet, in spite of the virus tormenting us at the moment, just beyond my spare room a cherry tree proudly displays it’s gorgeous array of vibrant pink blooms. Each time I pass the window, the boughs beckon me invitingly as if to say, “enjoy”. Somehow spring with it’s warming days and light breezes, no matter what else may be casting shadows, always brings with it a fresh breath of hope. The trees, bare and skeletal during the winter months, begin to bud and flower. Bulbs push stems up through the earth, calves litter the pastures as you drive along rural roads, and Easter, a time of rebirth and renewal appears on the calendar. Life seems not to be ignored, and a fresh new face is painted on the land.

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In this spirit of spring I decided to pull the potting soil out of my shed along with my trowel and gloves and tackle the front yard potting project I’ve been putting off. While out in the back gathering what I needed, a little freckled face surrounded by a mass of unruly copper curls appeared over the fence. The girl, after politely inquiring as to who I was, responded in kind by informing me her name was Bridget. Her conversation, as unpredictable as her ringlets, moved from one subject to another as quickly as a drill sergeant marching down the line inspecting his platoon. Though never had I seen the tenants up until now, I was aware the house was recently occupied. Mom, I knew this only because Bridget was a fount of information, was seated on the back steps staring intently at the book on her lap. Looking up only when prompted by her daughter, she introduced herself maintaining an acceptable social distance, then returned to her book once the pleasantries were done. With mom otherwise engaged, Bridget continued shining her light directly on me firing questions in machine gun fashion one after another. I could still here her voice after I’d excused myself and disappeared beyond the fence towards the front of the house. During the exchange Miss Bridget told me about her two dogs, Pluto and Reggie. Reggie, looking to me to be a bull terrier mix, had already made my acquaintance some weeks back while I was sitting at the dining room table doing paperwork. Movement outside the window caught my eye. Looking up Reggie stood perched on the narrow ledge along the fence dividing the two houses. He checked me out for a moment then nimbly hopped down on the street side of the fence. Working his way to my front yard, after twenty minutes of sniffing, seemingly satisfied he’d located his sweet spot, he squatted and left a large introductory gift on my grass. “Thank you, Reggie”.

Like everyone else I’m feeling the walls close in a bit at my house with my time being spent just hanging out with Miss Boo. Not that she’s not good company mind you, she is, but I have to say she’s not much of  conversationalist. Yesterday I was sharing something interesting I’d read on the internet with her and the cat unabashedly turned her back on me and yawned. Even for a feline, she has attitude.

While I’m feeling a bit isolated, others may be suffering from too much togetherness. Little ones tiring of games and TV may be beginning to chafe at the bit to get out of the house and spend some of their excess energy. Parents, having their name called forty times before pouring their first cup of coffee, may be wishing they could have a moment’s peace before starting their day.  For me, I’m craving a little human companionship. The closet thing I’ve had to personal interaction in days was Miss Bridget of the fence and the Door Dash delivery guy who dropped dinner off on the porch and sprinted for his car.  I surely miss Rick during these times. Feels like the last couple of years I have been constantly doing battle. I’m ready to put down my sword and declare peace across the land. I’m tired. A little calm would be most welcome. When I find myself in a tight spot such as now it is helpful to remind myself of the people far less fortunate. Street people, for example, with no shelter to comfort them, no heat at the touch of a fingertip, and no one to comfort them if they are sick. Usually this is the kick in the behind I need to restart my engine. Today is no exception.

Miss Bridget arrived to remind me new life is a constant no matter what is going on around us. Planting the yard to show there is perpetual flux in the world we live in. The flower bed, nothing but soil and rocks at the moment, will be a riot of color in a few weeks teeming with life. Bees will be buzzing around the new blooms helping to pollinate a new another season of growth. Change isn’t an easy pill to swallow. We are faced at right now with total disruption of our routines and uncertainly in our future. This does not make for solid ground on which to plant our feet. However, we humans seem to show our best sides to the camera when times are tough. Stories of neighbor helping neighbor, brave first responders, generous donors, keep popping up on the news programs to boost our morale and remind us in the end we are all in this together.

Keep the faith, keep busy, get to know your neighbors (from a safe distance), lend a hand when and where you can, and ride out the storm safely. Have a productive day.

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