"If you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be" ~Joseph Campbell
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee One clover, and a bee, and reverie The reverie alone will do if bees are few Emily Dickinson~
Only She Who Sees
"Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God, But only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round and pick blackberries." — Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high ~William Goldman
I SAY ...
I say sit beneath the trees while the breeze blows. Smell their spring boutonniere. Gather their colorful leaves into blithe bouquets. Eavesdrop on them at dawn and dusk.
His trees are potted in the soil Random flowers bloom His garden A footstool ready made will do To stop and rest at random The mountain rock foundation Will hold Him well and fine A Wild Man in heart and deed At home in Nature divine
Always in my heart, always in my mind~
"I Say Look At the Trees" ~ Edna O'Brien
Their words hang in the sky ready to drop down like leaves. ~Bookish
Anne's Haunted Wood (click for more "Anne" posts)
My name is written there. The trees greet me as friends. I tell the wind my secrets ~Bookishkind
Faerie's Breath - gathered on the wind
"If I do not stop to grasp the beauty before me, My soul will wither and die"
She the winter tree, Draped in a blanket of snow and ready for the winter sleep, Memorizes days gone by, So her dreams are filled with them, Until she wakes again ~ BookishKind
The Land of Shalott - Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver
Photo by Iris Compiet
Moors in the Sky
I Am Emily
Photo by Elizabeth Baverstock
Brokenness - Heaven knows I live and breathe it, It doesn't hasten, it only stays
I realized the greatest way for me to exist was to just live as a broken person ~ Ashley Cleveland
The wonder of the eyes and the soul, starts with gazing, seeking, looking, and we look from somewhere
"The answers are blowin in the wind"
Beauty seems to follow peace around like a little sister ~ bookishkind
A wise old soul
Photo by Juan Pixeleta
Photo by Kay Nielsen
"Now I'm on my way I'll be there someday With God's help I'll become myself I'll become myself God hovers over chaos He hovers over me He makes all things beautiful And it's beautiful to see I'll get there someday With God's help I'll become myself" (Susan Ashton, Thief)
I am a warrior of quiet ~ Brooke Schmidt
Autumn is kindling for the starving soul
Birds wear no shoes So neither will I
"God says to the sun every morning Shine again, shine again, And to the moon every evening, Do it again, do it again" ~ We are no different, we must keep trying again and again, even when we fail ~ especially when we fail ~
is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's
hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation
from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit."
The backyard lilacs have already begun fading. Their lifespan is so short yet so perfect with their lush perfume and bright lavender flowers. Before they faded, I was able to get some pictures of their simple and timeless beauty.
This time next year, I will watch for them before they go quietly into the sunset of another spring.
Happily, other things in the yard are not as short lived. But you still have to step outdoors or you'll miss them. For instance, lately we have received an early morning visit from a kitty called Dewey (after the Dewey Decimal System). One of his humans is a librarian which explains the name. He is still a little bit shy and not ready to come down from his fence perch when we are outside, but I am hoping he will eventually.
The winds also carry on as if by cue, and today pigeons were seen flying overhead in the wild skies, which is a first time occurrence around here, at least for me.
As much as I love the backyard though, I am itching to venture out a little when June gets here. So hopefully I'll have a little adventure to share about sometime soon. Keep in mind that I said little adventure, ...it won't be the Redwood Forest or anything like that, unfortunately. But it's time to seek out some different skies for a little while. Who knows what it will be, even I don't right now. I will find something perfect and share when I can.
Give me spring and give me wind.
A few days ago was a perfect spring wind, almost warm in the sunshine.
This spring wind brought out two hawks from the tall trees just like they always do, hawks that like to play in the windy currents, ... and one calls to the other to say they have found the prime spot to ride the wind, the other answers by calling and joining his partner, ...all just over my head and so close that I can see their feathered patterns and hear each call they make, ...ten shrill calls to each other, five each back and forth sounding exactly the same as the one before, and lovely to my listening ears. I wish I could join both of them in their thrilling dives and soaring dances that they leave their nests for each time the wind blows hard.
Spring winds bring me out of the house too, there is no way to resist them. The tall trees seem to join hands in dancing to the windy display...
those cut out paper people who hold paper hands...,
...still trees, but in a
different form of paper trees,
...holding hands in a dance for the
My breath is caught up with the gusts that are impossible to walk away from, and I find myself glued to the backyard watching the sky like a movie, eyes drawn to each new scene that plays before me. This spring wind display happens off and on for a good fortnight falling somewhere in the days of May and June, and there is nothing like it.
Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite books and the family of Elizabeth Bennet is so true to life. Jane Austen knew people and how they work and she knew how to spin a yarn very well, indeed.
Today I was thinking of the Bennet sisters -- Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Lydia, and Kitty -- and how different they are. Jane and Elizabeth use their time wisely and learn well, they make themselves "handsome women" in the sense of what they accomplish and become. Mary strives to be like her elder sisters, well accomplished and informed, but she misses the mark because she has no room to be sensible and thoughtful in the moment. Lydia is hopeless and has not become who she could be, while Kitty aimlessly follows Lydia around and copies her behavior.
I wonder which sister would be my model were I to look at this carefully and objectively. I have bits of them all if I am to be honest, and I am not sure how I feel about it. I know I can do better with my time, of course we all can. It is far too easy to sit at the computer and stay idle when there are a million other things you could be doing, things that are far more valuable.
