Passage

Clocks tick

in quiet or chaos;

between each moment

breath flows in and out

bringing peace and calm

in quiet or chaos.

“Again time elapsed.”

~ Carolyn Keene,

The Secret of the Old Clock

Whether There are Clouds - CALM - Theme for April 2022

Clocks tick…….

Air seems clearer…..

Landing gently…….

Measured steps…….

“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”

~ Confucius

After a month of trying to write about Anger, I found that I really had little to say. Two years of pandemic restrictions did foster regular periods of anger. Struggling against the unfamiliar bonds,  it was a pretty normal response. Then the world exploded with a frightening and unfair war in Europe. Both have given me time to think about where my feet are, what my responsibilities truly are. Compassion for those outside of my sphere of life has never left me. The surprising feeling of calm rejuvenates my life. For today……and hopefully tomorrow…..

The Rabbits Told Me

Summer time fur faded

to winter white early last year.

A sign: 

2021’s coming winter would be cold and long!

Winter white is just now

darkening with patchy brown.

A sign:

2022’s warming spring will be

here before long!

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”

~ Albert Einstein

 

Chapter Two, Episode Seventy-Eight - Boys Again - Situationally Theirs

Boys Again

It was early evening. Samuel was home getting cleaned up. New shirt and jeans. He’d been to town earlier for a haircut, treating himself to a shave too. He hadn’t told Elizabeth. She’d been on him for years to get a professional shave and haircut. He’d always put her off, told her it was a waste of time and money. Now and then he even cut his own hair, or just tied it up. Not this time though. Not with Thom Digby coming home for a visit. Last time he’d seen him was the day he left to go off on his adventures. Thought he’d heard him say he’d only be gone for a couple of years at the most. Here it’d been over forty years! 

As he was locking his front door, he heard two cars come into the yard. Samuel was especially proud of being able to tell cars from vans, vans from trucks; even how many. He  recognized James car, but not the other. It must be his old pal, Thom. 

~~~~~

“Martha, do you think Elizabeth will have everything ready for us? For Thom and Sonja? Is Samuel coming over to eat with us?” To an outsider, James would appear relaxed behind the wheel. Martha knew otherwise. He gripped to steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white, flexing his fingers now and then to ease them. And then asking if Elizabeth would have anything ready?! “Really James. Elizabeth? Not ready when one of her meals is at stake? Of course she’ll have everything ready. She’s probably tapping her foot wondering how late we’re going to be.” Martha laughed at her normally orderly and calm husband. “You’re right, as usual, Martha. I’m just so glad to have Thom home.” 

~~~~~

“Well, Sonja, what do you think of my brother and his wife? You’ve been awfully quiet this trip.” Thom had noticed and just assumed that she was taking in all the new green, so different from the snow covered mountains she was used to. She and Martha seemed to get along, even in the short time they had met. As much as he loved the mountains and the life they had together, when he drove onto the estate, youthful memories flooded his mind. His sight strayed across the yard, almost expecting to see his father waving him in. But it was more than that. He actually could see a familiar figure waving. It couldn’t be. Samuel’s father? No it couldn’t be. Samuel? It was Samuel. Thom rolled down his window and waved back. He laughed at the same time - the three boys were just not boys anymore.

~~~~~

Elizabeth did have their suppers ready, the table all set with the good dishes and silver from upstairs. Even flowers and a table cloth. It made the kitchen quite festive. She tidied her hair and hung up her apron. She wanted to do it all up right for James, knowing that he’d been tied in knots since his brother told him he’d be coming. Expecting Samuel at any time, she put her sweater on and went out the back door just as the two cars parked. Samuel came up to the house at the same time. Car doors opened and shut. Walking past James, Samuel gripped Thom’s hand, looking at him hard in disbelief. They pulled each other into a hug. James joined then and they just looked at each other. Not a word was spoken. 

“Sonja,” Martha whispered. “Sonja, let’s go in the house. I’ll introduce you to Elizabeth, a good friend and the estate cook. The three of us can get to know each other while these three boys get reacquainted.”

Sonja had been feeling quite out of place now that Thom was home. Like a second left shoe. She still had a lump in her heart, but knew she could do nothing for her family in the Ukraine except send them money. She didn’t know if she could be the sociable partner that Thom needed. Or that she would even like these women. Martha seemed very nice, kind, but what about this Elizabeth. She should have stayed home. Thom could have come here himself. When she heard Martha whisper her name, she steeled herself, took a small breath and smiled. Whispering her reply she said “Yes, Martha I would love to meet your friend and leave these three to themselves. I suspect we’ll be eating before they will.” The three men had moved off, walking toward the orchard. James turned back and called out. “Tell Elizabeth we’ll be in soon. There’s just something we need to do first. If you ladies are hungry, please start without us.”

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains 

unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.”

~ Nelson Mandela

 

Steady On - A Victoria Writers Group Exercise

The Funeral Procession
 Painting by Ellis Wilson

 

                 Steady On

Through the ages

They have come ~

Always moving steadily forward

Bearing and keeping their children close

Despite bonds of slavery that chained their ancestors.

“Lord, I’m going to hold steady on to You and You’ve got to see me through.”

~ Harriet Tubman

This poem was from a Victoria Writers Group Exercise: write from a choice of paintings. We were sent a selection of famous paintings by one of our members. The painting I chose was: The Funeral Procession by Ellis Wilson.

I had it scribbled down on a piece of paper I found the other day. No date. However it was a Zoom group, so I believe it was sometime in 2020

On an Afternoon Walk - Impatience!

Puddles on sidewalks!

Sand-filled sidewalks!

When will spring show up!?

When will the sun warm the world?

then the lake stretched ahead

with patchy soft frozen ice.

and the sky filled with

ruffled, drifting clouds

geese calling to each other ~

pairing for new fluffy families

prehistoric looking trees ~ buds held tight

branches bravely bare, stand tall.

Grateful and content ~ I turned toward home

Puddled, sandy sidewalks merely a bother.

“You’re trying to eat grass that isn’t there. 

Why don’t you give it a chance to grow?”

~ Richard Adams, Watership Down

On an Afternoon Walk ~ Wind

Icy wind at my back

like cold fingers 

pushing me forward

in this still new 

life of retirement

learning the ways

and beliefs of

me, myself and I.

As spring arrives and

summer follows ~

seasons change while 

prairie winds blow

warm, hot, or cool

still pushing me forward

learning the ways

and beliefs of 

my renewed community.

“I am still learning.”

~ Michelangelo

**Inspired by this afternoon’s walk in a wintery-spring wind.