Peace On Our Little Piece of Earth

Over at (Lefthanded Trees), Delia (my new from Bloglandia friend) wrote a piece about autumn and the energized feeling she gets as summer gives way to Fall. The moment I read this, I realized that I too felt more energized with the approach of Fall.

I love the passing of the hot times to the cooler.
I love the rise again of a light breeze against my skin.
I love the cooler early morning air as it fills my lungs,
sometimes touched with the smoky tang of
an early morning fireplace.

I love the unpredictable weather. The forecast may say rain in the northern valley, but, where you are in the northern valley more often than not controls the amount of rain we actually get.

I love rain and I am always hopeful that the storm coming in from the coast will actually make it through the delta and move south to my part of the northern valley. Rain comes up from the south and down from the north with geography playing a big role in whether or not we get much rain. We often seem to be on the outer edge of whatever front is passing our way. Of course, this doesn't mean we don't get a lot of rain. We have had some memorable seasons.

I'll never forget a January a few years ago. It rained non-stop for 30 days. Eleven more and we would have broken the Biblical record. It got pretty soggy that month and even for a rain person like myself, it got to be a bit much.

We lost a lot of trees around campus that month. When I say trees, I'm speaking of mature cedars, pines, and redwoods. That was the January I was in my office and jumped out of my skin as an almighty CRACK!! exploded through the building. I ran out the back door to find five trees down. One went and then took four more with it on its way down.

We were very lucky that day. Classes were already in session for that hour so there were no students on an otherwise busy walkway. A little earlier or a bit later and it could have been a very different story. It took a week to clear the debris.

But, where way I? Oh yes, Fall and feeling energized. Come Fall, I feel like taking walks, sitting on my front porch, delving back into long-term projects. I even feel a bit of interest in cooking and baking. God knows, I have no great culinary gifts but once in a while I feel the big push to follow a recipe, to face off with myself on a creative food challenge, so to speak. I'm sure it has something to do with holidays, birthdays, and all the visual stimulation of the season.

Yesterday was busy for a while. I had to tackle the garage. I'm a hoarder and DH's special escape place was overrun with my stuff. This wasn't so bad when he was working but now he is retired and he wants his shop back. I am forced to at last sort, store and toss. This will bring peace to our little piece of earth and we both get what we both most need - he gets his space back and I get more decluttered and get the remainder out of sight. Along the way I found old comic books that I discovered I had no attachment to anymore. eBay may bring me a windfall. I'll keep my fingers crossed about that.

Clearing out this stuff was good on so many levels.

1. Don's shop is now his space again;
2. A cabinet has been emptied (and refilled);
3. I have less stuff;
4. I have room now to box up loose stuff;
5. And best of all - I have the rest of Fall to concentrate on studying T. S. Elliot, Samuel Coleridge and poetic forms.
6. I don't feel so defeated by the work still ahead of me - yes, DH, I acknowledge that there is more work to be done;
7. I may get more painting accomplished in the kitchen, and;
8. The on-going photo project will get started up again.

Fall is like a season of rebirth for me. Of course that is no doubt directly related to my birthday being in mid-November. Fall is the only time of the year when I like the color orange in all of its varied hues, not just apricot or melon.

I like Fall/Winter gardens. They require so little work, not that I do lots of heavy gardening to begin with. But, in Fall/Winter I don't feel any guilt about neglecting the garden. The garden goes to sleep just as I am waking up from an energy-sapping summer. And this wake-up call is a siren call for me to go to winter beaches - cold, quiet, uninhabited. But that is another story.

Something Sweet

Something sweet happened today; something sweet and life affirming.

Today was a first for me in all of my 18 years of working here in the Music Department. Every week, the students meet for a once-a-week recital hour meeting. On a pre-scheduled date, students perform once per semester before the faculty and the other music students. Today was no different except for one very special thing - there was a proposal.

Cameron S. (percussion) finished his piece. He asked everyone to wait just an extra couple of minutes and then he left the stage. He walked up to her girlfriend of two years, Elicia M. (flute), went down on bended knee and offer up an engagement ring. The recital hall exploded into hoots, whistles, stomping, cheering, and tears. Elicia said YES. There was much happiness all around. I, who did not cry at my own son's wedding, even teared up a little bit. Many blessings, Cameron and Elicia.

