Thursday, November 24, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Dreaming of Spring
The deer amble slowly through the woods, stopping every so often to nibble the tender new growth of the briars. They are still indulging themselves on the rations of corn I leave them. I find offerings of great tufts of snow white fur left for me by the "spirit deer" and I gather them to place on my altar.
The world seems a happier place with spring on the horizon. All the wonderful sights and sounds we miss all winter long slowly reappear, as does my hope. Mornings are once again punctuated by cheery birdsong. A woodpecker taps incessantly on a tree; squirrels are once again busy scrambling through the thicket or rustling in the treetops putting the finishing touches to their nests. In the early evening I hear the chorus from the bogs - the peepers have returned. Oh what a joyous sound that is to my winter weary ears! A winter that seemed unending now shows the promise of spring and renewal. All at once, I am happy and thankful.
Outside my cabin the white deer gather. They munch loudly on the corn I have left them. They are at ease with my presence - their tails tucked neatly down. Soon, as the forest greens they will have little need for my handouts. That I can get this close to them still holds me in awe. Every year new deer are born, most of them mutations and not true albinos, for they lack pink eyes, nonetheless unless you have seen one of them close-up you have missed flawless magnificent beauty. They are agile and careen through the forest with swiftness and grace, never missing a step.
It is a lazy day, unseasonably warm... A day made for dreaming of summer. It feels more like July than mid-March. Two cats flank the steps to the cabin like bookends, content to lie and watch scampering squirrels vying with an array of birds for the much coveted sunflower seeds. Watching them, I feel the daily tensions slip from my body; my shoulders relax, my mind ceases to race. On a day such as this, winter seems long gone but we know that is not true - this day, this midsummer teaser has lured us from our winter dens. But that is okay, next week the calendar marks the true arrival of spring and this gal will gladly take a cool fifty degrees over those winter frigid temps any day. So, bring it on winter, get in your last blows, you can't go on forever!
Postscript - Friday, March 16th - we are in the middle of a Nor'easter and it is snowing steady and bitterly cold. *Smile* my den sure feels toasty today!
Postscript ~ This post is from a few years ago and due to technical difficulties, I had to delete the original post and repost it. So, it is not March now, as you can see from the date on this post!
The world seems a happier place with spring on the horizon. All the wonderful sights and sounds we miss all winter long slowly reappear, as does my hope. Mornings are once again punctuated by cheery birdsong. A woodpecker taps incessantly on a tree; squirrels are once again busy scrambling through the thicket or rustling in the treetops putting the finishing touches to their nests. In the early evening I hear the chorus from the bogs - the peepers have returned. Oh what a joyous sound that is to my winter weary ears! A winter that seemed unending now shows the promise of spring and renewal. All at once, I am happy and thankful.
Outside my cabin the white deer gather. They munch loudly on the corn I have left them. They are at ease with my presence - their tails tucked neatly down. Soon, as the forest greens they will have little need for my handouts. That I can get this close to them still holds me in awe. Every year new deer are born, most of them mutations and not true albinos, for they lack pink eyes, nonetheless unless you have seen one of them close-up you have missed flawless magnificent beauty. They are agile and careen through the forest with swiftness and grace, never missing a step.
It is a lazy day, unseasonably warm... A day made for dreaming of summer. It feels more like July than mid-March. Two cats flank the steps to the cabin like bookends, content to lie and watch scampering squirrels vying with an array of birds for the much coveted sunflower seeds. Watching them, I feel the daily tensions slip from my body; my shoulders relax, my mind ceases to race. On a day such as this, winter seems long gone but we know that is not true - this day, this midsummer teaser has lured us from our winter dens. But that is okay, next week the calendar marks the true arrival of spring and this gal will gladly take a cool fifty degrees over those winter frigid temps any day. So, bring it on winter, get in your last blows, you can't go on forever!
Postscript - Friday, March 16th - we are in the middle of a Nor'easter and it is snowing steady and bitterly cold. *Smile* my den sure feels toasty today!
Postscript ~ This post is from a few years ago and due to technical difficulties, I had to delete the original post and repost it. So, it is not March now, as you can see from the date on this post!
