Lydia!

I overheard a woman calling out to a little girl, over and over again…. Lydia! Lydia!

Lydia is a pretty name, one that I don’t hear very often. But, there was a certain tone to it this time, a sharpness with a note of command backing it up. I couldn’t help but hear from where I was standing. The sound of it interrupted my thoughts. My thoughts were simple ones of tea towels and autumn inspired linens… and leaves turning and drifting in a beautiful whirlwind of gemstone colors….

Lydia’s mother and grandmother were getting louder and more emphatic all the time, trying to corral her… while Lydia herself, seemed lost in thought like me and cheerfully free spirited.

To be honest, I giggled to myself as a song sprang to mind –

“Lydia, Oh Lydia

Say, have you met Lydia

Lydia, the tattooed lady….”

It goes on from there… This child was certainly no Lydia of that variety! Another young girl named Virginia Weidler sang the rollicking song in the black and white film, The Philadelphia Story, starring Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. She was absolutely marvelous, playing the piano with vigor and belting out every word with flair! So there I found myself, giggling in a swirl of lost thoughts of my own.

I caught sight of dancing feet to the left of me and so, I looked up. There was Lydia! Her hair was a bit messy, long enough to brush the tops of her shoulders and with a few squirrelly knots thrown in for good measure. Her pint sized glasses were slightly askew. And, she wore a pale pink dress, the kind that little girls love to twirl about in and feel them spiral outwards and let the wind catch beneath them. If one spins fast enough one might just be able to gather enough air to set one flying….

Who knows what adventure one might have then!? I write from experience…

She was clearly smitten with the Christmas decorations, all the colorful displays full of the promise of a crisp winter morning and a stocking full of sweets.

The moment was chocked full of irony though.

Lydia, her name and herself, sailing away upon the air, so genuine and carefree.

While the calling out on the other hand was an earth bound and controlling thing, limited and tethered…like trying to put a leash on a butterfly.

It always strikes me when I see a child so young in glasses. However did they know she needed them. I began wearing glasses in school when it became clear I couldn’t see the blackboard very well. I wore contacts for a while but gave them up and went back to glasses for ease and comfort. The continuous losing of them is another story altogether.

I wonder how long she had had her glasses. Were they brand new. Did the whole world look different, crisper, clearer and brighter than she had ever seen it before!

I shall never forget the day I got my first pair of glasses. I sat still and upright in the straight backed chair with its industrial gray cushion. My feet dangled as I was too small for them to touch the floor. The lady on the other side of the table slipped the glasses with the tiny pink panther emblem onto my face. She ensured that they fit properly in all the right places and ways.

Then the lady sat back and smiled as though she was setting me free. They were all mine now. And, I turned my head to the right towards the plate glass window… and I could see… every last leaf on the wise old trees across the way. Not a mass of green all blurred together. But, every tree and every branch stood out with singular clarity. I could see! It seems fitting now that it was trees that I saw in that moment. Trees have been constants in my life, and I can remember each of them in turn and the vast importance of them to my heart and to my seeing.

I never heard a word at all out of Lydia, herself. She was as silent as a tiny mouse on Christmas eve.

I only heard her mother and her grandmother calling to her. They were far enough away and around a corner so that she was displaced from their view. That is a scary thing for a parent, to be sure. No doubt, they simply wanted her to be safe.

I don’t know what their names were. I don’t know whether they one day twirled in a pale pink dress silently but in high spirits. I don’t know if they were caught up by some small novelty. I don’t know if someone called out to them too, trying to keep them safe… but still, breaking the magic spell of being a child full of wonder… seeing life for the very first time…

Why, I ask myself, would anyone put a leash on a butterfly….

Oh, to be free to dance in the bluest autumn sky…

****

ellie894 October 2, 2022 A very happy October to everyone! Suzanne ❤️

The Book of the Sun

April showered thousands upon thousands of drops of rain

But, the sun kept shining

May flowered tenderly in candy pastels

Gifts from the sun who kept on shining

June danced with the faery beneath a mystical moon

While the midsummer sun kept shining

July searched desperately for shade

As the searing sun kept right on shining

August hoped for a hint of breeze

And the sun refused to stop shining

September whispered words long awaited

Of a bountiful harvest because the sun had kept on shining

October blazed in autumnal glory!

