Haiku Horizons, Clear

 

Clear, sun-speckled sky

Angels fluttering like song

Wrapping me with love.

 

* forgive the lack of an image but nobody at Zemanta or any images will help me and I have been trying for a week. Thank you for understanding.

 

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Love, Like Birds

Cardinal

Cardinal (Photo credit: BlueRidgeKitties)

When I heard the cardinal sing its pretty song, for the first time in a very long time, I stopped dead in my tracks to listen. I was in a crowded parking lot but yes, I was being careful. What sound could be more important and more beautiful than that of a cardinal singing its sweet song after a relentless winter.(With no assurance that it is really over)

I happen to have a crush on cardinals more than other birds, I must admit.They have a special family memory for me. The handsome vibrant red male, his “wife” the beautiful, red-gray dancer singing from one to the other, always together like a comforting, well-balanced, special relationship. They look out for one another, they feed each other, they always communicate in song, first one than the other.

I know, we all know, it’s been too long a winter, we can’t change it but the sounds of cardinals and the perfect blue sky, the weather in the upper 40’s makes it seem like we are on vacation, somewhere South. It doesn’t take much to make us happy now.

I wouldn’t say the trees are budding but they  also aren’t as buck naked as they used to look. They have the promise of blooming, of bringing life on a day like today. It was the beauty of the unexpected, the thing that happens that surprises you, not the droning ritual of a nasal forecaster.

The window of my car was open to let the breeze in, my radio turned up loud, of course the songs were just what I wanted to hear. Today was special, yesterday was freezing, I’m grateful for this moment in time. Spring isn’t here yet but I can see that it really will happen, someday soon.

Enhanced by ZemantaPhoto Credit: BlueRidgeKitties from Wikipedia

Plinky Prompt: For many of us, winter is blooming into spring, or fall hardening into winter. Pick.

157 Flowers in the Sky

157 Flowers in the Sky (Photo credit: Andreas.)

  • For many of us, winter is blooming into spring, or fall hardening into winter. Which season do you most look forward to? See all answers
  • Which season? Seriously?
  • You’re kidding right? As if there was a choice, at least for me….Anyone who knows me is probably laughing now. Fall hardening into winter? Not a chance in the world. Ever. I hate the winter, hate to be cold, hate the length of winter, the slippery snow and ice. Nothing appeals to me about long winters, I’ve been begging to move to a warmer climate but we can’t do that just yet.
    I know people say that because we have these long winters we appreciate spring more but I have to say I don’t think there is anyone else that appreciates spring more than me. The beauty of a sun drenched sky, sun warming my shoulders, daffodils popping up, pink flowers lighting up the blue sky, the first crocus; I am grateful for every one of them. The cardinals come home, chirping their happy song, flying, their red coats, like a flash of reward and hope.

Gray Skies, Blue Ahead

English: Yosemite Meadows – Half Dome in...

English: Yosemite Meadows – Half Dome in Yosemite National Park, California, USA. Français : Le Half Dome vu de Yosemite Meadows, les prairies humides qui couvrent le fond de la Vallée de Yosemite, dans le Parc national du même nom, en Californie (États-Unis). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I miss the lemon color of sunshine, the way it warms my shoulders or how it feels when I lift my face upwards. Blue skies too, I long to see them and not look at gloomy gray skies. I would consider it to be a gift to see the sky a robin egg’s blue without a single cloud. How can you feel incredibly happy when you look up at the sky and see bare, brittle branches leaning against a milky, dull sky. It’s not white because that could give one hope, but a color between white and gray; I’m looking at it right now. I’ve been looking at it every single day for three months.

I have no plans for today, I could have scheduled some but I didn’t want to have any, it’s one of those days when I wanted to do what I had to do in “me” time. For me, that’s slow. Perhaps, slower than most. I still need to shower and do all of my laundry and I haven’t started anything yet. The only thing I have managed is to sip my blessed cup of strong morning coffee in my bright flowered mug and toss a ring to my dog a few times. Now, her curled up against me on the bed is not a great motivator. I need to get up.

