The Season

The light of the Season seems to be dimming as all of the hustle and bustle of getting Christmas-ready ends. The gifts we searched for so diligently have been handed out to their recipients, the last cup of Christmas eggnog has been drunk, and the Christmas songs are waning. Yet. There is still some seasonal light left, and I plan on embracing it, stretching it out for as long as I can. That's what makes it so special, that it only comes around once a year. The Season is a gift of memories and feelings that are magnified to over brimming. It truly is the "most wonderful time." I hope you can still feel it's embers as Christmas fades out to the new year.

winter-sunset-christina-meeusen

This Christmas Eve

It rained this Christmas Eve,
You know, 
There wasn't one stray flake of snow,
Falling ever softly down, 
On the cold pale winter ground,
But still, it is the very same,
There's just One Babe,
With Jesus' name,
And I'll remember all my days,
That Christmas Eve has paved the way,
For all mankind to truly know,
Their Savior, Lord, this day born. 

 

Moonwatching

I told the moon watcher, ...your moon is coming,
Heads up to see it rise through the clouds.
A moment later, I realized I was too late,
For it was already illuminating the dark sky,
...But the moon watcher was already watching.

That Time of Day

There's that time of day when it's not daytime or evening, just right on the edge of both. Some call it twilight. In the winter solstice season, (any season, really), that is a magical time of day. There is something about the light and warmth of it, that seems hopeful, calming, and familiar. I kind of like it. Hopefully, I can catch a few more of these magic minutes as winter carries on her way. In those moments, it's like time is standing still, and I like it.

My Little Prayer

Merry Little Christmas ~

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holiday's. In fact, it might just be my very favorite holiday. It's the meal, the memories, being together and pushing back real life for just one day. It's a magical time, a time for being still, reflecting, talking with family, really talking, and maybe more importantly, for listening. It's the opening act of the holiday season. I'm so thankful for it all. Have a Happy One!

Andrew Wyeth

Poetry For the Eyes

A rose by any other name ...

Peonies.

Well, I don't exactly love their name, but I do love them.

Very rose-like, but beautiful on their own.

Poetry for the eyes.

Photo by Flirty Fleurs

We Were the Book

Beloved books,

A great room.

Content, joy.

A spot more dear than life.

We were the book.

(A found poem, gathered at 1 am)

December To February ~ Nature's Reverie

With the changing of the seasons, I adore fall and all it's charms, and I can abide winter if I complain just a little about the cold and ethereal days, ...which do have their charms, but they get to me. As winter approaches, I start to complain to myself that the bitter cold is coming, the birds will soon be gone, the flowers are dying, (except the rose currently blooming in the yard), and on and on. But then I realize that nature needs it's own kind of reverie, just like I do. A lot of it. Like from December to February. And I need to give her that room to restore herself. So while she reveries, I need to find things to keep myself busy, until spring comes and I'm restored to my reverie, in the offerings nature gathered for herself in the bleak winter.

 

Novemberful

thankful, hopeful, graceful, novemberful,

cheerful, wonderful, turkeyful novemberful,

peaceful, grateful, charitible, novemberful,

beautiful, prayerful, autumnful, novemberful.

  

 

To Be A Tree

when i come back,

in my next life,

it won't be as a medieval wife,

it won't be as a rosebush or,

a butterfly, cloud, or kitchen door,

the plan for me, you may forsee

is to come back next as a tree,

a tree is tall and stretches high,

to view the azure colored sky,

 

not only that, you also know,

trees are time travelers,

they've see it all,

they watch and learn, and glory be,

they are so glad to be a tree.

 

 

Standing Rock

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I'm Definitely A Pre Raf Girl

Tuppence A Bag

A few weeks ago, I saw a woman at the store who had 
scooped herself up a large bag of bulk birdseed to give out to her yard birds. My little bird heart leaped for joy knowing 
that her winter birds would be well fed.

It made me laugh, too, because she appeared to be the kind of woman who might also talk to the birds just a bit as she spread the birdseed around. There is nothing wrong with that at all.
 Tuppence a bag. 

Source

A House Where Within

We are now living in

A house where within

Live two darling kittens

One just turned seven 

He is a little bit of heaven

Sweet and soulful almond eyes

Content to sit and gaze at skies

Just wants to be left alone

Sitting quiet as a stone

The other much younger

Just over a year

She will stalk and pounce

And suddenly appear

Her eyes round as the moon

She is growing up way too soon

 
Two darling kittens

A sister and brother

Meant to be here

One for the other

The Autumn Sound

Go, sit upon the lofty hill, And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "The Autumn"

Walkers Walk

source

If you are a walker, then you should walk.