Yet another story, from the book of the sun who kept on shining

November smiled through sleepy eyes

Of gratitude for the sun who all year long had kept on shining

December hurried and flurried in moments of joy

And also some sorrow, but the sun kept on shining

January quietly began it all again

And so, the sun kept shining

February gazed upon soft snow drifting

Steady as a mountain, the cheerful sun kept on shining

Now March is on us

And without a doubt

The lovely sun shall keep on shining….

****

ellie894 March 11, 2022

Light and Hope…

In the spring I plant morning glories. Heavenly blue is the name on the seed packet, and they certainly are all of that! I hope they will begin to flower in the summer. But, it is autumn when they reach their most beautiful.

Some years I get the seeds tucked away in the dirt nice and early. They have taken over whole fences at times! When I am not careful enough in my placement, they have taken over other plants with their exuberant tendrils. Not so good.

Some years, I am late and so are the flowers. This year was somewhere in between early and late. I planted the seeds and I waited. The vines curled upward. The delicate heart shaped leaves multiplied. I had hope.

I waited for the first sign of a flower in June. Nothing and nothing and nothing….

The days sort of melted and meandered. I lost track of their comings and goings.

Until I found myself in a gentle clear morning in October. However did it come to be October?! And Now December?! 31st no less?! I think Dobby and Jack must have done something to the calendar. Yes, that must be it.

Lately, a young buck in velvet is spending his dawn hours at the western edge of an eastern wood. Our silent paths cross often.

A doe and her fawn step gingerly to the lake as the cranes search for their breakfast.

Crossing and more crossing of paths.

And, the feathers! I have lost count of them. There has never been a feather season with so many gifts, of all shapes and sizes. A feather is a lot like a leaf. The one is as unique to the bird as the other is to the tree… as a wing is to a butterfly..

This year some of the wings have come as grounded things.

Once upon a time in early June…

…the caterpillars arrived by mail.

For a week they ate their weight in food and then some. They ate and ate….and ate. They grew and grew….and grew. They were very much like Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Clearly, he did his research!

One day the caterpillars climbed to the tippy top of their tiny home and each one made their very plump form into a jolly letter J. Within hours, the J that they were, had disappeared. Now, they were each closed up tight in a chrysalis of their own creation.

It didn’t look like much, this simple chrysalis. For a week there was nothing much to see or to do. Waiting. Lots of waiting. For me and for them, although I suspect they were doing far more important things with their solitary time than I was.

Then, one by one the chrysalides turned darker. It is when they have reached their most colorless moment that they unfold into the light….

…behold a butterfly…

Oh, what a miracle to see a butterfly unfold! Their wings are soft and crumpled at first, like a blanket fresh from the wash. Right away they instinctively climb upwards to a safe place. Then they wait some more. Their wings slowly straighten, dry out and become strong. It takes from a few minutes to a few hours as they ready themselves to be what they already are within.

They begin to play in a gentle flapping way that is not quite a flutter. That will come in due time.

Over the next three to four days the painted ladies were taken outdoors to be set free among the flowers. Hot days sent a few of them soaring into the sunshine. Some settled in the shade. Most of them flew away…

One remained….

The first time I tried to let her go, she fell from the flower and struggled to right herself. I reached gently all the way down to the pine straw. She grabbed hold of my finger and let me lift her up. She spread her wings and crawled up my arm to see what she could see from my shoulder. But, she did not fly away. She was definitely not ready to go yet.

After a few more tries on the days that followed, I realized that for whatever reason, she was unable to fly. She could flutter like crazy. And, she loved to curl her proboscis to eat and explore. But, there would be no flying for her.

So, I set out to make her as comfortable as I could. I gathered fresh flowers and leaves for her each morning and spritzed them lightly with water. I made her home at the heart of where I spend a great deal of time, the kitchen. How quickly we learned each other’s ways. I knew all of her favorites as she became a sweet part of June floating into July and on into August…

Gilda means messenger. That was her name. I also called her Miss Butterfly or even Miss B. She liked to be held, especially in the afternoons. She adored fresh watermelon to eat, and would “nod” her antennas at me in a cheerful hello of sorts. Seriously. She did.

