16 jan 15 winter surprise

winter day surprise

when I lift cold frame to store

crisp taste of summer

10 jan 15 sunset

sunset from the Ridge House

Like a beautiful sunset, this song by Carrie Newcomer reminds me how many parts of life are beautiful in their simplicity and that pleasure and meaning in life are all around us.  I don't know if it's the sentiments or the deep richness of her voice, but I can't hear this song without getting a catch in my throat.

I Believe

I believe there are some debts that we never can repay
I believe there are some words that you can never unsay
And I don't know a single soul
Who didn't get lost along the way.

I believe in socks and gloves knit out of soft grey wool,
And that there's a place in heaven for those
Who teach in public school.
And I know I get some things right,
But mostly I'm a fool.

I believe in a good strong cup of ginger tea,
And all these shoots and roots will become a tree.
All I know is I can’t help but see
All of this as so very holy.

I believe in jars of jelly put up by careful hands,
I believe most folks are doing about the best they can,
And I know there are some things that I will never understand.

I believe there’s healing in the sound of your voice,
And that a summer tomato is a cause to rejoice,
And that following a song was never really a choice.
Never really.

I believe in a good long letter written on real paper and with real pen,
I believe in the ones I love and know I’ll never see again,
I believe in the kindness of strangers and the comfort of old friends,
And when I close my eyes to sleep at night it’s good to say,
“Amen”

I believe that life is comprised of smiles and sniffles and tears,
And in an old coat that still has another good year,
And I know that I get scared some times
But all I need is here.

I believe in a good strong cup of ginger tea,
And all these shoots and roots will become a tree,
All I know is I can’t help but see
All of this as so very holy,

I believe.

7 dec 14 campbell creek gorge

Extravagaria

Now we will count to twelve

and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,

let's not speak in any language,

let's stop for a second,

and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment

without rush, without engines;

we would all be together

in a sudden strangeness.

If we were not so single-minded

about keeping our lives moving,

and for once could do nothing,

perhaps a huge silence

might interrupt this sadness

of never understanding ourselves

and of threatening ourselves

with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us

as when everything seems dead in winter

and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count up to twelve

and you keep quiet and I will go.

 Pablo Neruda

16 nov 14 campbell creek

This bridge wasn't so great for walking either -- the far end was in the creek.

1 oct 14 golden pond

This lake is very near the highway that I often travel for work meetings.  It's a welcome respite at the end of the day.

I have again come home

through miles of sky

from hours of abstract talk

in the way of modern times

when humans live in their minds

and the world, forgotten, dies

into explanations.

Wendell Berry

an excerpt from 1992

A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997