“And don’t think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter.
It’s quiet, but the roots are down there riotous.”
{Rumi}
Tag Archives: Nature
Life Lately.
Two of my dearest friends came to visit for the week.
We talked and laughed and explored the streets together and were reminded why we have loved each other so much from the start
Who couldn’t love a friend with penguin socks?
We ransacked the dessert section in my favorite Italian coffee shop
And explored all the beautiful streets and corners of some of my favorite towns. I could take a picture of every perfect little piece of New England architecture
And perfect little bird houses too
The other day after exploring my favorite bookstore I came home with lots of old maps, a book printed on a letterpress with raised words you can feel when you run your fingers over the page, a stunning book of American poetry with a bunch of my favorite authors all wrapped up between the same two covers, and a little bitty book of Shakespeare too :]
The trees are blushing crimson in the warm light of spring
And the sunshine is warming everything up
And these two are warming my heart up :]
The World is Waking Up
“i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)”
The poem i thank you God for most this amazing by e. e. cummings
Listen to the Rain
Listen to the rain pounding on the glass.
Its rain not snow— we’ve come out of one thing and into another. Winter inches back, spring unfurls in raindrops and daffodils.
The sky is gray today but the clouds water the earth and we are all waking up to new life and new hope. There is blue sky and sunshine behind the clouds of gray. There is green grass and flowers vibrant waiting under the damp sod.
The rain means something; it means we are to the end of one thing and the beginning of another. Spring is falling from heaven in the rain and we are waking up with the sleepy damp earth.
Listen to the rain pounding on the glass. Like the beating of your heart, it means we are alive.
Behind the Clouds
On Thursday a winter storm rolled in. Winter weather is always disappointing this time of year when our hearts are set on spring. Apparently Mother Nature does not care if she’s a heartbreaker and was happy to shower us with snow and cold.
We couldn’t get our car up the hill we live on with all the snow on the road so we ended up abandoning it in a parking lot a mile from our house. Darren and I walked the rest of the way home at midnight with the snow still coming down. We were a sight with Darren wearing my fur-lined hood and each of us wearing one of his gloves. We were also carrying a box of ice cream because, snow or not, you don’t want to leave a perfectly good box of ice cream behind.
The next morning we grabbed a shovel and loaded backpacks up with rock salt hoping we would be able to get the car out of the snow. We bundled up and began marching back down the road to the car. We took about five steps before we started falling on our butts. Darren was walking along and fell flat on his bum. I try to be supportive so I laughed at him. He fell two or three more times and I started telling him he would have to walk alone if he was going to be so embarrassing and then I fell right flat on my bum too; that’s what you get for running your mouth and teasing. Every time one of us would get up the other would fall down and we slipped and slid the whole way down the road. It was very funny really, and there is nothing you can do but laugh at yourself in a moment like that.
We made it to the car and were happy to see it hadn’t been towed; we were very worried about that. But it was very, very buried in snow. Honestly, you could hardly even see it in the snow drift. Darren started shoveling it out and I started cleaning it off but the snow was coming down so hard that all my work was covered right back up. We got in the car dripping wet with melting snow and after a couple tries, we were back on the road.
When the wind and the snow are blowing in your face and the whole world seems buried beneath a veil of grey and white, you can’t imagine that the snow will ever melt or the sun will ever shine. But we woke the next day to a clear blue sky and mild spring temperatures.
It is just like Robert Frost said in his poem:
“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.”
From the poem Two Tramps in Mud Time
The warm temperatures quickly melted the snow off the roads and Darren and I actually went for another walk the next day—only this time it was for the pleasure of the warm air and sunshine and neither of us fell down. I kept looking at the cobalt sky and I was a little amazed that it had actually been there all along, only hidden behind the clouds and the snow. The blue sky never exactly went away; it was only veiled by the weather.
Life is like that too, I suppose. Life gets stormy and we fall down and it’s hard to imagine that the sun ever shone or will ever shine again. But it does. The clouds clear, we get back up, and the sun continues to shine. Even though we could not see it, the sun never stopped shining and the blue sky never failed. Our vision was veiled but nothing was ever really lost to the storms and clouds.
I’m trying to remember this, that the sky is always blue…right behind the clouds.
Setting Sun
“And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth, ‘You owe me.’