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Honeysuckle and Pink Roses
Is there anything as perfect as a warm spring day? Yes, a day filled with the heady scents of honeysuckle and roses. When I am gone from this earthly plane, I hope someone will wreath my grave in honeysuckle and remember to plant pink roses on me ~ trust me, I will know they are there. There is no rose I love more than a delicate pink rose blushing at its self as it slowly opens and wafts its bittersweet scent into the air. I am fortunate to live in an area in the pines where not only do I grow my own roses, but also have the sweet wild ones that grow in abandon in my woods. The honeysuckle I started from just a clipping and now it covers almost all of my fences and anything it can climb on. In the late afternoon and early evening when I am putting the dogs out - I stop and just breath ~ releasing the tension from my body.
I know it may sound silly but I talk to all of my flowers and plants - Yes, and I can be caught, perhaps only by the faeries, but I kiss the sweet precious faces of the glorious purple pansies. Have you ever hugged a tree? If you haven't, you really need to try it. Nature offers us such wonderful gifts ~ a tree is full of strength and will willingly share it with you.
I think my love affair with trees began in grade school. We had seen a film that depicted a tree feeling the pain of being cut. I will never forget the meter that measured the sound of the tree as it screamed in pain. Needless to say, I am a tree lover and it hurts me when people senselessly chop them down. I have the most wonderful Christmas tree out front, his name is Johnathan and he regularly gets petted and primped. One year, a bad storm took the top from him, but all the loving nurturing I gave him and it has grown back even taller and straighter than before.
Well, it is time for me to take my goat, Little Billy Bahh Bahh out to play with his friend Maybelline the Barnyard Queen. I shall return, unless I get sidetracked by the flowers!
I know it may sound silly but I talk to all of my flowers and plants - Yes, and I can be caught, perhaps only by the faeries, but I kiss the sweet precious faces of the glorious purple pansies. Have you ever hugged a tree? If you haven't, you really need to try it. Nature offers us such wonderful gifts ~ a tree is full of strength and will willingly share it with you.
I think my love affair with trees began in grade school. We had seen a film that depicted a tree feeling the pain of being cut. I will never forget the meter that measured the sound of the tree as it screamed in pain. Needless to say, I am a tree lover and it hurts me when people senselessly chop them down. I have the most wonderful Christmas tree out front, his name is Johnathan and he regularly gets petted and primped. One year, a bad storm took the top from him, but all the loving nurturing I gave him and it has grown back even taller and straighter than before.
Well, it is time for me to take my goat, Little Billy Bahh Bahh out to play with his friend Maybelline the Barnyard Queen. I shall return, unless I get sidetracked by the flowers!
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The Woods in Deep December
There is a hushed silence to the woods today. Snow is beckoning. You can always tell when it will arrive just by the lack of sounds. It is almost eerie that it has become so quiet. Tiny birds flutter to the feeders, anxiously gathering seeds and chattering among themselves. Squirrels scamper about nervously. The sky is steel gray, the air moist.
I love walking the woods during a snowstorm. All is white and silent, except for the hissing of the snow. One year, I ventured out in a blizzard and found far back in the woods, the white deer huddled down in the snow, nearly invisible to the human eye. They did not concern themselves with me, but rather, rested in silence. I like walking alone then, not caring to talk, just taking in all the beauty around me: the way the snow falls in a slant towards the ground, the hissing sound it makes as it falls, the embrace of the bitter cold, the sight of a blood red cardinal resting on a snow covered tree branch. All is perfect in this whited-out world.
Even more beautiful in the woods, but more trecherous, is the ice storm. The woods become a sparkling shrine of diamond-like wonder. Trees tinkle like prisms on a chandelier. I often wonder what it would be like to live like Thoreau - deliberately - Isolation never seemed to bother him much, he was content with his own company. I think that is what most people fear the most, being alone. I am comfortable with my own company - I can easily entertain myself.
Long winter nights bring the company of books - nothing beats huddling up with a cozy mystery or an old favorite. I am never at a loss for something to read. I have my bookstore inventory in my home - actually my home is filled with books, in boxes, on shelves, stacked on the floor next to the bed - any nook and cranny where a book will fit will do.