Where have all of the accomplished arts gone to in this fast paced world that finds us rarely having time like the ladies of old did, ...devouring a book for hours, baking something from scratch, needlepoint, drawing, art, taking walks and thinking long and thoughtfully with your head, about life and its meaning.
It can be a crazy time to live in, and it's not going to be simple or accomplished unless we make it so for us, ...we live in a time that doesn't demand for us to bake a cake from scratch or draw sketches of family to remember them. We don't have to whip up tea and scones for company dropping by for a chat, or write long letters to relatives who are far away. There are not dresses to be made by hand or needlework sitting at the wayside begging to be worked on. But we can use our time to become really really great at something and maybe even two or three somethings, rather than being idle like Lydia and Kitty.
Which sister am I destined to become, whether Kitty, Lydia, Mary, Elizabeth, or Jane is entirely up to me - that is the beauty of it.
What would Jane do? Indeed, we already know the answer to that question.
Your woods flow a constant stream of beauty, pull up the hearth ~
Reverie & Rain
We are kindred spirits, ragamuffin souls looking for answers
And sometimes we find others who are on this same journey and we know, they are kindred to us, they are broken like us, and we walk together and learn
I will never tire of the wind, be it a cold winter blast that takes me off guard with it's bitterness, or an exhilarating spring or fall tempest that sweeps me away. I get caught up in it every time, ...it's as if the wind is calling my name to come out and play. The trees become my cohorts, ...those gentle giants that sway back and forth with delight, as they gracefully bend to and fro - they get caught up every time, too, and are surely clapping their hands in mirth. In these moments, I am a beautiful bird who was made for nothing more than ascending to the heights where the currents await me. Joy.
Words are meant to be woven together like a beautiful tapestry, one stitch at a time. If the stitch is not put in properly, it must be undone and tried again. ~Bookishkind
Reading is elegance at its best
...The gathered words are the ones I like best. ~Bookishkind
The Best Books
updated May 2016
"If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do things worth writing." Benjamin Franklin
The soul requires time amongst the wildflowers, to hear what they are whispering to the wind. Their stillness speaks a thousand words. ~Bookishkind
I was born in the wrong era!
We collect the books we love, like a lover picking roses for his beloved ~ We absorb the words and lines, like the lover breathes the fragrance of the petals, and revels in the beauty of the delicate form~ We rest the books on the shelf with care, like we fasten the flower up to dry, to remember and cherish the memories that are culled from the experience
Sometimes the words whisper freely to you and you can't write them down fast enough... and sometimes you wait and wait for them to arrive
I want to walk in bluebells, the way some people walk in Memphis
A river is always there yet the water flowing through it is never the same water because it cannot be still. How mesmerizing and captivating a concept. Always shaping, on the move, constantly widening or deepening, coursing its way through land, or ploughing a valley of bold creation. ~Corey Hart
Refreshing raindrops descend to soak the land into green, falling from Love. Shared and surrendered to the open sky, to fall on creation, which craves drenching in the heavenly display.
There's a fine art gallery hung up in the sky
For the beauty of the earth
Wanderers- I don't understand these youth who come straight out of the pocket, And know right where they are heading. I only know how to obey the call of the wanderers, Who don't even know they've been wandering, And have only now reached the shore. Their story is deeper, though harder, stronger, though longer. It weaves and strays onto paths that take years to untangle from, Still, it has them where they are today. They have bloomed, though lately. ~Copyright 2011, Bookish Kind
"While I walk the clay, I'm going to steal some earthly beauty. Tuck it away deep in my heart. When the time comes, I'll sneak it into heaven. Some things can't be given up when you cross the stars."
"Noticing fireflies with new eyes tonight. How miraculous is a tiny insect that lights up the low ground and high spaces of the trees- just as stars begin to light up the sky -- passing the baton in a wildly creative dance! God is everywhere. He will not allow a millisecond of darkness." ~Bonnie Keen
Wind is God's gift for those of us who fly (copyright bookishkind 2013)
Wind From the Sea
by Andrew Wyeth
Why on earth would anyone want a windbreaker? I want to feel every last bit of it.
Wind Has A Temper
The trees announce the wind's arrival before she comes in the room. You hear the arrival before her entrance. Stillness is replaced with a rustling gesture replaced with tempestousness. Apparently, wind has a temper.
The Rain She Loved
"The rain she loved, Because she got to use Her umbrella" - by Painting The Moon
Speak Silent Words Quietly
the tiny voice inside of she, speaks silent words so quietly
And the raven-birds create tension on the quiet-branches, That draws my impatient-eye to them. Seeking change I congregate with them, a respite from the bitter-cold. The lifeless-branch moves, and I cannot look away, .....I will not look-away
It's either insomnia or there are beautiful things running around inside of your head.
London A Day or So Ago
(Posts about London)
I belong to the Church
Photo by Ann Torrence
Where You'll Find Me
It's my contention that there is no sincere path a human being can take without breaking his or her heart...so it can be a lovely, merciful thing to think, 'Actually, there is no path I can take without having my heart broken, so why not get on with it and stop wanting these extra-special circumstances which stop me from doing something courageous?' David Whyte