I have told myself to get up for the last hour. I cannot even blame my illnesses for this. This is just laziness and comfort and a question mark. Why do I have to get up? There’s really no good reason that I can figure out, but yes, it’s self-indulgent. What’s the matter with self-indulgence now and then? I’m not watching television or eating bon- bons, no one is here to give me a manicure or pedicure. I’m here, alone with my silence, thinking. My sister always has to be moving, doing, acting, she can’t stay still, I am the total opposite. I can sit and dream and read, be still and think. It doesn’t bother me; I hope I stay this way. It comes in handy. I don’t “have to get out of the house” like my mother who seeks entertainment as much as possible.

My husband and I had tentatively planned a vacation, not one that we are really interested in so we won’t pursue it. I decide I need to be closer to nature, something I have stayed away from for many years but I know the time is right He is absolutely thrilled but thinks I’m kidding. I’m not. I have felt the pull for months now, two of my friends, Ash and Michelle have inspired me  I don’t want to camp out (let’s not be crazy) although that is a funny thought, but I want to be surrounded by trees and waterfalls and the smell of the good, clean earth. I want to go someplace (I’d prefer to drive than fly but that’s unlikely) where all I need to think about are the different types of birds, how many shades of green there really are and the taste of exceptionally clean water. I want to see wildflowers and butterflies and rocks.

Waterfalls, mountains, slow hiking, the sun warming me like a light blanket, taking deep breaths that fill my chest like eating honey slowly. I want to see the stars at night, it is startling to say I have never seen a shooting star; it’s always been one of my goals. It is something new to try, something new to love, that is what I am ready for, that is what will happily get me out of bed.

Yosemite Wildflowers

Yosemite Wildflowers (Photo credit: Selected Pixels)

I’m Older Than That Now

Portrait from India 15

Portrait from India 15 (Photo credit: Zuhair Ahmad)

A new, younger friend, was hesitant to write her feelings down on paper.

Why not? I thought.

And then I remembered and rejoiced in that knowledge.

I’m too old for games, I wrote,
but I can understand why you would be hesitant.
I was like that too, at your age.
I now have the freedom not to care what others think.
Freedom not to even think about what others think, not to hesitate, just say what’s on my mind, politely.
What a luxury, a new luxury  that I had taken for granted. A gift. A heavenly gift.
I never realized it before until the younger one said “I thought about it but I didn’t say anything”
I had forgotten that hesitancy until I was reminded of it.
It’s like inhaling a deep breath, holding it in and effortlessly letting it go,
letting it seep into all the crevices of life, be it ocean or wind, or water.
Drifting aimlessly like a freed red kite among the unencumbered blue sky.
I have earned this.
This is my gift to myself.
I will pride myself on not dyeing my hair, for the few strands that are gray and white,
I will wear them with authenticity.
I will continue to throw back my head with my hair long and laugh.
There really is wisdom, joy and freedom in older age.
Even, especially if you don’t seek it;
it will find you.
Keep your heart open to receiving that gift.

My Idea of Perfect Weather

Is this a flickr cliché?

Image by hufse via Flickr

Sun, Sugar And My Soul

Perfect weather: a bright blue sky with shiny puffs of cotton-candy shaped clouds, the sun warming my hair and no rain in sight. It’s a day where I sit outside in an old green lawn chair and watch the red cardinals and finches and funny birds with yellow mohawk haircuts visiting and eating from the bird feeder. I don’t chase the squirrels away, they eat the sprinkled food I leave on the ground for them. I laugh as they play and chase each other around always looking glassy-eyed and shocked. I love to see the bright yellow dandelions popping up amongst the green grass. I stare at the brightness of the yellow flower and the puffy, soft bristles that we blew in the wind when we were innocent children, making wishes, believing they would come true.

I would have a picnic outside with family and friends because we all know that everything tastes so much better if you eat it outdoors. Sandwiches on rye bread, thick with cheese and ham or cucumbers, tomatoes and mozzarella cheese on French bread with a drizzle of light green olive oil and a sprinkling of black pepper and pungent oregano. Art in a sandwich. We would drink home-made lemonade, sweet with sugar and the juice of many yellow, spongy lemons. There would be a variety of sugar cookies, spicy ginger snaps, chocolate chip brownies and my famous banana bread moist, rich with plump raisins and a dusting of brown sugar. Sunshine, sugar, sweetness, the essence of my soul; while these magical days don’t come often, we appreciate them more when they do appear, like a gift from the sky.

