Monthly Archives: January 2018

The In and Out of Season

20 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by in Nature, The unexpected

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

20180120_165654

It is coffee-o’clock in the afternoon, and I am pondering the things that were on my mind as I walked Auggie just after noon today. With temperatures between 40 and 50, many folks around here are getting their wish for a thaw. As the saying goes, there’s a blessing and a curse in this. The sound of our walk has changed from the quiet whump whump of boots on snow, to the slosh slush of melting ice and snow underfoot. It is actually more difficult to keep my footing in this than it was on solid ice and fluffy snow.

What was beautiful white snow is now poxed with surfacing mud, weed and grass sprigs, and the gazillion tracks and seed shells strewn by grateful birds. The gleam of sunshine over a white field is clouded over today, and today’s 40 felt colder than 10 degrees did on a sunny day.  After a week of putting Auggie and myself into and out of  sweaters, coat, hood, scarf, boots, gloves, and even at times extra layers, plus a leash, well – I’m easing up on the job and thinking I wouldn’t make a good Alaskan!

No, the sounds and sights are not as pleasing to me, but 6 days without mail and the cancelled plans weren’t great either. Oh, I am not complaining. We certainly don’t experience this scenario much around here. I rather enjoyed the quiet time. I felt a purpose in life – keeping the birds fed, checking on my elderly family members, using groceries judiciously and preparing meals that would keep my man happy (smile – I know how old-fashioned that sounds) and keeping the household prepared just incase we lost electricity along the way.

But this isn’t the crux of my thoughts this morning. It was change. I think a lot about that lately. We went overnight from a 60 degree rain to temps in the teens with a layer of ice and several inches of snow.  Likewise, we went from teens back to 50 degrees in less than 24 hours today. My sister says my reaction time emotionally goes from zero to 90 in a moment. We go from stocked shelves and full refrigerator to “whats for dinner?’ in a few days of home cooking. I went from a peaceful moment of “I think I’ll get something out of the freezer” to a mad race for towels, containers, and yells for help. The freezer was off and our food had thawed. I cooked a great deal, gave some away, threw away  even more, and I now have a clean freezer ready to be refilled. I may have cried a tear or two, recalling the work I put into those garden veggies. It’s a small thing really, and I’m over it. But all those huge things that people endure as their seasons change are not coped with so easily. My heart bleeds for them. As I prepare to speak in March at a Ladies Retreat I will be giving a greater portion of thought to this thing we call change. Seasons.  Our seasons within seasons. The beauty and the beast of seasons as they come and go. And especially the Letting Go as we prepare for another!

Enjoy your season, whatever it is. They go by too quickly to miss a moment of each one. In a flash I will be watching for little garden seeds to sprout, bringing more of those vegetables we love. “Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all long-suffering and teaching.” (II Timothy 4:2 NKJV)

“

Winter Ghosts

13 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by in Nature, Reflections

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

20180113_120645

As I sit over a cup of Keurig Peppermint Bark, I am bewitched by the scene through the kitchen window. Snow ghosts, stirred by the gusts of wind, are dancing across the quiet field that once held lush growing soybeans, and a disruptive marestail here and there. The morning sunshine reflected off that frozen pallet is hypnotizing me. I am remembering snowfalls of many years, and I am so thankful for the comforts of home. I hear the laughter and shrieks of children now grown, as they would come inside, leaving their crooked little snowman in the trampled snow of our yard. I remember my brown-eyed boy begging to stay out longer, and our pigtailed girl throwing off the wet mittens and heading for the comfort of our large gas stove. I sigh and pray “thank you” recalling the four-wheel drives into work through ice and snow.

From my childhood, I hear the stomping boots of the rabbit hunters coming in half frozen. Images cross my mind of deserted cedar trees that once held the jewels of Christmas, cast out, bare and lying on snowy banks. I shiver with the ghost of a blizzard my husband and I once drove through to take down a load of dark-fired tobacco from an old one room barn.   I hear an occasional eerie moan of the ghosts from undone plans, as they bring my attention to the present day skeletons still standing in my garden; a stripped sunflower stalk, and tomato vines that cling to the few stakes I never got around to moving. That garden spot is now one with the open field it joins, as if it could never be made a garden again.

A small dry oak leaf scampers across the snow with a life of its own. It looks like the hummingbirds of only a few months ago flitting from one feeder to another. The thoughts of garden and bird almost make me ready for warm weather; but first, I want to enjoy the beauty of this ghostly quiet, peaceful snow day that kind of insulates me from the routine. It is good to be still, and know…and remember the Creator of all this – the snow, the birds, our memories that warm us in the cold days of life – and so much more! Only a blanket of snow can transform a dark stripped landscape into a thing of beauty overnight. “Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” Psalm 46:10

Stay warm friends