Look what happens with love like that. It lights up the sky.”
{Rumi}
Breathe in the Outside Air
I need to go outside. I need to breathe in the outside air, feel the sunshine on my skin, the wind on my face. I need to walk in the woods, feel the earth crunch beneath my feet. I need to sit by the ocean, toes buried in sand, salty sea on my lips. I need to climb a tree, feel the rough bark against my skin, see the world from above. I need to hear the birds sing, listen to the leaves rustle with the breeze. I need to smell earth wake up again in blossoms and blooms. I am alive when the earth is alive. I am awake when I’m outside.
Spring is coming, we are almost there. Winter will let go, earth will wake up again. We are almost there.
On Time Before Time
I sit here tonight all cozied up on the couch with a book and a mug of hot chocolate—the real stuff, not the store-bought packets. Cocoa powder, sugar, and milk warmed together on the stove top. Heavy whipping cream, powdered sugar and vanilla whipped together into a fluffy cloud of heaven melt into the hot chocolate and I think I might be complete now.
I ran out to the car for something and had to put my weight into pushing open the front door against the snow that has accumulated on the porch. The snow is already up to the tops of my boots and the wind is swirling around like a sort of snow hurricane. It’s exciting {so long as you’re safe and sound inside with a good book and a proper mug of hot chocolate, that is}.
I’m reading Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. She writes:
“I stomped out the door, back into the car, still in my pajamas, and as I opened the garage door again, I stopped in my tracks. In the park across the street, one of the tallest trees, twice as high as a two-story house, was the brightest, most insane, lit-from-within red I have ever seen. And it took my breath away, for two reasons.
First, because it was so beyond beautiful, and second, because I had not noticed one step of its turning. I had been in and out of my driveway a zillion times in the last two weeks and could not have told you if the tree was even still standing or not. As I stood there in the driveway, I realized that I had stopped seeing the most important things to see.”
Reading that I was struck by how God had that tree ready just when she needed to learn something from it. God didn’t zap the tree and turn it red at that moment, no, he slowly, carefully turned it red one week at a time until it was just right at just the right moment. That took some thinking ahead and I think it interesting all the work and preparation that goes into the moments that stop us and teach us something about life, or God, or beauty just when we are most in need of such a lesson.
And I wonder what God is preparing right now while I sit here in a snow storm sipping hot chocolate. I wonder what tree he is growing or what person he is teaching that will someday cross my path and guide me when I most need some guidance. I wonder what God is planning ahead before I have any concept of a need that will someday be met, seemingly, in the nick of time.
God is working, he is moving. He is growing trees and people and directing so many paths and patterns and working all things out and together to meet up in just the right place, at just the right time.
And I think that is beautiful.
Grow Towards the Son
I have a basil plant sitting in my kitchen window. He’s a survivor, that plant, for he’s lived here for months now and hasn’t been killed. Plants generally come to my home only to meet their maker. I don’t mean to kill them…I just forget to keep them alive.
But that basil, he fights on and on. When I first brought the basil home he was bushed out in all directions with his fragrant leaves going everywhere. After months in the window he’s grown bald on one side with all his leaves growing only on the other side—the side facing the window. His leaves face the glass, soaking up the sunshine (as much as can be had on a short winter’s day) and watching him stretch towards the light makes me think—he grows toward the sun.
He reaches for the light, the warmth, the food that foods his green little veins and watching him makes me wonder—shouldn’t I too be growing towards the Son? Toward the light, the warmth, the food that feeds my soul?
It’s a simple thought wrapped up in a hard lesson and I’m reminded to turn my back on what doesn’t feed my soul and turn my face towards the only light that does.
I’m reminded to grow towards the Son.
A Winter Wonderland
Eleven inches of snow fell flake by flake into our yard last night. We woke up this morning to a winter wonderland. We tried and tried to get out of the drive, but alas, we are stuck. Since we are snowed in and I have nothing better to do, I decided to treck out into the snow for some pictures.
“Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
From Desert Places By Robert Frost
{The bird house is wearing a snow cap}
{Today is the perfect day to put your feet up and watch the world go by}
{I’m going to sip some coffee and finish reading The Hobbit}
{Katniss thinks he should be sipping coffee too}
Are you snowed in too? :]
Outside Air 