Momma Moon and Bunny

Night has fallen.  Mother Nature pulls her special midnight blue blanket over the sky and tells everyone to go to sleep.

But as soon as she’s gone, the little ones turn on their flashlights, lighting the sky up with twinkly stars.  Playing hide n’ seek, some stars slip behind the bare branches of the trees and giggle because I can’t find them.

The full moon holds a bunny in her luminous embrace.  His ears stand up like little pennants in the wind; his tail fluffs into a big powder puff.

It’s not long before the bubble of the moon bursts, and the bunny scampers away to play.  He hides so deep in the sky that I can’t find him.

Bunny hops all over the heavens for the longest time until Momma Moon calls him in from playing to rest for a while.  She wraps him in her full, soft arms – a comfortable nest – and says, “Hush now and go to sleep.  Then you can go back out to play.”

Pressing his little nose against the bubble Momma Moon has wrapped around him,  Bunny watches his starry playmates until his eyes flutter shut in contented sleep.

© Lynn Wyvill  2012

The Commanding Wind

The wind blew so hard, trees whipped about like dizzy children spun around too many times for a game.  Bamboo branches pressed to the ground and then snapped back to attention at the wind’s commanding whistle. 

Once the wind was all worked up, it sent tiny snowflakes, not down, but sideways like thousands of people blowing on dandelions gone to seed.  The wind soon tired of this and ordered the snow to stop.         

After a short rest, the wind gusted and directed big fluffy snowflakes to gently fall down, just like proper snowflakes should, and coat the earth like powdered sugar dusted on gingerbread. 

When the wind was satisfied with the wintery display, it moved on to keep the trees up all night in a restless dance of waving branches.  They knew better than to fight the wind. 

© Lynn Wyvill 2012

Red Everywhere

A song declares “what the world needs now is love.”   Yes, we do. 

And we also need buckets and buckets of red.   Red everywhere.    

I’m not talking about dangerous and angry red. Or deficit red.  No.  

Passionate red is what is required.   If we had a whole lot of red, then love and delight, exhilaration, warmth, excitement, energy, and desire wouldn’t be far behind.  That’s what I’m talking about.      

My love affair with red started when I was a kid.  Ladybugs would land on my hand and hang around with me.   My red tricycle took me fast, faster, fastest from one end of the block to the other as the wind blew the hair off my face.   Deep red autumn leaves were irresistible, and I’d never miss a chance to gather up a big bouquet of them.  Cherry popsicles and cherry pie lured me in every time. 

I never stopped loving red, although there was one frightening episode when I doubted red.  Can you believe it?  Even though it’s been many years since it happened, it makes me shudder. 

I was on a business trip and took a break to go shopping when I spotted them – red tennis shoe pumps with a white rubber toe cap and a cute little white shoe lace bow as decoration.  I wasn’t going to buy them.  I was an adult, after all.  Should I really be wearing these bright red tennie pumps at my age?  So serious I was.  

As I debated about the purchase, a wise saleswoman said, “Buy them.  It’s not real estate.  They’re cute.  And you like them.” 

Sold!  I loved those shoes.  Happy, happy was I when I wore them. 

So I’ll be the spokeswoman for red. 

I ask you, “Where would you be without a big dose of rompin-stompin, rootin-tootin rambunctious red in your life?”   

Get your red today!

What makes you feel like you can conquer the world?  A red dress, sweater, or blouse, of course.

Don’t the words caliente, spicy, and fiery raise your temperature a few degrees? 

Isn’t some expert always reminding us to eat our greens?  Yes, and we need to eat our reds, too.  It’s good for our bodies and souls to bite into luscious strawberries, sweet cherries, juicy watermelon, and earthy tomatoes.

What flowers catch your eye and make your heart all fluttery?  I’m a sucker for red tulips.  And how about those red berries on a holly tree?  Isn’t that what draws you in?  Scarlet rhododendrons, crimson peonies, and ruby red roses make my red lips curl up in a grin.    

And let me tell you, you’d be mighty disappointed if the red-breasted robin didn’t show up for the first day of spring.  Who’d lift your spirits, if it wasn’t for the cardinal hopping through the gray and white landscape of winter?  And if you really want spectacular red, watch a red-tailed hawk make a turn, catching sunlight that glints off its tail. 

Doesn’t red just make you catch your breath and say WOW?

Now here’s something to ponder.  What would happen if you took your crayon or paint and drew a big ol’ red heart on a piece of paper and presented it to someone you loved?  Huh?  What then? 

Red everywhere is my heart’s desire.

