March 28, 2017. I’m wrestling with the loss of our tabby a couple weeks back – just when I think I’ve gotten over it, I find myself in tears again. Yesterday I watched the calico sitting in dappled shadows – I drifted deep into meditating on her focus in the moment, pondering her intuitive feline ways of adapting to this loss of companion. I found more questions than answers, but also acceptance that I don’t get to choose when grief resolves.
March 8, 2017. For those who ponder how poems materialize, today’s example (not exactly repeatable, but representative): Morning routines are just that – routine … Sketch begins trancing … Gary pauses on way out the door to describe a scene he’d rather stay home with … I tiptoe to peer at cat and experience a flash of envy … Pen in hand first, I think of camera a little too late … I rely on words to convey the scene.
The image is thus of resulting state rather than feline process of “getting gone”.
February 7, 2017. Still weeks till Spring’s official arrival. But given three definitive signs arriving in the span of mere hours, I am celebrating the distinct possibility that hard freezes are behind us.
The image below is a very startled young possum cowering on a shelf beneath the pet feeder after the Labrador and I discovered him – crouched in the food bowl munching happily, no doubt proud of his discovery of “easy” feeding – a perspective shattered by barking, lunging dog and camera flashes in the face. (Too dark to see the visiting cat but I know well the source of those howls. The robins didn’t stick around to pose.)
December 1, 2016. December rolled in on a cold front – but a clear blue sky made for warmth when properly positioned in line with the Sun. I couldn’t resist, and out I went with my journal. Luckily, I had the camera phone in my pocket to capture the take-over that ensued. Ziggy showed me an even better way to sit in the sun.
October 1, 2016. Five years ago I felt life fly from my hand in an unexpected way. I wrote a poem of witness, posted an image on FB. Today FB presents the image again – reminding me why I capture moments in image and verse. One bird, one poem – worth sharing more than once.
September 22, 2016. This is prime blooming time for Queen’s Wreath aka Coral Vine – affectionately and simply pink vine in my family. I’ve spent many minutes stopped in my tracks admiring and photographing the pink vine these past few weeks. They are a great catalyst to my intentional tendency to slow down and notice what Nature has on display. Our cat Ziggy got into one photo – made me laugh – his intentions at odds with mine.
May 8, 2016. Yesterday, while listening to wisdom about ways to encourage transcendent experiences, I found myself writing this poem in the margin of my notes. One of the suggestions was ritual. My thoughts went immediately to the daily morning routine with our Labrador. Where better to “wake up” than outdoors just before dawn? Ritual happens.