Red at night

I stood on the front porch talking with a neighbor, when I happened to look up and murmured under my breath, "Red at night, sailors delight". I heard this from my Grandpa. Now every time I see something like this, that little poem rises to mind. And although far from the sea, it really does still hold true.

My World through the fog

I woke up to see my world shrouded in a think blanket of fog. Hours later the hush was still on the land; no dog barked, no birds called, what small sounds there were came faintly, clogged by the fog. I would not want to be lost in the woods on such a day.

To see other parts of the world, visit That's My World.

Festival of the Trees

Have you been over to visit the Halloween/Samhain/Day of the Dead edition of the Festival of the Trees ? Check it out. There is a lot of interesting reading and great photos of a spooking southern swamp.

Muir Woods

I tiptoed into the hushed fog-shrouded woods, peering up at the massive giants around me. The wooden walkway angled off in the distance. Alone with the trees, the faint twitter of birds high in the canopy and the trickle of the small creek that runs alongside the path; like my first visit to St. Peter's in Rome, I wanted to fall down and worship in the cathedral. I walked softly; breathing in the cool damp April air. I spotted movement along a fallen trunk, a liquid drop of sunshine with a tiny black beret flitted amidst the leaves. It was my first look at a Wilson's Warbler. I walked deeper into the woods marveling at the trees, reading the posted signs, tenderly touching the shaggy gnarled bark, Breathing in the piney smell. It was a day I will never forget.

I have been back to Muir Woods many times alone and with family and friends. I have been there in different seasons, but the first time was the most magical. It is not far over the Golden Gate bridge. Next time you are in San Francisco, take some time to drive up. it is so worth it.

Tree poem

All That Time
by May Stevenson


I saw two trees embracing.
One leaned on the other
as if to throw her down
But she was the upright one.
Since their twin youth, maybe she
had been pulling him toward her
all that time.

and finally almost uprooted him.
He was the thin, dry, insecure one,
the most wind-warped, you could see.
And where their tops tangled
it looked like he was crying
on her shoulder.
On the other hand, maybe he

had been trying to weaken her,
break her, or at least
make her bend
over backwards for him
just a little bit.
And all that time
she was standing up to him

the best she could.
She was the stubborn,
the straightest one, that's a fact.
But he had been willing
to change himself-
even if it was for the worse-
all that time.

At the top they looked like one
tree, where they were embracing.
It was plain they'd be
always together.

Too late now to part.
When the wind blew, you could hear
them rubbing on each other.

Taken from Good Poems for Hard Times by Garrison Keillor

Festival of the Trees #23

Mike at 10,000 Birds is hosting this month's Festival of the Trees. Pop over and read some of the fascinating posts he has collected. There is science, poetry, photos--something for everyone. I have already learned a few things.

Signs of Spring

After book group last Sunday, some friends and I went for a stroll at the Celery Farm in Allendale, NJ. It was cold and muddy but the signs of spring were everywhere.

Wordless Wednesday

Susurrant Trees

The trees whisper of spring’s approach
While small birds sit amidst the conversation
Cocking their heads this way and that.
Listening.
Listening
To the creak of old wood
And the faint stirring of new life
Drawn from icy spring rain
And softened soil.

The birds are impatiently interrupting
The tentative susurration of the trees
With twitters and joyous song
Singing.
Singing
With the sway of branches
In bracing winds.
For they too have heard it in the air
And seen it in the strengthening light.

But the trees pay them no heed
For they are tenderly exploring
Winter’s shearing with tentative pulses
Flexing.
Flexing
Winter’s frozen toes in warm patches of sunlight.
And contemplating swollen buds for yet another season
of light and leaf and dancing shadows.

Cruising the streets

One of my favorite things to do at this time of year is drive around the neighborhoods to look at the Christmas lights, although perhaps I should say displays. Lord knows they are bigger, bouncier and more animated than ever. After dinner with friends last week, we drove on snowy roads listening to Nat King Cole sing Yuletide carols. We crept along admiring and often laughing at what people had done to their homes.

Some houses had no decorations that we could see. Others were subdued with only a lighted tree in the window. Most of them though had some outside lights. There were the ubiquitous white lights everywhere from icicles to those shrub nets. One house had an enormous lighted palm tree. (We actually stopped and backed up to get a better view.) Many houses had articulated reindeer or angels. We paused to see if they would move or not---whooping in delight if the angel’s wings flapped or the reindeer munched the snow. The little girl in me still prefers the multi-colored lights. It is so much prettier in the black and white winter night.