PS  — Don’t forget Tuesday, February 14, is Valentine’s Day.  

©Lynn Wyvill 2012

 

Night Parade

Saw a parade

At night

In the deep blue-grey sky.

Floats of clouds

Fat, fluffy ones

Skinny, sleek ones

Snowy white ones

Rose and lavender tinted ones

Drifting by.

Thousands of bare tree branches

Line the parade route

Waving their limbs in greeting like excited children.

Now the parade is over. 

Some of the spectators are still,

But the rest of us continue to wave

Unable to contain our delight.

© Lynn Wyvill 2012

Quiet Strength

What a shock I got this week!  I walked into my kitchen, and there he was right outside the window – a big red-tailed hawk sitting on the fence with his back turned toward me.   Slowly, he swiveled his head to look at me, and seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

I’ve seen hawks in the neighborhood before, high up in the trees, but this is the first time I’ve seen one up close.  He gave me only a moment to admire his broad mocha- colored back and expansive mottled beige- brown breast.

Please stay, I silently pleaded.   I doubted I would ever have this chance to be so close to a hawk again.

But he would have none of it.

In one swift graceful move, his powerful legs launched him off the fence.  He was gone in just a few wing beats, but not before his beautiful rusty red tail feathers flashed like polished copper in the sunlight.

Even though I was sad that our visit had been so fleeting, he left me a tremendous gift.  His majestic presence reminded me of the importance of quiet strength.  It rests deep within each of us.  If we are silent, hushing our thoughts, we will find it.

© Lynn Wyvill 2012

 

Waiting

Red-tailed hawks.  I love these magnificent birds.  It’s a thrill to see them when I least expect it.   They have gorgeous brown backs and broad ecru breasts with dark splotches, and when they fly, their coppery red tails glimmer in the sun.

Hawks are patient.  They can be quite still, silently waiting for the universe to bring them what they want, prey scurrying by.  But when they see what they want, there is no hesitation.  They swoop in to claim it.   Hawks can’t wait if they are going to survive.

Native Americans believe hawks are messengers.  They must have something to tell me because I’ve spotted a lot of them lately, perched on trees along the highways.

I think they are whispering one word to me.  Wait.

Sometimes we have to wait patiently for what we want.  But when we see it, do we swoop in and claim it?  How many times have we let someone or something pass us by because we told ourselves it wasn’t the perfect moment?

Instead of moving, we say “when.”   When the mortgage is paid, the kids are grown, we retire, we have more time, or we’ve saved more money.  Only then, we tell ourselves will we take the dream trip, start a business, take dancing lessons, or pursue whatever is our dream.

“When” becomes “maybe.”  And sadly, sometimes, “maybe” becomes “never.”

In the last few weeks, I’ve lost count of the number of hawks I’ve seen.

They couldn’t wait to tell me.

“You’ve waited long enough,” the hawks say.

“Don’t wait any longer,” they implore.  “Look.  It’s right here in front of you.  Swoop in and claim it.”

So why have the hawks come to me now with this message?  It’s what I need to hear.  Right now.

© Lynn Wyvill 2012

 

Coloring Winter’s World

All the Christmas decorations are put away for another year.  I don’t know about you, but the house always looks so bare to me after the lights and shiny glass ornaments are gone.   Without the bright greens and reds, and the glittery silver and gold, my surroundings look drab.  At this point, it seems that the next few months are probably going to involve a bad case of the “grays.”  But I’d be wrong.   No, I don’t have a tropical vacation planned, but I noticed something standing at my kitchen window the other day. 

Once the twinkle and the busyness of the season are gone, it’s as if the volume of my world is turned down.  That’s when it’s easier to notice the little things that color winter’s world.   Now I can’t miss the red cardinal on the snowy branch.   Tiny nuthatches perched on slender twig- like branches, looking dapper in their black caps, make me smile.

And how about the holly berry red that pops against the glossy green leaves?  I love the deep green of pine trees and their fragrance that perfume a winter’s day. 

Even the squirrels wear a warm blend of a grey and brown cloak over a fluffy white belly that they flash as they stand on hind legs after digging vigorously in the yard, content that they’ve buried something good that no one else will ever be able to find. 

Green moss clings to the brick walkway as a reminder that spring will eventually come again.  

Pink and lavender streaks across dawn’s sky and at dusk muted splashes of gold mesmerize me. 

Some call this the dead of winter, but I don’t think so.  It’s just the world quietly resting.  A good time to wrap up winter’s cozy peace.     

© Lynn Wyvill 2012