Whereing of the Green

So fellow travelers, its St. Patrick’s Day which here in the United States translates to

parades

The rescue’s float entry celebrates HHDR’s 10th anniversary

pints

And a plethora of green garb and deco everywhere but not in my garden.

After a brief 24 hour stop over, Spring appears to have moved on to greener pastures and Old Man Winter is gleefully reclaiming his turf.

Spring flies briefly by

Snowy Saint Patrick ponders

Whereing of the green

“Hey Mom ! Look! I found green!”

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Spring Ahead

So fellow travelers, Delilah and I just returned home from a quick walk.

It is a luxurious 58 ° , the air smells like spring and the sun managed to sneak in a brief but brilliant appearance before the incoming front from the west shrouded the golden light in deep grey storm clouds.

High over head, wave after wave of migrating geese called out as small lines merged again and again into ever larger formations. A distant chatter grew suddenly louder as a massive mixed flock of smaller birds filled the sky with hundreds of black specks. The sound was almost deafening but I stood absolutely still, mesmerized by the vibrant urgency of this annual push for survival. I have seen these migrating bird clouds before but always far above me on the trails. Today I was engulfed in the sight and sound of this tsunami of flight a few dozen feet overhead. Even Delilah seemed intrigued, sitting still on a patch of newly recovered grass by a not quite thawed snow pile. She looked at me, then up at the noisy intruders, scanning the trees where dozens of birds were landing for brief respites.

The wave seemed endless, although I am sure we stood and watched for only a few minutes before all but a few stragglers flew off towards the tree lined river nearby. Ears still ringing from the high pitched cacophony, I started walking towards home. As we picked our way around patches of snow along the edge of our yard, I heard bright and clear, for the first time this year, a familiar call.

Cackling V flies

Cloud of black specks darts and chirps

Robin sings at last

Yes, there in my neighbor’s chinaberry tree sat a robin calling out between pecking at dinner. Finally! The Vernal equinox does not occur until next week, but I will gratefully take this sign that spring is on it’s way.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

A Different Choice

So fellow travelers, a series of winter weather fronts has laid down layers of thick ice concealed beneath pristine, powder soft coatings of fresh snow.

Walking even a few steps has become a treacherous undertaking; I fell hard in my driveway getting out of the car a few days ago. Fortunately the fall resulted in nothing more than a bruised knee, sore wrist and a stiff back which was easily tweaked into place by our most excellent chiropractor. So now I use my Kahtoola NANOspikes even to walk the short path to refill my back yard bird feeders.  

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Frequent visitors to the backyard feeders

My recent newsletter from the Cornell Ornithology Lab informed me that chickadees can lose up to 10-15% of their body weight overnight trying to stay warm. Since their bright chirruping keeps my spirits up through our long cold winter season, I feel it’s the least I can do to keep these winter residents supplied with the fuel they need. The marauding squirrels are welcome too, as they provide our dog’s primary entertainment on days when it’s too blustery to walk.

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Now where did that squirrel go?

There have been too many of those this winter, at least that is how it feels but then I usually feel as if winter has dragged on long enough by the time Mid-February brings us the gift of a week off from school. “Winter Break”  is when I begin to wish Winter would give us a break. It rarely does. A quick search my blog history reveals post after post of February Blues entries.

Winter Break week does offer the blessing of getting to sleep in a bit, which has resulted in some truly bizarre pre-waking REM states.  This morning’s “ visions of surviving after a meteor strike” epic brought up this Haiku

Deep in winter sleep

Phantom demons rise and fall

Awake in the Dream

Lucid dreaming has not happened for me in quite awhile and this episode brought out some deep fears which I have been contemplating after morning meditation.The dream kept producing moments where I had to make split second decisions in the midst of absolute chaos. When I woke up I was struck by the parallel feelings I gathered from a recent blog post by my friend and accomplished writer, Jennifer Bowman in which she called for more tolerance of our darker emotions, particularly depression. The idea of allowing space for those times when depression is a natural result of the stuff life throws at us.

Jennifer also pushed back a bit at the concept that we can choose how we feel and called out the social media trend of memes which invoke “Choose Joy” as an admonishment, particularly of women, to take responsibility for their emotional states. Someone faced with the struggles of coping with a potentially fatal diagnosis,  the sudden loss of a loved one, a major career change or dramatic financial shift, these are not likely helped by such admonitions. Another friend, Tom Atkins, who writes often about the daily challenges of clinical depression speaks honestly of the void of positive thinking this state creates.

