Cee’s FOTD Photo Challenge
What delight Spring brings on the heels of a never-ending bleakness buried in snow.
Before the grass grows tall, the shoots of violets, bluets, and trout lily dance atop the forest floor. Before the grand tree canopies, the floral bouquet is gathered to adore.
After we succumb to woodland fragrance, the bumble and honey bee dance to wax and wane their appetite. After the world awakes, we rest in slumber for time’s sake.
To remember the wildflower dotting the woodlands come September will prove beauty’s allure!
Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors
What news!! We are making an offer on a house today. And it is absolutely, mind-blowing gorgeous. This rock wall, which Massachusetts is infamously famous, is even more magnificent then this picture depicts. In fact, my heart barely blips on the screen when i look at this photo.
The rock is 20 feet tall and looks west towards Mount Wachusett. There is a perfect view perched atop this mighty fortress. A quick stroll down the road and this…
I have no regrets in life. Not even when the outcome was less than favorable for me. I am better for the experience. The stretching. The climbing. Mostly the listening, even hearing the quiet. Witnessing the fear. The hiding.
The challenge for me was to share intimately with another, and i did so.
Connection to another, whether spiritual, intellectual or physical, gives and takes. When we take, we fill an empty place that was left ravaged by circumstance. When we give, we pour from the soul.
So i do not regret giving to another who needed something, more than i needed. The act of giving itself fills up. The thanks and smiles are more than enough for a girl who has learned to never regret the road.
And perhaps, since i am working on my patience, this is a test of true friendship. I will never purposely jump ship. Even when the tests are excruciating and i wish, pray, for death, I will remain as long as people decide i am worthy of them. To witness I AM a heartfelt existence and friend. 🤗 And if i end up pushing you aside, it is my fear, not your lack of love.
Is there a home in the world for us?
We have our own snow in the Midwest.
Still, it is magical to stare wonderingly at the pristine beauty of a country, In the Middle of Snow, who relatives, generations before you, once called home.
That family once honored the past with stories of Finland. The great-grandparents who entered the US, through Ellis Island, settling in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, being comfortable with the familiarity of their homeland in a foreign country, told those memories. Settling, they built a family, in a village of Finlanders, joining the ranks of those who worked the iron ore mines, who supped on pasties and ran together, in unencumbered flesh, through the snow, to warm themselves in saunas. Together.
Today alone. Scattered snowflakes.
I always welcome to know more about my heritage, hence my search for Finnish blogs. I need connection. This circle of life i yearn for, feeds the purpose of answering who i am.
But who can answer the why questions? Why leave home, slowly abandon your language and culture, to come to a wild land that is not necessarily more welcoming. The answers remain as vague as the memories. I am destined to melt, never fully knowing. Remain fluid, never answering the question but providing a journey for my children.
Generations past, echoes that grow ever faint.
Yes, these friends are finally being packed away. Today. Suffocating, perhaps. I like to think i am giving them a break. And me too. Its been a few years since I read them, but before I stack them, lovingly put aside, i extract a few thoughts to pass your way…
I never promised you a rose garden. But dear, my promise garden flourishes. Even, dead of winter, a bleak despair, seeds believe in miracles.
“Beauty has no obvious use; nor is there any clear cultural necessity for it. Yet civilization could not do without it.”
“My love is something valuable to me which I ought not to throw away without reflection.”
Freud Civilization and Its Discontents
“we are all murderers and prostitutes – no matter to what culture, society, class, nation one belongs, no matter how normal, moral, or mature, one takes oneself to be.”
“Whether life is worth living depends on whether there is love in life.”
r. d. laing
Like old friends, we will meet again. In a new town, the words will take on new meanings.
I actually wrote this a week ago. Its like a memory. I suppose it is memory. Feels a dream I want to wake up from. But the possibility of living in Boston is intriguing. Closer to my love of Monhegan Island and Maine. I can hear the loons call and follow the moose tracks… that is what life exists for me.
dreams of cottonwoods snowing
evergreens rustling in the wind;
church in her garden, a forest of beautiful music.
A trowel of peace
leaves roots of hope escaping
the dirt of Eden.
Yellow ripe bee hive
nourish the Queen beneath eggs
flourishing new life.
Wild frosty ground
works wonders Spring approaches
housing orange blossoms.