Memorial Day 2011

Between the Storms

What I saw on my computer screen.


What it looked like from my front stoop.









I've only cowered in the basement once, so far. Nothing materialized except some water seeping under the basement wall. It rainith. A lot. we have managed to duck out between the storms. Everything is green, moist, singing, blooming . . . in such a rush.

Nooooo! Not the Daffodils!

Who'd a thunk it?


P.S. After 2 weeks it's good to be outside. One nasty virus. Felled us both. Whew.

God Bless America

It's been a long ten years. So much is owed to the brave men who killed the man responsible for the 9/11 strikes on America.

"U.S. forces were led to the fortress-like three-story building after more than four years tracking one of bin Laden's most trusted couriers, whom U.S. officials said was identified by men captured after the September 11, 2001 attacks."

That man who identified the courier was water-boarded at Gitmo.
Update: There is disagreement about where this person was interrogated. It may have been in an over-seas facility. None of this is pretty. But neither were the deaths of 3 thousand innocent Americans.

These Things I know

My dear friend, Anne, was cleaning bookshelves and came across this poem. She shared it with me. I love it.

These Things I Know:

I have planted a garden,
so I know what faith is.

I have seen birch trees
swaying in the breeze, so
I know what grace is.

I have seen a morning without
clouds, after showers,
so I know what beauty is.

I have read a book beside
a wood fire,
so I know what contentment is.

I have seen the miracle of
the sunset, so I know what
grandeur is.

And because I have perceived
all these things, I know
what wealth is.



- Capper's Weekly - unattributed

I know you could add your own list of 'wealth-making' experiences.

Done With Ice

(you might have to click to read)

Couldn't stand looking at that ice in my previous post. We're nowhere near magnolia blooms, yet - but - hope SPRINGs eternal ;-)

Ice Would Suffice . . .

One couldn't help but to see the beauty despite the damage.


Yes, that's the electric meter.



Yes, that's the power line under that huge hunk of tree. Luckily it's not alive.
(The power line, that is.)



Oh yes. We've had enough ice to suffice for a very, very long time ;-D





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The Eating Season

The Eating Season

Pack it away,

theres’ snow on the way.

The squirrels are so busy,

they’re all in a tizzy

to stash nuts for the day

we’ve been holding at bay

that now will arrive

while our need to survive

sends us out to the kitchen

with that tooth that’s been itch’n

for pastry and butter,

synthetic and other,

to stuff in our face

en route to our waist

in commensurate measure

to the squirrels’ buried treasure.

Cathy Wilson

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Waiting For the Sun

Bringing the Sun Up

No lights in the neighbors' windows yet.
Venus, my February companion,
floats above Ed’s roof.
The planet is so bright with reflected light
that the cold on my cheeks
feels like heat.

That’s why I stand here.
On a quiet street, waiting.
For the planet's fading into dawn.
For the cardinal's silhouette at the feeder,
For Ed, in his red flannels, collecting the paper.
For the heart’s cares melting,
like Venus,
into morning.





Catherine Wilson

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What is it?

MARCH 9 UPDATE BELOW!


I found this gem in the most unlikely place. Can you guess where?




This graceful little nest hangs just above the ground beside a path in the local woods.





(click for larger image)
It was perhaps a foot off the ground and was pendulous like an oriole nest. It was approximately 5 inches long and at the widest part, maybe 3 inches. Any ideas as to who built it?


March 9 UPDATE:
NEAT! Tom from Ask a Naturalist.com has solved the mystery! He consulted two experts and the consensus is red-winged black bird. An oriole nest is also a possibility. Thank you Tom!

EARLIER UPDATE:
My friend, Jonna, suggested perhaps, that the nest belongs to a Red-eyed Vireo! This from a site called Familiar Birds of America:
"Nesting.--The red-eyed vireo builds a dainty little pensile nest suspended usually from a forking, horizontal branch of a shrub, or low branch of a tree, rather below the level of our eyes as we walk through second-growth. The nest is a beautifully finished piece of workmanship, constructed of fine grasses and rootlets, bits of birch bark, and paper from wasps' nests, bound together and to the supporting branches with spider's or caterpillar's webbing, and, perhaps the most constant material, long, narrow, flexible strands of grapevine bark, which help to hold up the cup of the nest. It may be ornamented on the outside with bits of lichen. Dr. Arthur A. Allen (1932) says that it has thinner walls usually than other vireo's nests."

I Heard a Bird Sing . . .

click . . please



I Heard a Bird Sing

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember:
"We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,"
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.

Oliver Herford

Winter Leaves

Not playful, nor baleful . . .
only searching frosted ground.
Brailing forward, pausing softly,
briefly shifting, moving toward . .

destinations far from treetops
destinations far from home,
resting finally among the others
whose traveling days are done.




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Making Merry Memories

Even Jacob Marley can be coaxed to grin during the Christmas season.



Smiles can be found perched on an antique milk can.



It's not impossible to create merriment to brighten these days of icicles and a lesser sun.



Of course, merry memories begin with family and friends.

Hope your Christmas was merry and all good wishes for a Happy New Year!

Time To Find a Puddle of Sunshine

I love this turkey photo. Took it through a closed window. Captures this time of year.



It was dang cold in Ohio today. Even the chickadees are looking for a puddle of sunshine.

Wistful November. The Bare Bones of Life

Autumn Sunrise




Iron and Lace



Dad (far right) in whose honor I am donating monthly to The Wounded Warrior Project.

October Impression . . .

It's that sleepy time of year. Hudson dreaming of August chipmunk chases.

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