I love being a bookseller as well as a book reviewer. It makes me pleased to know that I have reunited someone with a favorite book from their past. The hard part of being a bookseller is deciding what you will sell and what you will keep - I do covet my books - I love the hunt for them also. I never pay much for the books that I sell. Thrift shops and yard sales, Goodwill stores and curb-side finds. Books are everywhere! Hummm, my best find was a book, The Memoirs of Harry Truman - bought at a thrift shop for twenty cents that I sold on Ebay for over $350 - now that is a profit. Right now on Ebay there is an L.M. Montgomery 1st edition of Anne of Green Gables that is up to $14,000 - oh, how I wish I would find that book (although I would never have the heart to sell it!)
As a child I became enarmoured with books - I loved when the "Book Mobile" made its way to our school. I devoured the Weekly Reader and spent my allowance on books & comic books - anyone remember the blonde girl named "Bunny" and her comic books? Somewhere along the line I graduated to magazines. My private collection of childhood books is still missing one book in particular I remember, "Magic Elizabeth" about a little girl and her doll in an old house.
One winter, I read the entire series of Anne of Green Gables - I was totally in love with those books - I was an adult who had never read them as a child. The world of Anne Shirley is one never to be forgotten. The charming style of L.M. Montgomery is never to be equaled. "September slipped by into the gold and crimson graciousness of October" you didn't only read her words, you saw them, felt them - lived them.
Yes, winter is the time for books, and a nice mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream........
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Welcome to the Enchanted Wood
I have finally become a "victim" of blogging - Can it be that at 46 (I think that is how old I am, I forget sometimes when I am having a "Senior" moment) But, alas, my world is special and deserves to be noticed.
Okay - I will start with this - I live in NJ in a very secluded spot. I am on almost an acre that borders my own private forest. So...how did I come up with the name, Enchanted Wood? No, there is no "s" on the end of that - kinda like the Anne of Green Gables" deal with "Anne" spelled with an "e".
My woods have some very special inhabitants - white deer or also known as "Spirit Deer" - no, they are not true albinos, they are considered mutations. But, for the sake of the Beauty of Mother Nature, they are her magnificent creations. There are many of them - they roam my woods and often sleep outside the small cabin my husband built me up on my hill (this is a seperate building from my house, and I also have another small cottage in my backyard). I have heard it said, that anyone who puts his sight upon a "Spirit Deer" would live a gifted life - I can't argue that point. Just being alive and being able to see the beauty of the Mother, my life is truly gifted.
There is one deer that is my special friend, her name is Gloria - she is not completely white, she is what is called a piebald deer. She has a patch of brown on her face. Gloria is the first white deer I had ever seen. That was over ten years ago, and I am still held in awe every time I see her. Do deer actually live that long? Like I said, they are special - She knows her name, and she will look directly at you if you talk to her. She does not run from me, but stands still and listens to me (probably thinking I am nuts most of the time) chatter away and admire her beauty. I am not hunter friendly - and when I have seen strangers nearby, I am not a nice person - lol - gotta protect Mother Nature -she is all we have left.
I live here in the Enchanted Wood with my huband and my furry children. I own a bevy of Cocker spaniels, a German Shepherd, a chocolate Poodle, and a Pembroke Welsh Corgi named "Elly Mae" who is totally all attitude. Cats? By the score - the woods are a favorite dumping ground for the poor creatures. Or could it be the invisible to people sign on my back that reads "Free Food"? I have two miniature horses, Winifred McNikkers and Buddy Boy Blue - Winnie and Buddy, and I have a goat named "Maybelline the Barnyard Queen" Belle, for short. Lets see, have I left out any of my brood? Yes, twenty-odd chickens, including a rooster named "Emeril Lagasse" who is always "kicking it up a notch" in the hen house~ No two-legged children, unless a husband counts :)
Well, this is just my introduction and I have chores to do - too bad John Boy Walton is not handy to help me tonight. Sure is cold out there......
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