“Saint Cecilia & An Angel” by Orazio Gentileschi & Giovanni Lanfranco
You see, my dear friend, I am made up of contradictions, and I have reached a very mature age without resting upon anything positive, without having calmed my restless spirit either by religion or philosophy. Undoubtedly I should have gone mad but for music. Music is indeed the most beautiful of all Heaven’s gifts to humanity wandering in the darkness. Alone it calms, enlightens, and stills our souls. It is not the straw to which the drowning man clings; but a true friend, refuge, and comforter, for whose sake life is worth living. ~ Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (Letter to Nadezhda von Meck, November-December, 1877)
I have three poems, he said. Who counts poems? Emily tossed hers in a trunk, I doubt if she counted them, she simply opened another tea bag and wrote a new one. That was right. A good poem should smell of tea. Or of raw earth and freshly cut wood. ~ Olav H. Hauge (The Dream We Carry: Selected & Last Poems of Olav H. Hauge)
It’s 96Ā°F (34Ā°C) out there with a feels like temperature of 102Ā°F (39Ā°C). The weather folks tell us 85Ā°F (29Ā°C) is the average high for this week of September in this part of North Carolina. Sigh… So. Stuck. Inside. (Very grateful for air conditioning!) We’re unpacked and pretty settled now and more than ready to explore the world outside these walls. If only this oppressive heat and humidity would go away.
To help pass the time I’ve started binge watching an off-beat streaming series, Dickinson.
The show takes an unusual approach to depicting its protagonistās coming-of-age in the 1800s: Characters speak in Millennial parlance, the soundtrack is populated with todayās hits, and more often than not scenes resemble fever dreams where whatās figurative in Emilyās poems gets depicted literally. ~ Shirley Li (The Atlantic, December 24, 2021)
At first I thought I might not like it but it drew me in. The costumes and scenery are all 1800s but the language and music is modern. (Except for the words of the poems themselves.) It kind of reminds me of the times we saw Shakespeare-in-the-Park plays performed, twisted in the opposite way, with modern costumes and settings but with the original language intact.
It’s pretty exciting seeing her poems come to life visually.
I’ve also been reading a book of Olav H. Hauge’s poems. (I’ve posted a few of his poems here over the years.) When he mentioned Emily Dickinson in his poem at the top of this post it warmed my heart to know that a Norwegian poet appreciated her poetry, too.
I’m looking forward to the day when it will be cool enough for us to have tea on the porch in our new home!
In the garden the dry rustle of leaves, stirred by the breeze, has taken the place of the insect music of only a month ago. Most of the crickets are gone. The clock of their little lives has run down, never to be rewound. At sunset, the breeze dies. All sounds are low or short or subdued. This is the sundown of the day and the month. It is sundown for the year as well. ~ Edwin Way Teale (Circle of the Seasons: The Journal of a Naturalistās Year)
Friday evening my sister and brother-in-law invited us to go with them to Music in the Meadow, a family-friendly outdoor concert in the Connecticut College Arboretum. We brought our lawn chairs and enjoyed the beautiful weather and setting. After walking through the woods we found a spot for ourselves up on a hill overlooking the lawn where most of the audience was seated.
the mountain laurel was starting to bloom
in the meadow
After we got settled I took a little walk and tried to capture with my camera some of the plants growing in the meadow. Suddenly I spotted an eye, a little bunny was looking at me, frozen in place. I kept my distance and used my zoom lens, delighted with my discovery.
The bunny wasn’t there when I checked back later so I worried about it. But I think, although small and young, it was old enough to be on its own. Phew!
Baby rabbits leave the nest when they’re 3 weeks old and about the size of a chipmunk. If you find a chipmunk-sized but fully-furred rabbit with eyes open, ears erect, and the ability to hop, they are meant to be on their own. As small and helpless as they may look, they are not an orphan and doesn’t need your help. ~ The Humane Society of the United States website
meadows have so many layers and textures
our view from above
Kala Farnham
The first performer was an amazing folk singer-songwriter, Kala Farnham, and the four of us agreed her hour of singing was the highlight of the whole show.
Nestled away in the Quiet Corner of rural Connecticut, a pint-sized songstress set out into the world with one vision: to inspire and heal through the transformative power of music. Decades later, Kala has performed at listening rooms across the country, garnering numerous awards and media attention, including The Rose Garden Performing Songwriter Contest 2019 winner, 2020 Falcon Ridge Folk Festival Grassy Hill Emerging Artist, and Great American Song Contest Finalist. Drawing from a classical education and a professional background in musical theater, Kala presents a hallmark reinvention of the folk tradition. Her passion for fairytales, ancient history, and storytelling draws audiences from around the country into the reinvented worlds of alternate times and places. ~ Kala Farnham website
However, our attention kept being drawn aside to the excitement of lots of children playing on the glacial erratics at the back of the lawn. Their shouts of glee as they darted from stone to stone, climbing and jumping… it was pure joy to see. To be young and that quick and flexible again…
When Kala Farnham was done with her set and The CarLeans were setting up for their hour, I took another little meadow walk. They were good, too, a blend of styles, folk, Cajun, Latin, and Americana.
