Endings and Beginnings

Getting back into my car yesterday at the library, I noticed the trees at the edge of the parking lot.  I had to jump out again with my camera to get a few shots.  Aren't these leaves wonderful?  I love how the bright green along the veins feathers into the yellow - very artful, could be the inspiration for a textile project, perhaps some kitchen towels or a pair of mittens.  I don't know what kind of trees they are but they are definitely one of the few that still are displaying colorful leaves before their winter's rest.

These chubby boys are two of the garlic bulbs that we broke apart and planted on Saturday.  The variety is Bogatyr.  I've never grown it before but it gets great reviews for both flavor and long storage from many of the gardening folks.

We also planted German Extra Hardy and Pink Music, both saved from our own 2010 crop.  Garlic needs to be planted in the autumn.  So while most of the garden real estate is quiet, the cloves of garlic are tucked in the ground, given a light feeding, and covered with mulch to keep them cozy.  Hopefully the cloves will settle in and begin to send out their roots even in the cold months ahead while I'm inside weaving, spinning and browsing seed catalogues.

So that's how it goes.  Some things are shutting down, finishing up, getting ready to rest for a few months, while others are just beginning, taking those first few steps toward a new season of life.

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all!

It's a Woman's Prerogative to Change Her Mind

I had intended to take a break from blogging for a while to concentrate on some things I'd really like to finish up.  Well, you know how the unexpected has a way of popping up.  Early the other morning I was hanging laundry in the backyard before the sun was up over the trees.  When I bent over to pick up the basket, I noticed how the patch of clover under the clothesline was dusted with frost.  Not enough frost to wither the tender leaves but just enough to give a magical effect.  See how the edges of the leaves are outlined with white?  It made me catch my breath for a moment, that completely random artistry of nature.



As long as I had my camera, I headed down to the pond.  Not much frost effect there but I did see that the clouds were perfectly reflected in the still water.

Now I know neither of these things are especially remarkable, but in less than a half an hour, the sun had melted that dainty frost off of the clover and the clouds had moved on to wherever they were heading.  And that is what I thought was so special - little fleeting bits of beauty that I wouldn't have witnessed if I hadn't been out hanging laundry.  Keep your eyes open.  You never know what you'll see.

Hiatus

I'm going to take a break from my blog for a while.  I have a few projects that I'd like to focus my attention on, so I'll leave you for now with a poem and warm wishes for the season of celebrating which is just around the corner.  Take care!


Bird Medicine


Let me lean on you, goldfinch.
Your flashing wings the crutches
To steady my halting footsteps
Along uncertain paths.


Trusty white-throated sparrow 
Welcome back from your summer sojourn.
Your lilting "Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody"
An aspirin of melody
To ease the aches
Of a bruised human heart.


Come chickadee, nuthatch,
Titmouse, cardinal -
Cool my stinging eyes
With visions of your migrations,
Your courtships and fledging offspring,
Your survival through winter's cold fist.


And you, barred owl, you
Will brew for me an evening elixir,
A honeyed nightcap of hoots, coos and chuckles,
So soothing, so seductive
My frantic brain must surrender
To the beckoning downy nest of sleep.


Only a moment now
Before the cares of a long day
Yield to night.
Just enough time
To sigh a drowsy thanks
To the creatures of feather and song,
Physicians of the wing.