Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

What a busy weekend-- I got a lot done. It felt both good and odd to basically just hang around all day yesterday. We all went to church, then home for a hearty brunch. Then just hung out-- Holly got a bit antsy, but she is four and sitting and reading for hours, or watching TV, or snoozing, are not on her dance card just yet. But we all had a pretty restful day. Amen.  Time and tide wait for no one, though, and we are launching into National Poetry Month. I wrapped up the pre-order sales for my book on Friday, and I should have the final sales sheet later today. Then, I'll get to signing and sending out the broadsides I had made as my thank you to those who bought books ahead of publication date. I truly do appreciate the support! And my dear friend Dawn Potter was named the next Poet Laureate of Maine! So much to celebrate-- good words and community win! And yet house work creeps back in. And I see so much yard work that will have to happen--but not yet. Flurries are in the forec...

Bunnies and eggs aside, we have much to contemplate and be grateful for in that we are, as a priest once reminded us a few years ago, Easter People. Through much darkness and tribulation, with patience and faith we wait. Jesus fulfills the Promise. We need to choose to believe that all things are possible and fulfill ours as well.  The nation --the world-- are shrouded in a confusion and darkness that troubles the soul, to be sure. But we are supposed to be the light. It is a big task, a huge undertaking, but if we are to find our way through these current troubled times, we must become "the light of the world." It is through our faith and good work that change will come.  Happy Easter, friends. Be safe. Let's light this thing up! C

Going to Adoration yesterday was really nice. I brought the Mary Oliver book, and in the time I was there in the half-light, I prayed some, and I read about 90 pages of poems that ask the reader to search out their relationship with nature, with their own inner self, and with a Creator greater than man can fathom. The poems are not preachy at all; instead, they focus the attention on the minute details of daily life. Birds, the clouds, all things in nature are the focus. If God is truly in all things, then why do we pass all things by looking for him?  The poems sometimes remind me of reading Tu Fu in translation, focusing on intimate little curious moments, and then letting us go. At other times, the poems really recollect Whitman in his expansiveness, the all-inclusive wide-ranging "I" of his poems. I enjoyed all of them. I did not bring a pencil to mark any, but there's one in particular I dog-eared, titled "At the River Clarion." I found a nice reading of th...

Good Friday. I have taken a personal day to sit quietly, to do a few things at home, but again, quietly. My whole body and mind are craving a quiet day.  I'll start out with Adoration at church for an hour.  I will do a few simple house chores.  And I hope to sit quietly and read for a while. Not the dystopian fiction I've been reading, but something more contemplative. I have Mary Oliver's collection of poems titled Devotions . I'll take it with me to church; the poems are all inspirational, prayerful, and contemplative.  And I will not doom-scroll on the internet. I will check in to make sure my students are floundering (but they shouldn't be), but mostly, I'll maintain the quiet until it is time to get Holly at school.  I wish for you a good day. Blessings and hope for us all, C

Holy Thursday. We should recall the act of service Jesus did for the disciples, and that he enjoined them --and us-- to do the same. Washing of feet is not just an act of cleanliness; it's humbling work, it's caring for others' comfort, it's a metaphor for how to live one's life.  Do I make the effort to help others through their daily challenges and tasks?  Do I seek out ways to use the gifts and talents that I have been give in service to the greater good?  Do I accept help when it is offered?  That last one is the hardest sometimes. Yet, to acknowledge that we need help, and to accept it humbly, is just what the disciples has to learn, too.  Things to think about. Have a good day, friends.  C

We did the eggs-- only one was cracked-- and they are lovely. Such bright colors! And right now, I could use a lot more color. The remainders of snow are dirty and gray-crusted, the mud is dingy, the tree branches are laden with shriveled up crabapples and small twigs. The grass, while starting to green up, is still choked with the long, dead strands of last year's end-of-season bits. In a word, dull. Very.  But the fat robin that lives in the lilac hedge (as near as I can tell, anyhow) is brilliantly red-breasted. And the gold finches are coming into their neon yellows. The red cardinal, along with his lady, have returned to the back yard; that flash of scarlet is welcome, too.  No sign of crocuses yet. Just wind-blown trash bits and other winter detritus. It's almost time to rake and prune and so on. But not yet. Still too wet, too cold, too-- early.  I hope you have a good day. No foolin'.  C