There was a bunny out my window when I came home from work, tucked up into a roundish shape in the cool air.
Then he turned
I was continuing on with Watership Down, when it got so tense I couldn't leave it; so I made more progress than I expected to. I've read it before when I first started at the library, but only remembered what tribulations they had, what dangers they faced. Now I'm marveling at the wonderful story-telling ability of Richard Adams.
I put the book down to go turn on the light out back; there was a rabbit out there. I so wanted to say to him, I've been reading Watership Down! But how do I do that? So I watched while he enjoyed the clover with which our yard is plentiful - thankfully - and then hopped away toward the brook. The humid air has blown away in the past few hours. We will make the most of it.
These all look to thee,
to give them their food in due season.
When thou givest to them, they gather it up;
when thou openest thy hand, they are filled with good things.
- Psalm 104: 27, 28
"By sunset the whole party - twenty rabbits all told - had made their way up the length of the beech hanger and reached the warren. They fed among the dew and the long shadows, with twilight already fallen in the fields below. Then they crowded down into the Honeycomb to hear Hazel and Bigwig tell the story of their adventures to those who had waited so eagerly and so long to hear it."
- Watership Down
We've had such beautiful weather this week - so welcome, after the Previous Awful. And the nights are in the fifties lately! Very unusual for July. In this morning's prayers: from Psalm 65 - "the hills are girded with joy". I underlined it. This sort of poetic description just takes you away, doesn't it?
I'm reading The Brothers Karamazov - wish me luck. I expect it'll take me at least a month.
I sat on the front step this evening before sunset and saw two young rabbits frolicking across the street. After a while, they ran back across the road to our back area, I think. But then I noticed two more still across the street, so life continues.
I bought a dress - new - and it came with a scent that I didn't want. It smelled like a fake fragrance you get from some detergents - not appealing. Why? A new dress! Anyway, I knew what to do. I hung it on the clothesline. This was last Saturday. Then we had heavy rain on and off. I left it out. A new dress. It wasn't on sale, by the way, but what are you going to do? I had washed it, but it has only happened once that a smell came out in the wash - not usually. Anyway, I was determined to give the fresh air a chance.
I turned it over every day - I was concerned about fading, but the coloring has a faded effect anyway, so I hoped it wouldn't be anything obviously awful. On Thursday I sniffed it, and - it was ninety nine percent gone, and that was good enough for me.
"O God, in your love, you have sown the Good News of the Gospel in the wilderness of the world and brought it to flower and fruit through the death and Resurrection of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. Grant us the wisdom to recognize your love at work in hiddenness, the faith to trust in your love at work in weakness, the hope to live by your love at work in darkness, that all the world may grow to the fullness of life you offer in the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen"
The pie came out well, I decorated the table with lots of red, white and blue, I made strawberry coconut milk ice cream and we stayed in with the air conditioning. Of course! One has to make the most of things. I wore my latest dress creation - the coolest thing I own.
I was hoping I'd hear some bells ringing if I stuck my head out, but I suppose city dwellers would be more likely - nobody near me was ringing any bells. I would have rung some, if we had any. I even had the idea to dig around for some little Christmas bell decorations, but I stored my ornaments differently this year and have no idea where they are! I would have rung anything if I could have just found it!
We were talking a bit about the founders: what made them persist, what gave them their momentum to shake off the British and start their own government. It's easy to give up, especially when the average person complains in the pub, but that's about all. I did read a book about Samuel Adams where the author gave him credit for never letting go of the idea to throw off British rule; he was constantly talking about it, planting the idea in people's minds. I need to find more books about that.
And after a week of extreme heat, it was barely seventy today, and raining. Cold air was actually blowing in! I'm happy for the creatures - I couldn't tell if anybody was drinking from the little trays I set out with water. The rabbit above was out in the rain for a while today, and didn't mind the wet at all. Maybe the leaves he ate were jucier.
"Nature is no mere gathering of atoms but rather the outward form of God's imagination."
- Sarah Clarkson, Reclaiming Quiet
We are hoping for a break in the humidity - they're talking of thunderstorms.
"It was because Damerosehay did not change that in this chaotic, tumbling, terrifying world it was a place of such comfort."
- from Elizabeth Goudge's The Herb of Grace (1948)
Last week I'd felt the urge to re-read The Bird in the Tree, and now I'm reading this one, the second in the set of three. When I came upon the above sentence, I realized that is why I read certain novels again and again. It's non-fiction that I tend to pick up "new". It seems to me that if a book speaks strongly or deeply to you, there is a reason for it, and it's up to you to pursue that. Get out of it everything you are supposed to, although that makes it sound so much like use, when it's really like a drinking more and more deeply of something nourishing. Hopefully, anyway.