If you are a writer, you should write.

Then why don't I walk and write that much anymore,

Why don't I find time for the things I adore?

There are so many other things that fill up my time,

But I want to make time for the things that make me who I am.

Walkers walk.

Writers write.

Simplify. 

Like Thoreau.

He walked, too. 

Stills, Beauties, and A Beast

 

Beauty and the Beast

 Pocahontis

Rapunzel

Snow White

See the photo shoot here

The Giving Tree

October-Best

We have finally stepped into October. I write as I look out the open window, the wind blowing, the fading sun making it's way west, a cool breeze flowing through the house, and I can hear crinkled and withered leaves blowing along the road. It's divine, all of it. October is best.

Could Be A Postcard

Dear Little Rain

These rainy days I love them so,
Drench me to immersion,
Every drop sinking deep.
Drop down daintily and cold, 
Wet and dreary, At dawn and dusk, 
Till I shiver with exquisite frailness
Dear Little Rain, Love doesn't go far enough

Art by @HoboPeeba

Version #1
These rainy days I love them so,
Drench me in them, 
Every drop soaking, Deep in my soul, 
Drop down daintily, And cold, 
Wet and dreary, At dawn and dusk, 
Dear Little Rain, Love doesn't go far enough

Finding Feathers

I keep finding fallen bird feathers. On one day I found five. different. ones. All of them were white. I heard once that finding one is supposed to mean good luck. Or that angels are nearby.

I like to think the birds left them there for me because they know,

 I love to fly.

Or, the angels are getting my wings ready for flight,

and some of them dropped down from heaven.

Photo by Melanie Beckler

“When angels are near feathers appear”

"White feathers are spiritually tied to angels due to the fact that humans associate angels with wings, usually white ones. Finding a white feather after a loved one has passed away brings a sense of comfort during mourning. White symbolizes purity, and many people believe that finding a white feather is a sign that they are on the right path in life.
In olden times, feathers signified a variety of things. People placed feathers under the pillows of ill family members and loved ones in order to speed up recovery, and feathers were also placed in doorways to keep unwanted visitors from entering the home.
In Native American culture, the appearance of random white feathers signifies rebirth and new beginnings, and feathers are commonly worn on Native American headdresses to symbolize hope and faith as well as to strengthen the connection between the physical and spiritual world." referencedotcom
 

Credit: Jamie Grill The Image Bank Getty Images

Update: I just found another one tonight~

They Know They Are Beautiful

You can see it in their eyes ~ 

they know they are beautiful.

 You can't help but notice

The loveliness they bring

 Every glance, every run,

Every little thing

Spellbound

Andrew Wyeth

The days may not be so bright and balmy—yet the quiet and melancholy that linger around them is fraught with glory. Over everything connected with autumn there lingers some golden spell—some unseen influence that penetrates the soul with its mysterious power. ~Northern Advocate

Whisper

The hills are alive with fall.

My restless being stirs with this small change

That was not there even a week ago.

I look up and see the dreamland coming true

It's only a whisper yet ~ It's only just arrived,

But soon very soon, we will see it thrive

Into Beauty ~

If I could, I would pause its time and beauty,

Hold it - Walk through it - Feel it -

As its whispers grow into full bloom

And howl in my ears what I long to hear

These Were Yours Too

Source

you left us quietly without
so much as a sigh,
just as your way in life
was to be strong and silent,
in death, these were yours too

Meritorious

This is an old dictionary from 1935. 

I'm pretty sure it has words in it that we don't use much anymore ~  like "meritorious"

 

 And that's the reason I've decided to keep it.

It was for sale in my bookshop, but no one bought it, which surprised me because the patina of the book is so pretty.

It really is a gorgeous book. It's worthy of keeping. It's worthy of praise. It's meritorious, in fact.

Reverie is a Word

Reverie is a word that introverts know well. It might as well be called respite. Whatever you call it, I need a lot of it. Those quiet moments, or even hours, where all is still and silent. Thoughts come in and go out as they may, ...some you remember, others drift slowly away.

Reverie is a gift, a way to clear out the cobwebs, to hear your own thoughts you didn't even know existed a moment before, to listen to nature and what it has to say.

Reverie is a time for yourself. It might be a moment or an hour. It might be all you need to recover from the tiring stretches of daily life. It helps you get back out there.

On a day like today my heart is bound a little less
To the tired and tiring vanities of life
Like a butterfly emerging, struggling to be free
I feel the lift, I sense the give it takes
To send me flying from this earthy place

~Christine Dente, Good-Bye~