A Touch of Summer

 

May 2008

Look carefully at

the little basket in the very centre…..

It’s a hummingbirds nest ~

about the size of a tea cup!!

Two tiny beaks reach up, one higher than the other ~ waiting for mom to come home with lunch.

“the daily hummingbird assaults existence with improbability.”

 Ursula K. Le Guin, “No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters”

A Cat's Tale - Cat-versation

 Meow (I’ll keep it sweet just to get her attention.)

What’s up bud? You’ve already had your breakfast.

Me-yowl (You don’t get it - I want more. Hmm..Maybe if I change the subject. I’ll just saunter over to the door, wrap myself around her legs and purr) ........Me-yowl.   Me-e-yowl.

What do you want? You know I’m not taking you outside yet.

(I’ll just stare at her with my big blue-green eyes for a minute. She knows all she has to do is open the door and let me out.)  Meow (I’ll try the sweet thing again. She’s pretty stubborn - or maybe just slow.)

Where did you go? Oh, there you are - sleeping in my best chair. Bored with me? You’re not sleeping! Don’t look at me like that.

(I’ll just go back to sleep for a while. I can’t get anywhere with her - yet.) Purrrrrr, purrrrrr

~~~~~

He moved in only 10 days ago!

So - does this make me a crazy cat lady - already!? 

(p.s. - there's a blanket on the chair now, just for Jet.)

“In ancient times, cats were worshipped as gods: 

they have not forgotten this.”

~ Terry Pratchett, Author

Re-Ordering.....

When all seems out of order

outside our homes, 

inside our heads,

seeing where our feet are

stills any fear or dread.

Are shoes in need of polish?

Or toenails painted red?

Sniffing still air around me, 

is it time for homemade bread?

Few short steps into the sun, 

see hummingbirds out of their beds ~

Look way up to treetops, ebon crows

squawk, finding mates way overhead.

Painting doomsday pictures for 

the world outside or in our heads,

keeps us stuck in overdrive

spinning tires without a tread.

So, listen to what’s deep inside 

our hearts and not our frightened heads.

Choose gratitude and fortitude,

and leave the rest unsaid.

“With all it’s sham, drudgery and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

~ Max Ehrmann, Desiderata: A Poem for a Way of Life

The Magic Pendant ~ A Writing Exercise

Writing from a different exercise today, I have a short story for you. The story title ~ The Magic Pendant ~ is from the same website that I often use. (www.writingexercises.co.uk) However, to change things up a bit for my writer’s brain I went to the Children’s Section under Story Title Ideas. My goal really was to find more creativity with my words. Writing from this section really tasks me to be playful, a task that I quite enjoy. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to photograph the real Magic Pendant so have obtained only a poor imitation of it. Please enjoy:  The Magic Pendant

The Magic Pendant

The magic pendant lay in her hand. Made of burnished gold, with curlicues and diamonds, it should have felt heavy but there was no weight to be felt. Gliandra pushed on a tiny button on the side of the pendant, not knowing what would happen. She jumped ~ just a little ~ when it popped open. Butterflies and hummingbirds flew up, up into the air. She should have been frightened but they glistened with gold and all the colours of the rainbow. Gliandra had been very sad. Her beautiful grandmother, whose hair was as white as a beautiful cloud, whose skin was as soft as Gliandra’s bunny rabbit and whose smile was a brilliant as the golden locket that she held in her hand, had gone from this earth. Gliandra didn’t really know what that meant, but she knew she would not see her again. Especially when her mother, Lady Héloise placed the locket in her small hand. 

‘This is what your grandmother wanted me to give to you, my child. It holds much magic and you are to wear it always close to your heart. Do not open it when others are in the room as there are many who would want to take from you what your grandmother has left to you.’ 

Gliandra heard footsteps coming towards her door. She quickly closed the locket and held it gently in her small hand. The butterflies and hummingbirds had disappeared as quickly as they had come, leaving only a faint scent of lavender behind. The footsteps passed by her room. Gliandra knew, that although her grandmother was gone from this earth, she had never really left the hearts of those who loved her. 

Years later, Gliandra’s grand-daughter, Persephone, stood in a different room and at a different time. She wore the same magic pendant ~ the beautiful gold locket full of butterflies and hummingbirds that only appeared when, alone in her room, Persephone opened it. Her mother, Lady Angelica, had given the locket to her with the same message.

‘This is what your grandmother wanted me to give to you, my child. It holds much magic and you are to wear it always close to your heart. Do not open it when others are in the room as there are many who would want to take from you what your grandmother has left to you.’ 

And so it went. With each generation, the gift of love and memories passed from one to another. Sadness was crumbled and joy remembered. What is your ‘magic locket’?

“The humblest tasks get beautified if loving hands do them.”

Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Pale Flowers

Grasping at the fragile stems

of memories new and old,

Spanish words and phrases

zip through my mind

as a hummingbird zips

pale flower to pale flower ~

then darts away out of sight.

“A language is an exact reflection of the 

character and growth of its speakers.”

~ Cesar Chavez

Jewelled Distractions

A change to routine

may only mean a 

change in positioning

from a blank wall

to a window on a world of