She could flutter like the dickens although her wings couldn’t take her skyward. I would often reach in and place my finger nearby. Sometimes she would flutter with excitement. Sometimes she would pay me a never you mind and simply drift back to sleep.

Mostly, she would climb onto my waiting hand as though she simply wanted to be held for a while. So, I would. There we would sit, Miss B and me, quiet and still, with her at rest in my hand. She slowed me down in the most lovely of ways.

I offered her as many fruits as I could think of! Her absolute favorite was watermelon. And, so that’s what she and I settled on. Oh, how she loved watermelon! There was a brief stint with bananas. But, after she scared me something awful and got stuck in them….no more bananas.

Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet. I think that’s how she came to know me. She knew the taste of my skin. Perhaps she learned that she could trust me. Maybe.

At 9 weeks old, she moved more slowly each day. I wished that she could have flown but her gentle life was so full of light. She graced my days for three full months! That is a long life for a Painted Lady and I’m grateful for every moment of it that she shared with me.

I still miss her. Cutting her watermelon. Letting it come to room temperature. It startled her if it was too cold. Picking her up and placing her gently on the edges so she could taste that it was there. The simple joy of seeing her eat. The way her antenna would bob. And holding her for a time, just because…

Occasionally she tickled me with her tiny feet. Mostly my skin couldn’t feel her in my hand. My heart always felt her though. Love is like that I think.

So the hot dry summer days kept on.

With them I watched for the morning glories to form and blossom. Nothing. I had all but given up hope for them this season. I had resigned myself to the notion that the green heart shaped leaves would have to be enough this year. There would be other seasons, I told myself.

I thought forward to next spring, planning ahead and determined to get the seeds in the ground nice and early…

Then, in early October as I set out on a morning walk under misty skies, there she was…Heavenly Blue…her light shining from within as soulfully as Miss Butterfly.

I have written on this over and again. Now, here we are on the very last day of the year. It’s time…

This story took months to live and much wandering beneath trees to write. I don’t know why the morning glories didn’t bloom more this year. I don’t know why Miss Butterfly couldn’t fly and spent her life with me instead. I don’t know a lot of things about this year that is nearly over. I only know this – One can make all the difference…

A flower full of light….a butterfly full of hope….Love is like that I think…

May you be safe and well and may you have light and hope.

Suzanne 🦋

****

ellie894 December 31, 2020

my eagle…

The day lilies are budding

They will be as yellow as the sun

When they arrive

I’m smiling already

For the joy of them.

I think

I won’t mow around the juniper

As it’s where the bunny

Has his daily feast

And I wouldn’t want him

To go hungry.

By the time I reach the briers

There is another,

He doesn’t know me as well

So, is more cautious,

Hops away faster

Than the other.

Crows as black as the night

Take off from the open grasses

Calling to each other as they do…

They have a lively conversation

Amongst themselves

How kind of them to let me listen

Even if

I don’t quite understand

The language…

The wind blows strong today

Clouds coming and going

Crossing the sun

Making my shadow long

Then, just as suddenly..

..leaving, and all of me is gone.

I like the gentle shadows,

I guess that’s because I know

The heavy heat of summer

Will be here soon,

And the shadows are a comfort

To tender things

That need protection

..for them to grow.

It is feather season!

I found the first only recently!

It delighted me

From head to toe!

It was downy white and small,

And set my thoughts to soaring

The widest open skies.

This morning there was another,

I went in close

My heart took a leap,

.. and I turned my gaze upward

Knowing he wouldn’t be there

But hoping…

…all the same.

He is never very far away

Although I seldom see him.

I keep watch..

..and wonder

If he does the same for me.

And so I am at the water’s edge again,

Where the wind blows

As strong

As if I’m by the sea..