meadow magic
some other kids discovered this glacial erratic up on our hill
It started getting dark when The CarLeans were done and then Ward Hayden & The Outliers (“a mix of old school country, early rock ‘n’ roll, blues, and country rock”) started setting up. We stayed for one of their songs but then headed for home because we were getting cold and tired — old folks — as my father used to say. It was a wonderful evening.
looking south after sunset
moon magic
the darkening woods behind us
one last look down at the stage
We’ve been busy the past few weeks getting ready for another change in our lives. Tim’s heart disease has progressed to the point where he now needs a pacemaker. He will be having surgery to put it in on Tuesday and will spend one night in the hospital. His cardiologist hopes this will help with his shortness of breath, abnormal fatigue and very low pulse. Time will tell. ā¤ļø
It’s been so long since we’ve listened to live music outdoors! So on Sunday afternoon we made our way through holiday traffic to Mystic Seaport and enjoyed a fantastic two-hour concert by Mama Train. We were happy to be sitting under shade trees.
vocals
Mama Train blends the warmth of rich female vocals with dynamic expressive piano. Their sound embodies the soul of classic jazz and blues artists like Billie Holiday, Annette Hanshaw, and Django Reinhardt. Performing a variety of classic songs from the 1920s to 1950s, this Gatsby-era band delivers soulful melodies and vibrant instrumentation that resonate with every audience, a small act with a big vintage sound! ~ Mama Train website
keyboards
Unfortunately I couldn’t find out the names of the band members but maybe when they become better known that information will become available. They are from Connecticut, though.
bass
drums
I hope we will get a chance to see them again sometime soon!
But May is a month to be enjoyed, not coldly discussed, and enthusiasm should thrill to the very finger-tips of every one who, on the morning of the month’s first day, hears the thrush, grosbeak, oriole, and a host of warblers as they great the rising sun. And rest assured, dear startled reader, that unless you are astir before the sun is fairly above the horizon you will never know what bird-music really is. It is not alone the mingled voices of a dozen sweet songsters; for the melody needs the dewy dawn, the half-opened flowers, the odor-laden breeze that is languid from very sweetness, and a canopy of misty, rosy-tinted cloud, to blend them to a harmonious whole, and so faintly foreshadow what a perfected world may be. ~ Charles Conrad Abbott (Days Out of Doors)
3.31.22 ~ Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center Mystic, Connecticut
While she was visiting last week we finally got a chance to take our granddaughter, age 7, to the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center! She was all set with her camera and water bottle and we played follow the leader as she explored the place at her own pace. Sometimes we struggled to keep up but she was patient with us and we would catch up and so we had a fantastic time. š
Kat playing a bird species memory game with Grandpa
taking pictures
eastern painted turtle
After exploring the indoor exhibits we headed outdoors to see the birds in the rehab enclosures. We even got to see a staff member feed the raptors dead mice. It was difficult getting pictures through the wires but these two were acceptable.
For many decades the Denison Pequotsepos Nature Center has been licensed by the U.S. Department of Fish and Wildlife to care for injured wild animals. We are part of a region-wide network of wildlife specialists that handle emergencies and help seek appropriate care for injured wildlife. ~ DPNC website
Next we followed a trail and spotted a Canada goose sitting on her nest on a hummock in the middle of a pond. Nearby her mate was patrolling the area.
Kat probably took more pictures than I did!
Our minds, as well as our bodies, have need of the out-of-doors. Our spirits, too, need simple things, elemental things, the sun and the wind and the rain, moonlight and starlight, sunrise and mist and mossy forest trails, the perfumes of dawn and the smell of fresh-turned earth and the ancient music of wind among the trees. ~ Edwin Way Teale (Circle of the Seasons: The Journal of a Naturalist’s Year)
moss-covered glacial erratics are always fun to capture
who’s that taking pictures of me?
Kat discovers a meadow
let’s see, which way to go?
time to stop taking pictures and start consulting a map
Kat loves maps
planning our meadow route
reviewing our meadow trek with Grandpa
Kat led us back to the nature center and to the parking lot, checking rocks along the way to find dry ones for Grandpa to sit on for his rests. The occasional benches were welcome, too. She is a very curious, thoughtful and kind little sweetheart.
stone wall and daffodils across the road from the nature center
Here are two posts from the past illustrating Kat’s keen interest in maps: here(5th picture, age 4) and here(2nd picture and others, age 2).
The three of us had such a wonderful morning at the nature center! š
Wonder shining in my eyes Like Iām three years old ~ David Gray ā« (Heart & Soul) ā«
One of the things that has helped me get through this pandemic — besides taking walks with my husband, working on jigsaw puzzles, practicing yoga, video calling with friends and family, blogging — has been listening for hours on end to the music streaming on my favorite indie radio station. Hearing some songs, like David Gray’s Heart & Soul, will forever bring me back to these days. Will it be possible that in the future some of us will look back on this time with a tinge of bittersweet nostalgia?
Boatman, I am a river I am a mountain, to the sea Boatman, taker, and giver Can you deliver for me? And can I forever run free? ~ Livingston Taylor ā« (Boatman) ā«