hummingbirds, juncos and squirrels

attempting to distract my thoughts

with charming success

until I put pen to paper once more.

“There is never a time when new distractions will not show up; 

we sow them, so several will grow from the same seed.”

~ Seneca

In Hiding

Oh me, Oh my.

Not again!

All the words are there

but distant and evasive.

Some tap, tap in my mind

only stubby stems

ending in dry and empty air.

Some buzz by too quickly

little hummingbirds ~ curious and shy ~ impatiently awaiting 

creativity borne of peace.

“Creativity takes courage.”

~ Henri Matisse

Navigating the Depths

There is a depth to life that runs like a current while we swim thro' waving communities and forests with the tiniest of minnows 

or the grace of dolphins 

as we dive deep, 

skim the surface or 

wade into the waves 

wind currents wrap around mountains and dive deep into valleys while we fly through the skies

like the tiniest hummingbird or as grand as an eagle

wings spanning the depths of moments, space and time

navigating through cloudy and clear skies, forests and grasslands

feeling hope, seeing beauty and singing our songs.

“I go to seek the Great Perhaps.”

~  François Rabelais

Fast As Lightening

Serendipity, like a hummingbird, flits by in a flash

Only hovering briefly to focus and say hello

Wings beating furiously just to hold the moment.

Tiny, fast as lightening and given to curiousity,

Serendipity shows up when least expected.

“Vital lives are about action. 

You can’t feel warmth unless you create it, 

can’t feel delight until you play, 

can’t know serendipity unless you risk.”

~ Joan Erickson, author

 

(Photo only shows on my Facebook page)

Hovercraft

Trust hovers delicately

as a butterfly sipping a flower

not so easily brushed away

by errant gusts of wind

clinging to precious sweetness

having faith in the flower.

Trust hovers delicately

then perches like a hummingbird

despite cold, steady winds

to rest high above the brambles

patiently waiting to fly again

having faith in it’s wings.

“Have enough courage to trust love 

one more time and always one more time.”

~ Maya Angelou

Winging It! ~ 2

‘Aware of all things around…….’  The second letter and line of June 1st’s anagram FAITH. I’ve had many more walks in the last several weeks. Some on windy cloudy days. Some with tiny mists of Island rains. Some in warm sunshine. All of them in the morning, afternoon or evening. I have watched the city rush by from buses taking me to or from home. Trips to work, to meet with friends or to get groceries. I’ve been fascinated by trees of many varieties, complemented by low growing shrubs, the jigsaw puzzle of stone walls edged with moss and spots of flowers, all lining the asphalt city streets. Most fascinating to me are the urban wildlife - brazen squirrels, crows, and the occasional deer. Raccoons, with their distinctive waddle and shiny coats, are most common in the evening and tend to avoid busy city streets. Walking from the bus stop last evening, I spotted another citizen of city wildlife feeding on the flowers. On one of these photos you may have difficulty picking it out. It took me about an hour to find it when searching my photos. I had taken five photos, and in only two, could I easily find the little hummingbird. Little wings beating with precision, it was much more intent on feeding than on posing for a quick photo shoot! A great way to come home from work! 

“may my faith always be at the end of the day like 

a hummingbird…returning to its favorite flower.”

 - Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence

Evening Memory Challenge

At the end of the day
recalling the most stunning piece of the day it was the mountains ~
sharp outlines of snow covered crags
blue, blue sky - not a single cloud
deep water barely rippled
a lone gull floating on a whisper of an air current
hummingbirds perched on spindled branches
walking with friends held my time and attention
challenging my memory to paint a different picture
from what is held in the memory of my computer.

“He liked the fragility of those moments suspended in time. 

Those memories whose only function is to leave just a trace in memory.”

~ Chris Marker

Moments that Pass

At the end of an ordinary day
In the quiet of home and hearth
I wondered to myself
About any bright spot in today,
so very tiny that I missed its spark
perched like a hummingbird on the tip of a twig
the twitter and chirp of a fluffed out junco on the branch over my head.

no bravery, no big show
bright spots so easy to miss
but still painted in the corners of memories
~ frayed ribbons and tiny sparkles
of moments that pass as we walk through our days.

“Walk slowly through the world and pay attention.”

~ Marty Rubin

Like a Hummingbird

Inspiration stirs hearts, burning slowly into passion, perching like a tiny hummingbird on the very tip of a thin branch.

Our minds, cramped and crimped with rules and schedules pore over details, shaping inspiration into cold correctness.

When the idea of a need for rules and schedules does not go away ~ even those imagined ~ motivation lags and stalls mid flame.

Yet when a hummingbird takes flight, it is as sudden as a flash of inspiration motivated only by the desire to fly.

“I am always doing things I can’t do, that’s how I get to do them.”

~ Pablo Picasso

Building a Hummingbird

If I were to build a hummingbird

I would use a fleck of gold,

precious metal money’s standard,

from now to days of old

Now fragile body has been moulded,

tiny heart is made to beat.

Human hand will give the power 

to clutch or aviate.

Grasping our dollars tightly,

from fear of want or lack

will hold us back from sharing,

finding joy in giving back.

“The hummingbird competes with the stillness of the air.”

~ Chogyam Trungpa