Taking a Break

Two and a half years. That’s how long I’ve been posting on this blog. One hundred twenty-one posts. Once a week on Thursdays. Usually. Sometimes the posts were late. A few times, I didn’t post at all, like last week.

This blog was an experiment. Could I write a post every week? Could I express my thoughts in a way that made sense to someone other than me? Would those thoughts be something that someone would want to read? Would a reader enjoy what I wrote? And what did I want to write about?

The early posts were about the creative process in general. Some posts were about painting and included pictures of my work and my husband’s.

As time went on, though, my focus changed. I’m a city girl who never spent a lot of time deep in nature or thinking about it. Oh, I appreciated the grandness of spectacular mountain views, amazing rainbows, and the mesmerizing coming and going of the ocean’s waves. But, it’s only been in recent years that I took the time to look and listen carefully to the smaller, awesome sights and sounds in the natural world around me.

Nature became my inspiration for writing. It’s what I enjoy doing the most, and it has grown into a desire to write a book.

As with any artistic work, focus is required to take ideas and weave them together to create a cohesive whole. So, I’m going to take a break from blogging and spend the summer concentrating on my book.

Thanks to all of you who read, comment and follow this blog. It is always a thrill to come here and find your notes and new followers.

I hope your summer is filled with people you love, fun things to do and whatever else brings you joy and contentment.

I’ll be back in the fall to let you know how the book is coming along.

Night Sounds

I was up in the very early morning hours the other day. Normally, I’m not up at that time, but when I am, my only company is a ticking grandfather’s clock and the hum of the refrigerator. Not this time.

As I sat writing, I heard a lone bird – chirping, cheeping, whistling, tweeting, singing – loudly and insistently.

I don’t remember hearing birds at that hour before. I wondered why it was up.

I knew why I was awake – ideas jumping around in my brain about an essay I’ve been working on for weeks, which has been driving me crazy for months because I just wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Was the bird working on a new song, like I was working on a new essay? Or was it there to keep me company, tweeting its encouragement and support?

The bird’s vocals lasted for quite a while, much longer than I expected, and then it was gone.

Maybe it figured out its new song. Maybe it thought it had helped me as much as it could, and it was time to fly off to another house where someone else sat wide awake for reasons known only to them. Or maybe it was just tired and finally sleepy, and now it could rest.

Me? After sitting up most of the night, staring at pages and pages of notes, trying to find the meaning of the words scribbled there, I had a glimmer of an idea.

As the clock ticked and the refrigerator hummed, I tapped on the keyboard, the words settling down into a pattern that finally made sense, something I understood, something that would tell the story.

Birds’ Spring

While the robins have been strutting around acting like all the green grass is their kingdom, belonging solely to them, quietly, other birds have arrived to stake their claim.

I didn’t notice until I saw the bubble-gum-pink azalea quivering, even though there was no breeze, and out popped a catbird – its sleek dark gray body ended in an elegant black tail; on its head a tiny black cap.

I love catbirds, especially their insistent harsh call when they are excited. They seem to think that the compost pile is their private dining hall, and if it isn’t turned quickly enough, they sit on the fence and holler at you as incentive to pick up your pace.

The sparrows are rooting through the garden beds, taking beaks full of mulch, shaking them, as they forage for food.

The grackles splash in the fountains that are once again flowing, after a very cold winter.

It’s spring, and the birds are thrilled.

Take a Spring Walk

White and yellow pansies crowd around yellow tulips
Birds under leafy canopy chirp and sing a springtime song
Clusters of lavender flowers tucked among wisteria leaves drape over a gazebo
Tulips stretch long graceful stems to face the sun
White azaleas rest in the cool shade
Bird’s flight casts a shadow on grassy carpet
Ivy vines climb one on top of another to reach the light
White moth plays among yellow dandelions
Curious robins hop here and there exploring
Ripples of water chase each other in a circle while the rest of the pond watches
Dogwood trees bloom with creamy white flowers
Breeze tickles leaves
Orange and black butterfly flits by
Ferns poke their heads up
Bumble bees dance with each other
Mockingbird flashes a band of white on wings spread wide
Warm sun and cool shade take turns on the path
Walk
Breathe deeply
Find the quiet here and the peace within

Spring’s Party

Robins perch atop fresh mulch
Spread out like a tablecloth
On which flowers are placed to set a pretty table.

Sparrows hop among gold and violet pansies
Happy to be invited to spring’s annual party.

Cream and magenta tulip tree petals didn’t stay long
Blown away by hard spring rain.

Gone, too, crocuses,
First to arrive, they grew tired and went home.

Daffodils pop up like periscopes
Heads turned this way and that
Looking for their friends.

Tulips stand tall holding their cups
Of yellow, pink, red and purple.

Fuchsia, gold and deep blue primroses
Huddle close to the ground among thick green leaves
Having too much fun to leave just yet.

Azaleas finally show up
Lavenders first, then pinks, reds and whites
Slipping quietly through spring’s door.

Spring only has the party room for a while

Then summer will throw open its doors
Inviting marigolds, zinnias, geraniums and roses
To come in and have some fun.

Finally

Finally.

The sun is packing a little more heat.
The air is a little warmer.
The breeze is a little calmer.

Finally.

Happy flowers popped their pretty little heads up,
With petal hats of gorgeous red, pink, purple, yellow and white.
They simply couldn’t wait any longer.

Finally.

The Tulip tree didn’t want to be left behind so ran to its closet and pulled out creamy white and magenta blooms to dress itself.

The ornamental cherry trees joined in, adorning themselves with mounds of blush pink blossoms.

Finally.

Grass thought a touch of tender green would look stunning, too.

Finally.

Spring.

Spring’s Promise

Each tulip bloom arrived in a closed cup of fiery orangey-red edged with a deep border of egg-yolk yellow.

As they got used to the warmth of the room, the tulips gradually let their guard down and opened up a bit more each day, wider and wider, like eyes popping wide in surprise until finally each petal was sprawled out like a sunbather on the sand.

Their huge splashy selves a hope, a promise, a reminder of how good it will feel to walk in the warm spring sunshine again.