I search the heavens and wait

For him to fly once more to me…

****

ellie894 May 22,2020

a song so very whole…

 

Early I walked,

*

As the rain came bold

From a heavy sky

The drums, they thundered

Inviting me to dance along

Yes, I said

Without ever asking why…

*

Soft and steady

Stronger now

On and on they fell

My footsteps, and the rain…

Droplets gathered

On the tip ends of the trees

And not a word was written

Not one, not by me

*

But, they are waiting,

Closer than you think,

Can you hear them rolling in the thunder

Do you know them warming in your soul…

*

Slow yourself,

In a delicious kind of way

And, let the rain sing to you…

*

Let it take you in

Become a part of it

No longer a page,

Of broken notes

Instead,

….a song…so very whole…

It is enough to dampen your skin

But not your spirit,

Everything it touches

Echoes with a different tone

A harmony of melodies

Heretofore unknown

Discover yourself

…wandering,

no longer in the woods

but, through the very music itself

raindrops gently on the leaves

and the bark

and the pine straw floor…

here a piano

there a violin,

drums to the heavens

cellos to the depths

and yes…even upon

your soft wet skin…

the stage is simple…

the composer unseen…

and you the only audience

to this song of a lifetime

played within a dream…

Early I walked in the rain…

*

And so it is,

That I wrote

Nothing at all…

****

ellie894 March 8, 2020

smiling…

The sun is going down

The woods are oh so quiet

The pond lays like a mirror

The trees, all darkened silhouettes

No wind stirs and no bird sings

Only the coyotes begin to call..

…from somewhere far off

And high overhead

A sliver of moon…is smiling…

****

ellie894 February 29, 2020

Sitting at the lake at sunset. Listening to “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith

Happy New Year!

My kindest thanks to Rory for the ‘New Year’s Tag’ prompt. If you’ve not met Rory please do go and have a visit.

Here is how to participate:

Share a link back to the person who tagged you.

Share a link to the person who created the tag-jesusluvsall.wordpress.com

Share a favorite New Year’s Memory

Answer the questions of the person who tagged you.

Tag whoever you want.

Use any picture that you like for New Years.

Memory –

This is more of a mysterious New Year‘s memory.On December 31, 2016 I went walking as I so often do and everything was as it should be. The very next morning, nice and early January 1, 2017 I saw something that caught my eye. It’s in the tree branches to Bo’s right. Look closely.

*** a wine glass was resting purposefully in the bare branches of a tree right at eye level. It brought to mind a dozen questions! I left it where I found it. Day after day I walked passed it for nearly a year. It became a part of things. Until one day someone came along and moved it. It surprised me how much I missed it being in the cedar tree.

An empty glass waiting to be filled with anything. Like a new year, empty and waiting to be filled with anything.It was that spring that I first started writing here on WordPress

To the questions –

If you could celebrate the New Year anywhere. where would it be?

sky and water…

…right here is good…

What is your favorite snack food for New Years?

although I like lots of different foods, like cheese and kettle chips and fruit and guacamole and salsa…really really I do. But, I just can’t resist the chance to say…Cookies! You didn’t see that coming did you… world’s most perfect food.

Bo, however, likes toast! He can hear a toaster pop in the next county over.He’s very well mannered though when he waits for his share…

Have you ever kept a New Year’s resolution? If so, what was it?

Well, this morning I opened my sock drawer and as I looked at the options it came to me clear as day…life is shortwear your best socks now. Don’t save them. You’re worth good socks, the kind that hug your feet.Unless you’re going to play in the mud with Dobby. Keep one pair of old socks on hand for messy doggy days.

So, I think I’ve just made a resolution. I’ll let you know next year how it all turns out.

I think I’ll ask Jack to teach me some new yoga poses too…stretch both the body and the soul..

What do you want to do with your blog this year?

Intrigue! Mystery! High Speed Adventure!

Perhaps I’ll tell you about my book idea. I already have a title. It will be called – The Dog Eats Half My Food. I can’t decide if it will be a memoir or a diet book. Probably, both. It will be riveting...and slimming…

And hopefully some quiet and thoughtful reflection…

Do you prefer a big party or a small gathering to celebrate? 

Small, definitely small. Get two sofas and have them face each other. Push them together until there isn’t any floor between them. Add fluffy pillows and blankets. Now then, you’ve built a sofa fort and you’re all set!

Who is next to answer the ‘same’ questions?

I invite anyone and everyone to wade right in and give it a go!

