Category Archives: Seasons

In the neighborhood, Pastimes, Seasons, Wildflowers

Woodland harbingers

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The sun was shining and it felt warm like spring yesterday so I went looking for wildflowers. That was a total waste of time! The white-throated sparrows and I were digging through the leaf litter, both of us searching for some morsel to sustain us through the last weeks of winter.

I found the skunk cabbage coming to life in the wettest places alongside the brook, yet wouldn’t consider eating anything that looks like this, despite someone’s suggestion that it’s edible. Yesterday’s walk wasn’t so much about finding any true signs of spring, but about taking the time to be out and looking.

I’m guessing this might be the very beginnings of spring beauties, but no matter, that green is just gorgeous! The space for some quiet time alone in the woods yesterday and the chance to slow down and put some thought back into the rhythm of my life was worth the couple hours *wasted* looking for flowers that won’t be ready to bloom for a few weeks still.

Gill-over-the-ground had the earliest start of all and was spreading its heart-shaped carpet wherever a bit of sun encouraged it. A weed, yes, but it beats a seeing only a layer of ice and snow.

I had to really dig to find these and can’t imagine what they are, but last spring virginia bluebells and trout lilies grew in this same spot. It’s nice to have that knowledge of a place now, to see these tender shoots and imagine what they might become with enough warmth and sunlight.

The knees of my jeans were wet and muddy by the time I’d had enough rooting around in the leaves, but I’ve learned that’s part of the fun of spring too; having your hands in the earth and getting dirty again.

I’d imagine that we all have different spring milestones we look for that are dependent upon where we live. Maybe it’s the first crocus, or the first skeins of geese overhead in the night, or the appearance of buckets on a row of sugar maples.

I haven’t found mine yet.

What have you been looking for? Have you found it?

Garden, Seasons, Snapshots

Hints…

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Jonquils (aka Daffodils to us more Northern folks) sent by a friend from a place where Spring sounds to be making a bit more headway.

😉

Thanks J. for this peak at what’s to come. Spring will arrive and it’ll be more beautiful than we remember. Can there be anything sweeter than unexpected flowers from far away?

Seasons, Whatever

Weather report

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Isn’t that a pretty sun
setting in a pretty sky?
Will we stay and watch it darken?
Will we stay and watch it darken?

–The Waterboys Church Not Made With Hands

It was 74 degrees today here at the Jersey Shore. 74 degrees on the 6th of February. Hmmm… the sunset was right for the season: a pink bowl glazed with gold and orange that quickly changed to deep purple and brilliant blue that deepened then to black.

The gulls and runners were out in force along the boardwalk, as they should be, both facing into the warm wind. The cabanas and empty condos are shuttered against blizzards that may never come this winter. The marina boats are wrapped in plastic and the motels empty among the blinking traffic lights.

Where’s the snow to fill the gullies in the jetty? Why isn’t the sand crunching underfoot? Why aren’t my eyes tearing with the wind along my raw cheeks?

What is wrong with this picture?

😉

A year ago this week I was watching the iceboats on the Navesink, kids skating and playing *river* hockey. Today I put the air-conditioner on in my car and have most of the windows open here at home tonight.

This balmy weather is a treat, but I’m sure we’ll pay for it somehow. Probably with an Easter Sunday blizzard or the likes.

😉

Books, Pond, Seasons

The interim

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Hal Borland made me chuckle this morning with this:

“No matter what happens now, the year has committed itself, January is past, this is February, and up there ahead lie March and April. And May. But since man is man, not woodchuck, he has to live with the interim, not sleep it out and emerge into a green and vernal world. Incidentally, there weren’t any woodchucks out in this neck of the woods on Groundhog Day. If the alarm clock went off, they let it ring, as they usually do.

This is probably as good a time as any to remember that it is only 85 days until May Day, when violets will be in bloom and the lawn will need to be mowed again. And it is only 149 days till the Fourth of July, when the beaches will be jammed and sunburn will be as universal as sniffles are now.

And it is only 208 days till Sept. 1st. That won’t be the end of Summer by the almanac, but to all practical purposes Autumn starts with Labor Day. Back to the desk, back to work, back to school. And the next thing we know, it will be October and first frost and Columbus Day and the height of the color in the trees in New England. And before you can catch your breath it will be Thanksgiving. How time flies! If you really must know, it is only 323 days till Christmas. And then it will start snowing again.

