Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Time to Plant


Your Seed Pouch

Hang from the night sky 
So that your eye might draw 
One more image of love upon your silk canvas 
Before sleep. 

Words from Him have reached you 
And tilled a golden field inside. 

When all your desires are distilled 
You will cast just two votes: 

To love more, 
And be happy. 

Take the sounds from the mouth-flute of Hafiz 
And mix them into your seed pouch. 

And when the Moon says, 
“It is time to 

Why not dance, 
Dance and 

~ Hafiz

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Teapot Totems

Recently there was an outdoor art show nearby, called Cracked Pots.
Side note: my live in gardener was the one that suggested the name to them.
All the vendors use recycled materials.
A lot of the art is garden art and I particularly took note
and enjoyed Teapot Totems.
They were so happy and colorful,
they just made my heart sing.
Click on the picture to make larger and see the details.
Isn't it fun to discover something you haven't seen before that just makes you happy?
What have you found recently that makes you happy?

Monday, July 29, 2013

Monday's Quotes

It is not the multitude’s idea of a special tea.
Some do not know, nor
Could they possibly conceive of
How joyful it is to sit and revel
In the small masterpieces
Of the daily mail, solitude and tea.

Susan Patterson
of Earlene Grey

You can find more poetry and the rest of the poem at The Causerie.
Flowers picked very early Sunday morning as the sun was coming up.
I delighted in the early morning hour in my garden.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Damaged and Imperfect

Beautiful in it's own way.
Damaged and imperfect.

Have a good weekend, dear friends.
This is yard sale weekend in
my neighborhood, so I will be in the yard.
Hoping for time to smell the flowers.
May we all have time to smell the flowers.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Bounty of the Season

I just love this time of year with all the beautiful fresh fruit in the market and in the garden.
Oregon has wonderful berries, so a'pickin I have gone.
Blueberries and Marionberries are the treats of the day.
In the garden there are beets, squash, cucumbers, and the beginning of tomatoes.
What local produce do you find in your part of the world?
What are you enjoying?

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Swain Woods - Part 3

Violet told me about her sister, Rose and Daisy, and how much they cared for each other, for their parents had disappeared one day leaving them to care for themselves.  There was a whole community there to encircle them with love, to care for them and teach them the lessons of life.  They sheltered them from evil, from being scared in the dark.  They would stand over them as they slept and wrap them in soft leaves.  Bunnies would warm them on a cold winter night.  In the morning the dew would fill their acorn cups and a salad of newly unfurled ferns and freshly ripened strawberries would provide their morning brunch.

Soon it was time to dance.  As I ventured there more often, I asked about the darkness.  What was it there to fear for I only saw the light of day and it delighted my soul.  They told me of the evil one that sometimes came with the cloak of darkness.  When the moon was but a sliver, the darkness would appear.  Silently into the crevices of the woods it would permeate the night.  The stars would squeeze all the brightness they could shine to help the darkness disappear.

As long as the tiny sweet flower fairies kept their eyes on the stars and were sheltered in the nests, their hearts felt confident that tomorrow they would dance again.  You could hear a soft hum, a very sweet sound coming from the woods on those star lit nights.  It was a hum of happiness.  I knew if I also kept my eyes on the light of the stars, I would be safe from the cloak of darkness, the evil one would disappear.  I would wake to dance and sing another day.

Today there are houses built in Swain Woods.  I wonder if they ever find a fairy wing or hear the music there.

I hope you have enjoyed my little story.
It was fun for me to write these words and dream a bit.
Let us all keep dancing and singing.


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Swain Woods - Part 2


As I ventured there more often I began to hear their song and there thanksgiving for the nests I left for them.  They sang songs of JOY, they laughed with a thrill that came from deep inside of them.  Their footsteps softly threaded there, but still the light step would sometimes make a twig snap or a flower sway.  Fairies were there, oh yes they were.  And we began to dance on that spongy ground and twirl in the quiver of the soft streams of light shining through the branches of the tall trees.  And my heart was happy.

On one day in the distant past I met Violet, at least that was the name I called her as she wore a skirt of purple, shaped with tiny petals.  She was more beautiful than anyone I had ever seen.  Her long chestnut hair flowed around her shoulders and she wore a crown of flowers across her forehead and circling her head.  A stream of light would shine through the branches and she would dance.  Sometimes she tiptoed oh so softly carrying with her cups made from acorn cups filled with the sweet nectar made from the violets and pine needles, a tea I will always remember, an elixir I am sure.  We would tuck into a cave under the fallen trees and sip as we shared stories of another day, another world just out of sight.  Her stories were a delight, full of intrigue, romance, and laughter.

Part 3 coming soon.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Monday's Quotes


If a child is to keep alive his inborn sense of wonder, he needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering with him the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in.

One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, "What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?"

The more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us, the less taste we shall have for destruction.
~Rachel Carson

Friday, July 19, 2013

Swain Woods - Part 1


This story comes from the truth and fantasy of a young girl.  This happened to me as written, but with deviations into the dreams of that girl long ago.

Swain Woods was at the top of the hill, at the end of the road.  The road closed onto a narrow horse trail in the meadow full of tall grass and wildflowers.  It meandered near a house closed and gated with mystery.  As a young girl of 5 or 6 I could explore nearby, but not yet brave enough to follow the trail into the woods.
The woods had tall trees and I could see a darkness there.  Oh my heart desired to enter and explore, but yet something held me back.  Was it the darkness, the unknown?  Was it a sign of a time when I would walk into the darkness alone?

As I grew a little older and moved to the other side of the woods, I became a braver girl.  I also was a day-dreamer girl and dreamt of a day I would be brave enough to enter the woods, the darkness.  Yes, I would enter there one day alone to dream.  They would be the dreams of a girl of 8 or 9.  It was a place I knew I could venture alone, as my sister was not allowed to walk near the poison ivy there.  Poison ivy didn't cause the problems for me that it did for her.  So in my secret little joy I entered Swain Woods.  I followed the trail made by the horses.  I became an explorer that day.

Entering the woods the sun was often hidden behind the tall trees.  There was a damp coolness, a spongy cushion to the ground. The sounds of birds not usually heard enchanted my young ears and heart.  The hoot of the owl and the tapping of the woodpecker serenaded.  The fallen trees across the trail would create both bridges and tunnels, places to hide, and places to dream.

Occasionally a wild trillium or miniature iris was noticed growing in amongst the ferns.  I would collect moss, loose pieces of bark, twigs, and ferns to create nests for the creatures there.  What creatures, I wasn't sure; but I knew there was something present.  They were just out of sight, but I could feel them surrounding me in their song and their dance.

Note:  Since this is a long story, I have broken it into three parts.  I hope you enjoy my truth and fantasy of myself as a young girl.