Thank you so kindly to all of you for being such a beautiful part of my days.I’m very grateful for You!

Suzanne ❤️

January 2, 2020

fire will never be water…

One cannot blame the water for doing what water does

Anymore than one can blame the fire
All things of this world are simply what they are
They come and they go
Seeking solace and balance,
Their own sweet place in this odd turn of events
That we call life
Letting go of all they are not meant to be
To be only what they are
Fire will never be water
Air will never be earth
And me…
I am a piece of them all
I am the wind that blows, thoughts drifting through my mind
I am the land, a dusty shell that walks the path only for a while
I am the fire, created in a moment of passion,
Seeking to feed the flame
I am the water, life giving and nourishing, 
Deeper than can be seen
I am all of these, and spirit as well
The breath that comes from somewhere
The knowing that comes from nowhere
And if one by one they each left me…
What would I be then
Would I be anything at all
Or would I vanish in a flash
Buried in the dust
Drowned by the water
Burned within the flame 
Carried unseen by the wind
To a new place 
Not even imagined yet…

****

ellie894 December 16, 2019

Scene Cuts – Comedy

Scene Cuts Created by A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip!

Thank you Rory for inviting me to share funny moments from movies I love in this premiere of Scene Cuts! We could all do with more laughter in our lives and this is wonderful way to begin. 

Once a week, Rory will pick a Film Genre, post three film clips and tag three readers who in turn will post three film clips on the chosen film genre and tag 3 of their own. 

In Rory’s own words – So what’s Scene Cuts? Fair question … and answered very simply – everyone love movies and films and everyone loves ‘ snippets’ from their favourites … those funny scenes, those moments which just captivated you!

This week’s theme is Comedy! 

My three clips are…

 

 

 

I invite anyone who would like to share funny movie moments to pause their giggles and do so! 

****

ellie894  October 6, 2019

321 Quote Me – Gratitude

 

Thank you to Rory for tagging me in 321 Quote Me! His chosen theme of this one is Gratitude. He has a marvelous welcoming site that encourages both thought and community. Please do visit him and enjoy a look around.

**

321 Quote Me Created by A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip

 

Gratitude

Piglet noticed that even though he had a very small heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.

A.A. Milne

***

Gratitude turns what we have into enough.

Aesop

***

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.

G.K. Chesterton

How does one sum up gratitude in two quotes? Well, as you can clearly see, I didn’t. I searched and searched for just the right words to say what I felt to be true. I searched and searched for just the right photo. Time and again I found myself back where I began. Quotes about gratitude often end in love. Images that inspire gratitude are of things I love. It would do me no good to try and separate the two. They are as intricately woven together as is the most delicate lace.

I love the way…is where my writing so often begins. It is my heart’s gratitude for the everyday things and the ways of them.

I love..

..the way the breeze picks up the edges of the sheets that are hung on the clothesline to dry

..the way hummingbirds hover in sweet greeting making me feel a part of their tiny world

..the way calves are insatiably curious and begin to follow me

..the way flowers bloom..enough said

..the way autumn colors light everything in a spectacular sunset that lasts beyond nightfall

..the way Dobby looks at me with soulful eyes and waggles his short tail

..the way a crockpot does all the cooking for me on a long day

..the way a song catches in your center and won’t let go and you’re glad for it to be there

..the way Jack reminds me of a muppet

..the way pizza can have any topping you like

..the way the first cool morning after a hot summer excites like love’s first kiss

..the way Bo adores the porch but thinks the yard is made of lava

..the way children giggle..at almost anything

..the way cookies go well with cold milk or hot tea or…come to think of it, cookies go well with everything

..the way clouds make movies in the sky

..the way Ellie snuggles just because

..the way friends encourage each other

..the way a grateful heart makes us mindful of the needs of others

Gratitude is not a thing. It is a way of being. Gratitude is the way you love everything around you…and then it is the way that everything around you loves you back…

Thank you kindly for reading and for being a beautiful part of my days,

Suzanne❤️

321 Quote Me encourages me to tag three people to continue on with sharing their own favorite quotes about gratitude. I invite anyone who is so inspired to participate and link back to Rory at A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip