The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little stardust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(Walden)
a little stardust caught
Tag: pandemic
when summer days are flown
Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whippowil
And Oriole — are done!
For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o’er!
Pray gather me —
Anemone —
Thy flower — forevermore!
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #7)
timelessness and quiet ecstasy
The humidity lowered just a tad on Tuesday morning so we snuck down to the beach for an early morning walk. The only gull out and about was on the rocks, a ring-billed one with his bright yellow legs. He wanted to be friends and walk along with us.
When we went down on the sand he decided to come, too, and lead the way.
Then Tim spotted a butterfly flitting about on the wrack line!
When it moved to the sand I tried to get a shot of it with its wings open.
Yet there are other windows through which we humans can look out into the world around us, windows through which the mystics and the holy men of the East, and the founders of the great world religions, have gazed as they searched for the meaning and purpose of our life on earth, not only in the wondrous beauty of the world, but also in its darkness and ugliness. And those Masters contemplated the truths that they saw, not with their minds only but with their hearts and souls too. From those revelations came the spiritual essence of the great scripitures, the holy books, and the most beautiful mystic poems and writings. That afternoon, it had been as though an unseen hand had drawn back a curtain and, for the briefest moment, I had seen through such a window. In a flash of “outsight” I had known timelessness and quiet ecstasy, sensed a truth of which mainstream science is merely a small fraction. And I knew that the revelation would be with me for the rest of my life, imperfectly remembered yet always within. A source of strength on which I could draw when life seemed harsh or cruel or desperate.
~ Jane Goodall
(Reason for Hope: A Spiritual Journey)
I’d sit on logs like pulpits
listen to the sermon
of sparrows
and find god in Simplicity,
there amongst the dandelion
and thorn
~ Jewel
(A Night Without Armor)
We now have 144 confirmed cases of COVID-19 in our town. Our county (New London) has 1,345 confirmed cases. Of those 4 are still in the hospital and 102 have lost their lives. I fret over the figures coming out of North Carolina and Georgia, where my children live. Stay safe and take care…
wordless wednesday
after dinner light
by Sophie Gengembre Anderson
Morning — is the place for Dew —
Corn — is made at Noon —
After dinner light — for flowers —
Dukes — for setting sun!
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #223)
tropical storm warning
Tropical Storm Fay moving northward east of the North Carolina coast. Expected to bring heavy rainfall and gusty winds to portions of the Mid-Atlantic coast and Southern New England.
~ National Hurricane Center
Looks like tomorrow might be an exciting day! Keeping our eyes on the path of this one. It’s been four years since we’ve had a tropical storm, eight years since we’ve had a hurricane. I hope this isn’t the start of a busy season.
the muggies are back
Connecticut College Arboretum, New London, Connecticut
After all my kvetching on the last post a lovely day followed and we grabbed the opportunity for another early morning walk. Having visited the arboretum in early May and early June, we decided to see what might be blooming in early July. Fewer flowers but a lot more greenery.
The local weather forecaster has announced that “the muggies are back.” Dewpoints in the 70s! Tropical air is upon us and we might get a tropical depression storm Friday and Saturday. So glad we grabbed this walk when we had the chance. Enjoy!
The Bee is not afraid of me.
I know the Butterfly —
The pretty people in the Woods
Receive me cordially —
The Brooks laugh louder
When I come —
The Breezes madder play;
Where mine eye thy silver mists,
Wherefore, Oh Summer’s Day?
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #113)
We didn’t see any “pretty people,” but felt the presence of fairies at every turn. No birds, except for one catbird who was so busy he was out of sight before I thought to try and get its picture.
O sweet the dropping eve, the blush of morn,
The starlit sky, the rustling fields of corn,
The soft airs blowing from the freshening seas,
The sunflecked shadow of the stately trees,
The mellow thunder and the lulling rain,
The warm, delicious, happy summer rain,
When the grass brightens and the days grow long,
And little birds break out in rippling song!
~ Celia Thaxter
(Compensation)
Please note: I haven’t posted any pandemic statistics since June 17 because many have said dwelling on the numbers produces anxiety. But for me it has the opposite effect. The numbers are a picture of the reality which keeps my imagination from running wild and panicking. I like to know what I’m up against and how best to proceed. And lately I’ve been struggling to cope with my fears. Maybe it’s because I stopped paying attention to the facts. So when I record the latest statistics in my posts, at the end sometimes, please don’t feel obliged to read them. They’re mainly for my own sanity!
We now have 135 confirmed cases of COVID-19 in our town. Our county (New London) has 1,304 confirmed cases. Of those 1 is still in the hospital and 102 have lost their lives. The last number (102) hasn’t changed since June 17, so our county hasn’t had any deaths in weeks. One thing that reminded me to start checking the statistics again is that on Tuesday, on the local news, they announced that Connecticut had its first day ever with no COVID-19 deaths reported state-wide. Our governor has a well-deserved 78% approval rating. He recently decided that bars will not be opening on July 20 even though we’re doing well. He cited what’s been happening in other states when they open their bars. I am grateful for his leadership.
inhale courage
Our friend spotted this encouraging message left on a stone in the woods while taking a nature walk with his family. Taking the suggestion to heart, I’m going to use it in my yoga practice, because I’ve noticed that my anxiety level has been increasing as rates of new COVID-19 infections have been skyrocketing around the country. Even though Connecticut is doing relatively well it’s probably only a matter of time before we get another surge here as people are relaxing and letting their guard down.
We are taking fewer walks these days now that the humidity is too oppressive for Tim. We have to be careful not to stress his heart. And honestly, I cannot bear the humidity, either, although I have no legitimate medical excuse to offer. So I am spending more time on yoga, and ordered another DVD to mix things up a bit. The air-conditioning is on now, and I am grateful that we got through June without needing it. I’m already longing for the cool, crisp days of autumn.
I’ve done all 19 of my jigsaw puzzles, some of them twice, since the pandemic started. I’ve tried ordering some more but most places are sold out and the available ones aren’t that appealing. So I’m starting to do them over, which I don’t mind at all. Perhaps I will make use of my mask to keep from inhaling the dust and start going through the old family stuff again. Seems like a productive way to pass the time… Breathe…
under the marsh elder
sitting on the grass
under the marsh elder a
meadow vole scolds me
~ Barbara Rodgers
(By the Sea)
Last week my sister had an encounter with a cute little meadow vole. She’s not a photographer but she’s an excellent storyteller. When she told me the pithy tale I unexpectedly felt inspired to write a haiku.
I used to write about one a year but looking back on the “haiku” tag I discovered I haven’t written one in four years! Hmmmm, wonder what happened four years ago?