Bloglandia Ball - September Full Moon

Today...this Full September moon, is the Bloglandia Ball...hosted by Elizabeth Bunsen, of Be...Dream...Play... After much thinking, a push from Lady Lea, and a bit of inspiration over coffee and knitting needles, . . .

I decided to
play
whirl
spin
and dance.

I decided to
lay in a bed of flowers
wear my pretty red shoes
visit and share secrets with girlfriends
and let Summer chase me into Fall.

I decided to

try something new
sip nettle tea
nibble herbal cookies laced with
lavender, lemon, and mint.

I decided to

laugh at the party
laugh most hearty
no sitting in corners for me.

I decided to

howl at the moon
fall into a swoon
and then wake again
to a now waning moon.

Something a Little Different for Me

I picked up my knitting needles recently as a change of pace from all the crocheting I've been doing. The purse I planned to make here evolved into a wallhanging instead. Every once in a while, it's fun to do something different, to shake it up, so to speak.

FRONT DOORS

I took a walk through your neightborhood today
and discovered that we had something in common.
We both live on quiet streets, mine public, yours private.
Similarities ended there.


My front door opens to the world welcoming friends and family in.
I strolled by houses on your street and could not see a front door,
so well-hidden were they.

Casual landscape of brilliant flowers, shading trees, and cobbled walk
set out a welcome mat that lead to our front door.
The intricate and formal arrangement of trees and shrubs formed
impenetrable walls that kept your front doors out of sight.

Basketball hoops and tetherball poles sit in the church parking lot -
unused throughout the week, explode with activity on weekends -
a moving picture across from my ordinary home.
I stopped for a moment staring in the direction of where
I can glimpse the roof of what must be an imposing building.
Is that a stand of tall fieldlights I see?
Do they illuminate a private court?
What games are played there?

Basketball?
Tetherball?
Tennis anyone?

I am a visible invitation to take a moment to rest
on my front porch, to any who pass by.
But looking at the entrance of the road that leads
to the roof of the hidden house,
I wonder how long that driveway is;
and is there a gatekeeper, a final wall to penetrate,
near the front door?

I have church bells, a school, a parking lot;
all signs of life in motion.
I see none of that near your front door.

But we do share that one thing in common - the quiet.
My quiet is the gentle buzz of life.
Your quiet is the quiet of protective walls.

Perhaps we both have what each of us needs most of all,
after all.

I am not compelled . . .

I realized something today. I have not posted since Monday and I have not fretted about it one little bit. There has been a small voice inside my head, for a long time, driving me to write and post for the sake of posting. It didn't matter if I had anything to say or not, just write. I suppose this could be considered a good thing, but not in this case. It felt compulsive, unsatisfying, and I had let other creative activities suffer while I fretted about not writing.


Then I started the poetry workshop. Finally and at last I had made a choice to do something to push myself forward in my creative development; something that was formal and structured, not just me, on my own, working independently. Somewhere along the way I've discovered the value of going to the mountain and kneeling at the feet of a master. I had no idea that the formal structure of a class would not only improve my skills but it would relax me and release me from feeling uncertain about my own skills.

It has been sneaking up on me that I need to acknowledge my gifts and not hold any false modesty; not be embarrassed by compliments. Self-confidence is a vital ingredient for creative growth and maturity and I've stymied myself for too long, not believing in myself.

So, here I am, five days later, posting again and feeling good about it, not compelled. And the week has been a good one. I've been working on poetry exercises and I picked up my knitting needles. I had no idea what I was making when I started out but eventually I found myself making a wall hanging. It's not finished yet but stay tuned.

THE GIFT OF FAITHFULNESS

I love the taste of your skin – warm, a bit salty and always the sweetness of pulled taffy.
I smell the warm taffy and I want to take a cooking class with you.
A candied dessert would be perfect.

I love the way your hair curls at the nape of your neck
drawing me to the smell that I love of you fresh from a shower
before you splash yourself with aftershave.

The world doesn’t exist when we tuck into the corners
of our sofa - talking, sharing silences,
lingering over our coffee and tea.

I love it when you surprise me with a tender, unexpected touch;
your voice whispering like some 19C woodsman -
slow, thoughtful, slightly nasal;
your eyes the memory of some ancestral Welchman come to life.

I curl into you,
folding my hand into yours and I go to sleep
lulled by the sound of your breath.

You make me feel safe;
I finally believe that you will never disappoint me,
never betray me.