Maybe we shouldn’t have brought the matter up to begin with. But it is February, after all, only 85 days till May Day.” — from Sundial of the Seasons

Day after day, year upon year I find a minute to read the day’s entry in this favorite of all my books. Hal Borland somehow always manages to speak to the things I know to be true and, more often than not, makes me laugh in the process.

I laugh at myself for longing to see my little pond alive again, like in this photo, rather than the sad gloomy mess it is at the moment. I almost can’t wait to have my hands in the dirt come Spring, though it will mean an end to the twice monthly manicures that have my fingernails looking pretty for a change.

That’s not to say that I’m not enjoying this time in between, but maybe that it’s the anticipation of the next that makes now enjoyable. Tonight it’s almost 60 degrees and I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have found my way out to the farm field in back to see if the woodcock weren’t feeling that same anticipation.

Bunnies, Garden, Pastimes, Seasons, Whatever

Summer… or snow

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The gray snowless sky is getting the better of my mood lately, I think. I love the winter and the chill wind, but it all seems pointless without a covering of snow to change the view some. It’s all just brown and monotonous otherwise.

I walked and walked in the woods this afternoon to get rid of the restlessness and to look for some color or something of interest. Finally I settled on the boost a visit to the greenhouse would give… that stifling heat and the smell of growing things and the color! I do this often enough that the ladies who manage the greenhouse know not to ask me if I need help with purchasing something… I’m there just to wander among the flowers and soak up enough of the moist air to help me remember that winter and its gray wont last forever.

I saw the beginnings of their Spring display, with primroses and pansies and the most wonderful of hydrangeas. Bunny topiaries and sweet little bird’s nest wreaths. It’s all deception now, in late January, like the seed catalogs with their pics of tomatoes red and juicy enough to make my mouth water at the thought of a summer afternoon wandering barefoot along the rows of my garden. That memory seems like such a luxury at this time of year, roaming around the garden to see what’s ready for picking, sitting down beside the pond to watch the dragonflies and the fish, hanging out there until the fireflies come to flash their love songs in the night.

My heart’s set on summer… or snow.

Growing up, Remembering, Seasons, Snapshots

One last quirky bit

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So the mayhem of Christmas Day is done and I can sit in my barefeet in my peaceful house and be glad for the quiet again.

It was a day full of relatives and food and I’ve had my fill of both for a while, I think. I spent the morning at Christmas breakfast with my brothers and then had the in-laws and their babies and family friends and strangers they brought in off the street for the afternoon and into the night. I never would have thought my little house could hold so many! But there was one point during the night when I stood in my kitchen and looked out at the room full of laughing faces and was glad (mostly) for their company; glad at least that they were all together for the first time in a long while. I smiled at that.

I want to share two last things before wandering away for a few days: first a final example of quirkiness found at my brother’s. Do any of you remember those old-fashioned tinsel trees? Well, Brian bought this one and has it decorated with bubble lights and antique Shiny-Bright ornaments he’s bought off eBay or pilfered from my dad’s garage and we all think it’s the most beautiful thing.

Growing up, we had two xmas trees. The real one in the basement was for us kids; the one upstairs was for show and was a tinsel tree like this, but full size and with one of those color-wheel projection thingies that must have been all the rage at some point in history. God awful at the time, probably, but memory and nostalgia make my brothers and I yearn to find one like it again.

Lastly, a poem of sorts, sent by my brother Kevin. He had meant for me to include it here somehow, but it almost feels too personal to do so. I’ll post it anyway, with the idea that most of the meaning I read into it may well go right over your heads. I’m counting on that anyway.

😉

“First Christmas”

Early morning quiet
Lighted tree
Waits, anticipates, overcompensates

Sound,
Little girls feet
Cold crisp floor

Too young
To grow up
To do without

Lights not right
Don’t hide
Tears at night

The garland
On top or underneath?
Mom knew

The tinsel last
One at a time
Mom knew

The wrapping
Ends folded wrong
Mom knew

Blue winter jacket
Too tight
Mom knew

Holly hobby house
Bad words
Stamping feet

Stockings to brim
With girly things
An orange way down

No coal this year

One day, I’ll be up to telling that story, maybe.

Hope it was happy for everyone and that Santa brought all that you’d hoped for.

Remembering, Seasons, Small truths

Waiting

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Christmas Eve is my most favorite day of the holiday season and I try to reserve it for simple joys: watching the sun rise at a decent hour and then seeing a dusk come that is like no other time of the year, filling the daylight hours in between with cooking and preparing for tomorrow’s gathering with family, visiting with friends and calling on neighbors with homemade cookies, seeing the college kids from the neighborhood at home and so grown and changed from their short time away, the long afternoon church service with candles and bell-ringers.