Perhaps it is less about choosing the emotion and more about choosing how we think about that emotion- a point made by both my friends. Whatever the feeling is, depression, rage, sorrow, bliss, wonder, it is not good or bad- it is at that given point in time quite simply what we are feeling. To layer judgement on top of the feeling obscures the potential within that emotion- if it is “good” we may begin to fear any change which might bring it to an end, if it is “bad” we may try to gloss over it or bury it deeper to avoid facing it.

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So then, instead of the pressure to choose “joy” or any other feeling we judge as “better,” what if we allow ourselves to “choose comfort,” to find what would ease our struggle enough to sit with the sadness, pain, anger or depression long enough to hear what it is trying to tell us. In truth, no matter what they are, our emotions are always telling us something about what it is we need. If we choose to listen, we have a chance to meet those needs and that chance can give us just enough hope to take the next step forward.

Walk gently on the path my frends and may adventure find you ready.

Christmas Snow

So fellow travelers, we woke this morning in a beautiful Chrismas Card world

Soft angel kisses

Falling gently from the sky

Blesséd Christmas snow

Gratitude always for the simple gift of Light and the presence of Love which surrounds us all. Be you gathered together or in simple solitude, be it for the day or a season, may blessings of peace rest upon your hearts.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

The Miracle of Light

So fellow travelers, it has been a busy weekend filled with the final rounds of preparations for Christmas.

Residents scurry about our Christmas Village

In a little while we will visit some dear friends to share a meal and relish the laughter of excited children. Tomorrow we will chat via video or phone with family we hold far closer in our hearts than the many miles which separate us.

Downstairs, our humble little tree glows with lights and treasured ornaments carefully set in place by Favorite Youngest Daughter and a friend. Wrapped presents are gathering by the nativity which patiently waits for its final figures as we conclude my created tradition of candle nights. Favorite Youngest Daughter is sitting wrapped in a blanket on the couch watching the classic “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Her journey home has not been easy and today brought some heartache but as I said when I hugged her tight “All that matters is you are here, where you are so loved.”

Seeking solace, for heaven knows a mother’s heart aches when her daughters are hurting, I took our dog for a walk . A gentle snow is falling, quietly blanketing everything is the soft silence only snow can make.

Back at home, I opened several cards which recently arrived in the mail. One immediately recognizable photo taken by my dear friend and poet, Kate, brought a wave of glorious memories which washed away the sadness clouding my spirits. Gratitude filled my heart.

Just above the clouds 

The sun is always rising

 Hope’s within our reach

Photo of Mt. Monadnock, NH by Kate Rantilla
The cell phone capture of this beautiful card barely does it justice.

In one instant I was brought back to the joys of friends chasing light and finding connections through hours of shared creative adventures. Sisters of the soul, she calls us and indeed just knowing my friends are there fills my soul with the promise of hope.

Walk gently on the path my friends; may this season bring you peace.

Morning Star

So fellow travelers, Venus has reclaimed her status as the “morning star.”

Venus at  06.35am 12.20.2018 

Ancient Greeks recognized certain heavenly bodies moved through the sky unlike the stars which had fixed positions. They named them planan which means “wanderer.”

Gazing up at bright Venus early this morning, my heart filled with gratitude, knowing my own young wanderer was sleeping safe and warm in her room upstairs.

Morning star shines bright

One who wanders rests at home

Mother’s heart is full

May your holiday season be blessed by the presence of loved ones.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Winter in Whiskey Hollow

So fellow travelers, the transition from Autumn to Winter has been grey, damp and chilly here in Central New York.

Slight differences in temperatures determine whether it’s raining or snowing . Thick mats of wet leaves create slick patches almost as treacherous as ice. The sun is obscured by dense clouds for days at a time; even the briefest of appearances is cause for celebration.

Quick look ! Do you see what we see?

Delilah and I spy the distant glow of sunshine far down the road we walk almost everyday in our neighborhood.

In the midst of gloom I received some heartening news; I’ve had to reset some hoped for plans lately, so I am going to hold this one close to my heart until it is more certain to unfold.

Meanwhile I opted for a mental health day, which initially included plans to finish Christmas shopping. This era of online purchases with direct recipient shipping is easier but lacks the personal touch which I try to bring to the gifts I give. There’s a simple joy in scouting craft shows and small shops to find the right something for each person on my list.

When the day dawned bright and clear I shifted gears to allow for a visit to a favorite birding spot.

Upon arriving , I remembered why it’s a not a frequent stop on my winter walking destinations. Early snow already covers the minimally maintained roadway; eventually it will become impassable until spring.