I have to confess that I dislike the craze for inflatables. But my friend in Minnesota had a good point. They do look nice in the daytime when the holiday lights are not on. Most of the blow-up ornaments are holiday specific. The snow globes are even clever. I have seen one left over Halloween inflatable of Garfield and a random Scooby though. Odd. Why would you still inflate them?

My house? Well it has candles in the windows and the tree upstairs this year. The tree will come down after Epiphany but I will leave the candles in the windows until late January.

Want to be my neighbor?

“Timmmm Berrrrrrr!”

I always wanted to say that.

But it is generally more of a “Look Ouuuuuut!”

My family drove from the flat land to pick up some things from here than need to go there. (Remember the lawn mower?) While they were here, they helped me take down some trees-dead, skinny, too-close to the house, kinds of trees. I say they helped me, when all I did was point out the trees to go, try to stay out of the way, carry the logs to the woodpile and move branches. Dave even split the wood. We ended up taking down 10 trees and you cannot tell.

They left today for the 10-hour drive back to the flatland. As I tidied the house, I fell to thinking about what a tremendous help it was having them here. How I do not have very many people close by that I can rely on in a pinch. I do not know anyone that would come and spend the whole day taking down trees. It is hard dirty work. Having help is better than any kind of material gift. I am so thankful.

Being part of a community whether family, friends, congregation, or club is something that I think we are missing these days. I, for one, live far from friends and family. But many people speak of the lack of community, even the yearning for it. We are all working, commuting, stretched too thin. How did we lose our sense of community? How do we get it back?

I have tried to develop a community with the neighbors on the street. It is working on a small scale. It is not just about throwing dinner parties once in a while or borrowing an egg; but about helping each other out. It is about comfort, trust, and caring. But it also about asking for the help. This is something I am not good at. I am trying to get better.

Apple Pickin’ Time

“Excuse me, How do we tell which apples are which?”

The man glanced our way from the line of cars he was directing.

“Those are Empires and Red Delicious and over there are the Macs.” He waved his hand vaguely at rows of trees. When a car started to follow his pointing finger; he turned back with a wave of his red flag. We all nodded smilingly.

“Thanks.”

We stood indecisively with our empty red bag in hand.
“Did you get it?” we whispered to each other.

“I think the Macs are over there.” We walked across the field through the cars. There were people everywhere lugging bulging red net bags of apple back to their vehicles. We walked further into the rows to the trees that had not been stripped. There were mounds of apples all over the ground under the trees.

We started to pluck apples from the trees. For each one we pulled, as many fell off the tree. We picked up the ones that we caused to fall. No wonder there was so many on the ground.

We wandered from tree to tree and row to row tasting as we went. It soon became clear that we had no idea what we were picking. We argued about varieties, but I think we got Macs, Empires, some Red Delicious and a few Jonagolds.

The visitors from the city took the bushel of apples home. I am holding out for the Crispins, my favorites. They are almost ready for picking. I am such an apple snob.

Ducks in Trees

As I walked down the footpath at the Swamp I could hear other people talking. The voices grew louder as I crossed over the bridge. Standing in the path was a woman and a small boy. He looked to be about 6. He was telling his mother in a very excited voice that he had seen a duck in a tree. The mother was patiently trying to explain that ducks are in the water not in the trees. The little boy was adamant. He kept repeating in a loud voice that he “really, truly” saw a duck in a tree.

As I drew near them, the mother looked at me and shook her head. She smiled a tiny smile.

“Kids.” She said.

I leaned down to the boy. “Where did you see the duck?”

He pointed back down the path. I scanned the trees with my binoculars and sure enough he was right. Back in the trees, fairly high up, was a male Wood Duck.

I turned to the woman and said, “He’s right. There are ducks in trees. That one is a Wood Duck.”

“Here use these.” I let her and the boy use my binoculars.

She looked at me incredulously and followed my pointing finger. “I have never seen a duck in a tree before,” she said. She turned to her son and apologized for doubting him.

The little boy smiled a gigantic smile as they moved passed me on the path.

As they rounded the bend, I heard him say, “I told you there were ducks in the trees.”

Shopping

I have been using string bags for several years now. They come in colors and hold as much as, if not more than, the traditional paper bag. The key is to always have them in the car. Some grocery stores even give you 2 cents off for every bag you bring.
Saving the planet and cash back! Win-win.