Once it was dark today I took a break from the kitchen and drove through the downtown to admire the glittery lights and be glad that I wasn’t one of those people still out shopping for last-minute gifts. There’s been very little in the way of that this year, for whatever reason. Not in the mood mostly, but there’s a part of me that feels empty in buying gifts when so many need something that can’t be tightly bound with a red or green bow.

I was home in time to hear the sirens far enough away in the distance to know that I hadn’t missed Santa on his firetruck prowl through the neighborhood. Funny that I should look forward to that each year like I do, but there’s a certain childish eagerness on my part for seeing him arrive with gifts for the kids who live behind us; I can’t help but wave as he goes by and remember the sound of sleigh bells from my own childhood. Someone, most probably my brothers, made a point of my hearing them from the front yard bushes before bed on Christmas Eve. Brothers, I think, are one of those gifts that takes years to appreciate or find a use for.

So now I look forward to that particular quiet that comes only after midnight this day, after the preparations are done and there’s no traffic on the road, the house dark and quiet but for the lights of the Christmas tree and rivaled only by the shimmer of winter’s brightest stars.

– – – – – – – – – – –

“Prayer
is the pathway

Stillness
is the temple

Love
is the offering we bring

Peace
is the gift we are given.”

-Joan Walsh Anglund

I wish for you peace and the simple joys that only this day can bring.

Seasons, Snapshots, Whatever

Not your normal xmas card

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Bear with me as I gear up to that quirky xmas decoration post – I’m delighting in some other examples of quirkiness!

Is it me or is this not your normal family xmas pic? Before you think anything too untoward, be reminded that this is my brother Kevin and his wife and daughter. And yes, those are real chickens they’re holding – their chickens! I can just imagine the scene with my SIL bringing those little banties into the photographer’s studio along with all her other *props*.

This was last year’s card and the one for this year hasn’t arrived yet, but I had some hint of the *theme* for this year’s shoot a few days before Thanksgiving when the SIL wanted to send me on a shopping run for matching aprons to complete the cooking concept of this year’s pic. I honestly don’t know how she comes up with the creative energy to think these things up and then the time to carry it through so well. How could I not look forward to receiving a card like this?

I’ll admit to being terribly bored by most xmas cards and think them to be a waste. Most I throw away immediately. (Shame on me… I know!) The ones I keep secreted away in a special box are ones like this, or those with photos of my friend’s kids, or the handmade ones, or the ones from special friends or family who take the time to actually write something meaningful. Cause, let’s face it, often it’s the only time we hear from a lot of people and if you’re going to take the time to send a card, couldn’t you also be bothered to write a little something in it as well, besides your name?

😉

Every year I look forward to a card from Joan who mentored me as a first year teacher. She doesn’t write much besides an update on a few of the kids we taught together and the fact that she’s almost (but not quite) ready to retire. I recognize her deliberate teacher’s block print on the envelope and smile at the thought of what news her hand will bring me.

There’s always a handwritten note tucked inside the card from the director of the bird observatory where I volunteer; Pete’s sure to wish me well in the new year and thank me for volunteering for them for more years than either of us can remember.

I don’t know… I feel like cards aren’t worth the effort if they don’t communicate something beyond the standard greeting pre-printed on the inside. What do you say? Any in particular that you anticipate each year?

In the neighborhood, Seasons, Snapshots, Whatever

First snow and a photo assignment

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Little more than a dusting before it turned to rain this afternoon, but enough to make things especially pretty in the neighborhood. I love the juxtapositions in this shot – it was autumn only yesterday, yet someone lucky enough to have their own dock on the river has set out a little Christmas tree to hold back the darkness some and cheer up my view. And it’s all dusted with just a hint of snow. This is one of my favorite spots to pass by when I take the long way home from the beach; a little cove on the far side of the river where wigeon call from the shoreline. I don’t think there’s any sweeter sound until February when the oldsquaw are courting.

Signs of Christmas are popping up everywhere but here at home; there was snow on my porch pumpkins this morning and on the red peppers and gourds that I haven’t gotten around to picking from the garden yet. I’ll catch up one of these days, honest I will!

I’ve dreampt up another assignment for the camera happy among you. Find something festive and quirky that makes you smile. Send along a photo and we’ll laugh together at the goofy ways peole like to display their cheer for the season. Would two weeks be long enough? A deadline for Friday, December 14th? Quirky is the key word, please!