For now I was granted passage through and I drovecarefully along the winding road marveling at the transformation winter has made.

The little brook still babbles free and blissful it has not frozen over yet

Everything has become something new unto itself, familiar and yet not, a reflection of the path I am trying to navigate right now. I think I can see the way forward and yet, a sudden change leaves me on less certain footing.

Tracks in the snow leading to the little pond

Wrapped in the deep silence of these favorite woods blanketed in snow, lost in thought the bright chirping of a chickadee called me back.

High on a pine branch
One bird sits and sings alone
Joy cascades like snow

A simple, familiar reminder. Stop, look, listen.

What we seek is closer than we think.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

As the Crow Flies

So fellow travelers,  the other morning, while refilling the bird feeders in my yard, I heard crows calling back and forth from the tall pine trees in a neighbor’s yard. The raucous uproar was probably an alert that breakfast was being served. The sound immediately brought me back to the residential neighborhood where my family resided during the years they lived in Tokyo.

 

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I spent several months there after I graduated from college and the crows which lived through out the city were an iconic pervasive presence. I could not set foot outside the house without setting off a cacophony of ominous calls. Annoying as that was back then, this is now one of my favorite sounds.  It creates a cascade of memories, all of them rich with emotions.

Crows call suddenly

I ‘m transported back in time

Tokyo dreaming

 

 

I dream often of returning to the land where I was born, a place which has always felt like home but never actually been my home, at least not yet.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

 

 

Turkey soup

So fellow travelers, home again and a heavenly aroma fills my kitchen.

One downside to traveling rather than hosting for Thanksgiving is not having the base to make turkey soup, which stands out as my favorite Thanksgiving leftover.

No worries this year though, as my sister-in-law gave me a carcass, drumsticks and wings from one of the turkeys served at our big family feast.

As delicious smells rise from the simmering crockpot I remember the sacred moments of this year’s gatherings as well as those of decades past and words began to waft around my brain.

Turkey soup from bones

Memories infuse the broth

With family love

It’s a gift more precious than any Black Friday deal to be blessed by the love of family, near or far. Comfort and joy cooked into each spoonful of sacred soup.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Autumn Glow

So fellow travelers, a few days ago a vision of wind driven golden light caught my eye from an upstairs window.


I had taken a mental health day to reset my perspective and that day had brought sunshine and milder temperatures, rare gifts for November in upstate NY.

I’ve been working on tying up some loose ends left unattended while my energies were hijacked by situations my team at work had to deal with for so long. While that concern has been “resolved,” allowing work to become once again a fulfilling part of my day, I am still addressing the residual impact two years of continuous, escalating stress had on my health and marriage. My husband, good man and devoted father that he is, struggles with knowing how to support me when I am in a crisis. Wounds from his own past have left scars which bind his heart and emotions, something I do my best to be mindful of but easily lose sight of when I am in turmoil.

Blessed with several solid groups of friends both at and beyond work, I managed to get through the worst moments. Now I can see while we tried desperately to get help for someone slipping into darkness just how hard I had to fight to keep from being pulled over that edge too. Love for my family guarded my heart and friends became my lifeline. So when a misunderstanding threatened to fracture some of those friendships, it sent a shock wave through my current peace of mind. It’s disheartening when genuine apologies generate more hurt than healing.

Taking a day for reflection and self care meant I could chase that glorious vision outside my window. I grabbed a daypack and headed for a favorite trail to track the elusive light of changing seasons.


Bright leaves, so late to put in an apperance this year flew everywhere, urged on by an unseasonably warmish wind. County Parks workers were hard at work getting the annual Holiday Lights on the Lake displays in place for the season.

Santa’s flying sleigh is a favorite, sure to elicit “oh’s” and “ah’s” when driving through .


Park residents  reserving their spot for the kick off event early next week

 

As Delilah stalked fat squirrels who were too focused on foraging to mind the many dogs passing by, I caught tantilizing glimpses of Light everywhere.

 

 

Perched on a picnic table, watching sunlight dance on the water, I remembered an important lesson: Reactions of others are more about them than us. When we ask ourselves “What is this person’s response telling me about their inner landscape?” it often clarifies and helps us separate our personal issues from others. Taking responsibility for our part of a misunderstanding and acknowleding another person’s feelings does not obligate us to take on someone’s hurt, anger or sadness. If we offer peace it will return to us all in good time.

 

Feelings come and go

like leaves blown about by wind

only love remains

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.