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Find Me A Crocus

Winter is alone. Spring is for friends. Summer is for families.  Fall is for children. I need that tiny glimmer of hope when I look outside at 5 PM and see a bit of the sun still whispering down at me from the sky.  Is the gloomy darkness giving us a chance to take a gulp of winter air and not get lost and turned around in the frost?  How much longer can I see my breath outside as the car shudders and shakes itself to start? Is there a chance, a hope, a tremor, a twinge that Spring may actually be coming in the next few months?

I can minimally handle these cold and frigid days when the sun is out and the sky is a mellow blue. It’s when the limbs of strong, sturdy trees fight, swaying against the gray, dark clouds that I become a hermit and don’t want to leave my cozy house. That’s when I stay inside, if I can, and sip Eggnog Tea and pat my dog on her sweet head so that she closes her eyes and sighs a gracious thank-you.

Stronger and stronger I am feeling the connection between mood and weather, temperature to temperament. I don’t think it’s a fast science but a personal assessment. Some people like the sun; I need the sun. I crave it with my body that is still dry and rough from the long winter. Red, raw hands fighting inside the mittens that promise warmth and comfort but deliver neither.

How can one NOT feel better when you see the spry young spots of purple and yellow crocus’ emerging from the strong, solid earth? The first blush of downy yellow from the forsythia tree in the backyard. The texture of pussy willows as I stroke my thumb against them back and forth like a calming mantra.

Let this bitter cold winter end. The soft billowy snow that once was fresh is now a dull gray mixed with mud.  We have been through this for many years as we  mutter “I hate the winter” to anyone who passes by. Or we say it out loud to ourselves,  over and over again.

We all need a break from the earth, from the world and from ourselves. We need to shine, to stretch like a cat after a long nap, to take long deep breaths that smell like daffodils or mowed lawns, or red wine. Let the spring come to us like a long-awaited for present, no expectation on when it will arrive but always deeply grateful when it does.

Walnuts with the scent of jasmine

1/06/10

She took a sip of coffee from the Starbucks cup she was holding in her left hand. Her red, raw hands embraced the hot coffee cup tightly,  even with it’s spelled out admonition that the “beverage may be hot.”  In her right hand she held another cup of coffee for a  friend, a friend  and by mistake she took a sip out of that one too, leaving a dull lipstick stain which she hurriedly wiped away.  Girl crush energy.

The air was filled with the scent of walnuts and jasmine and the snow was fresh, virgin white; the sky overhead looked like a a mass of robin’s eggs stitched together, an intense baby blue. There was something about having a crush that just meant the difference between having a good day and having a boring day. There was no sex involved, no THINKING about sex involved. It’s just what girls/women do sometimes; they have girl crushes.

I have come to understand that boys/men do not really understand this concept at all because they hear crush and think sex. Girl  crushes are NOT like that at all.  Maybe your girl crush as an amazing new handbag, or a lipstick the color of plum and rose; or maybe it’s just a brand new friend!  Or the potential for another new friend! New friends are like Christmas presents in July. Rare and unexpected. Crushes in all forms happen all the time and it is NOT a dirty thing. Crushes are not dangerous and they don’t mean affairs or sex.  They are meant for fun or flirtation or both.

I wish men could understand that. Most women do. Of course, there are the uptight kind of women that when you say you have a girl crush they think you are a lesbian. You are not. Tell the uptight people who feel this way to just  grow up. Crushes are not dangerous and they don’t mean affairs.  importantly they do not involve sex. Of course there will be people arguing saying emotional affairs are worse than sexual affairs but that is not at all what we are talking about here.

It’s a fantasy of friendship just like anything else. So, have your girl crush or boy crush or any crush at all. Just have a new crush. Any type of new crush because anything that can get you to smile a little sweeter is a good thing and besides, the winter is really dreary and long, dreary and long…….