The liturgical year turns and today we are in the feast of Corpus Christi. Our church sits right at a busy intersection, and when it's not raining we go outside after mass and process around the property, stopping at four altars set up along the way. Often it's hot out, and I find it hard to stand in the bright sun but today we are having a really strong wind (which is delightful, I think!) and partly cloudy conditions which kept things comfortable. But as for proper June temperatures - we just don't have them. It should be in the seventies, and it's not, nor is it going to be, according to the forecasts. But I realize I'm often complaining about the weather over here. (sorry)
I made a simple dinner of chicken thighs, marinated in plenty of lemon juice, olive oil, smoked paptrika, garlic, salt and pepper, and baked at a high temp till done. Which took longer than the recipe said, but I don't like slimy chicken. But it was easy, after not falling asleep until two, and getting home from church much later than usual.
After seeing the rabbits often, lately I don't see them at all and I wonder if they've had babies. But there was one in my garden the other day, in one of the beds I'm not using at the moment, eating some weedy stuff. The garden is anything but neat, but if the creatures like it, perhaps it's not a weed
"But Sally did not want to be set free for anything, for it was living itself that she enjoyed. She liked lighting a real fire of logs and fir-cones and toasting bread on an old-fashioned toaster. And she liked the lovely curve of an old staircase and the fun of running up and down it. ... It's my stupid brain, she said to herself. I like the leisurely things, and taking my time about them."
I went to Mass this morning in the city. The cathedral choir sang "If Ye Love Me" by Thomas Tallis. Just beautiful.
This morning I opened the kitchen window - maybe it was seven? From the corner of my eye I saw something run into the drain pipe. I thought it was a bird, and waited for it to come out, but it didn't. I don't know why I thought of a bird - why would a bird go into a pipe? Anyway, I came back soon after, and there was a chipmunk.
Can you tell that he's sitting up inside the cracked opening of the pipe, his little skeletal hands holding the edge? These photos were all taken through the screen, by the way. That "stuff'" near him is debris that always seems near the opening.
He would sit very still, no movement; if I made a noise or if he saw me, he'd scoot back inside the pipe. But not for long. A few times he came out to forage.
For a short while; he was being very cautious. When I left to go to church, Daisy was laying in the windowsill, watching him, tail flicking. And he seemed to be watching her, also.
It really seemed that he was looking up at her. So, contrary to what we usually do, I left the window open even thought I was going out. This was about ten fifteen. I was home at quarter to one, and he was still there! But after the shadows lengthened, I noticed he was gone. Not a good place to live full-time, but we'll see if he comes back another morning.
Meanwhile, last weekend I finally saw a catbird. I didn't hear anything the first day, but surely the trip must be exhausting. It wasn't long before I heard their warbling. They always hang out in the forsythia outside my window, but I've never seen a nest in there, so I'm not sure what they're doing, but they always come back. How amazing the bird journeys are! These apparently fly down to Florida or Cuba.
The purple-leafed plum was blooming a week ago, and it was exciting to see: the first blooming tree. Four days later, it was over! We did have cold weather last week, but maybe it's a short-lived thing anyway - we haven't had that tree long enough for me to remember it's blooming habits. But now the cherry trees are all pink with the crabapples right behind. The grass is emerald, and everything is lush and hopeful.
Random feelings of the heart,
Ravings of a lone exile,
Stranger to the rules of art,
Let me robe in homely style.
- James Kennedy, 18th century
I tend to plan my blogging for the end of the day, but it often happens that I'm tired, or involved in something, or it's too late, or my mind just isn't there - anyway, I need a new routine.
My dress is slowly coming together - the bodice is sewn, the sleeves are on, the skirt is attached. It went over my head easily and I decided I wanted a higher bodice/skirt seam, so I've brought it up an inch. But I won't try it on until tonight - I don't always feel like putting my clothes on and off. I also noticed that the shoulder seams are too low; I mean that ideally, the bodice needs to be trimmed and the sleeves re-attached. I have also considered making two thin tucks along the top of each shoulder area to "bring in" the shoulder seam, without having to do it the long way. I chose the bodice size which I thought would fit me, but it's big. That's okay, but how much will I have to take things in before I have a hard time pulling it over the head? Which is why I didn't line the bodice. I was going to, but realized there might be issues. So, I creep along.
The paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are getting wider, the grass in them is more visible. Water was running into the drains at the supermarket parking lot. It's been a little warmer. There will be more snow tomorrow, but I actually hung something out on the line today! It was very pleasant.
Breathe deep and be renewed by every breath,
Kinned to the keen east wind and cleansing air,
As though the blue itself were blowing through you.
- Malcolm Guite*
I bought some lamb and made Scotch broth today, and I had a very-belated revelation. I always buy the shoulder chops because that what I'm familiar with, and they're cheaper than other cuts. I bought two packages, and by the time I'd cut out all the bones and fat, what was left was a smaller amount than the pile of fat and bones. Is that economical? I had looked at the loin chop package, and noticed it seemed less fatty. l will have to try that next time. I'm making lots of soups this Lent, and am using every good recipe I've got. It's just the thing for this time of year.
*from The Word in the Wilderness
The snow started around or right after seven thirty; it isn't a blizzard yet, but they're saying it's going to be. Right now it's just falling steadily but gently. We threw out some carrots, in case the rabbits came around before the snow, but they didn't.
However, I later realized the storm door was unlocked, and when I locked it, there was one at the head of the driveway, looking for sunflower seeds beneath the snow. There are plenty there. I watched him several minutes, when he suddenly zigzagged into the neighbor's yard, and there he sat, near a pile of brush near the shed. Meanwhile another appeared on the side of the forsythia and just quietly sat for five minutes until he, too, came to look for seed. Then we noticed a third near the feeder where the carrots are, so maybe they will get some after all. Because we will get at least a foot of heavy snow, at times with very low visibility and I have no idea how they manage or what they do in snowstorms.
But there had been a hawk outside a few days ago, so I'm glad to see all three of them, still our little neighbors. But, what do they do? What do squirrels do in blizzards, when the wind gusts to forty five miles per hour? Can they stay in the trees?
Now, they've all converged under the bird feeder, while the snow is only an inch or so deep. Fill up, little friends, because it may be a long while before your next meal!
While I was watching them, I thought of the poem by R.S. Thomas, which was the Lenten meditation for today in Malcolm Guite's The Word in the Wilderness:
"Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,
nor hankering after an imagined past.
It is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush."
Because I was standing there for a while; they weren't moving, so I didn't move, because I wanted to understand how they live.
But anyway, about the storm - we have plenty to eat, things to do and books to read. The town offices are already closed for tomorrow - my coworkers will have a day off.
I hope it won't be too bad.
The Bright Field
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realise* now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
- R.S. Thomas
*realize the way the English spell it, with an "s"
Snow was predicted last night and all day today, and by morning light, everything looked fresh. Then around eight, visibility dropped and the wind was blowing it all around - I wondered if they'd be wrong again about the amounts, but it must have been a squall; it settled back into a light snow and ended mid-afternoon. But it's cold, and windy.
We throw out timothy hay, cracked corn, carrots, peanuts. The mourning doves seemed to like the corn this afternoon.
I'd bought two large plastic bins for organizing the Christmas things, and today I can say it's done - everything is sensibly arranged in the bins and a couple of shoe boxes. Much better than it was, and I feel light as a feather! I'm surprised at how relieved I feel to have that done. By using the bins, I got a lot out of the closet, consolidated a few smaller boxes, and things that I like to group together are stored together - like it should have been all along!
Peter Wohlleben, who wrote The Hidden Life of Trees, also has written The Inner Life of Animals; I just finished it. I liked some parts better than others, but many things were interesting. Here, he explains why moths fly around lights:
"Moths... rely on the moon when they want to fly in a straight line. For example, when the moon is at its height and they want to fly west, all they have to do is keep the moon to their left. But little moths can't tell the difference between the moon and a cozy lamp adding a decorative touch to a garden at night. Now, as the tiny winged wanderer glides past the tulips and the roses, it immediately gets turned around. The brightest light at night must be the moon, mustn't it? And so it tries to keep this new moon to its left, but the lamp is unfortunately not 238,900 miles but only a few yards away. If the moth keeps flying in a straight line, the "moon" appears behind it, and it seems to the moth that it must have flown in a circle. And so the insect pilot corrects its course to the left to, as it thinks, continue flying straight ahead. This makes the "moon" appear on the correct side, but what's really happening is that the moth is flying in circles around the light. The spiraling flight takes the moth ever closer to the light until it finally end up at the center. If the artificial moon is a candle, there's a brief "puff", and the moth's life is snuffed out."
A tufted titmouse sitting under the back awning, working on breaking into his sunflower seed.
The nasturtium bloomed. I was wondering if it would.
The other things on the front steps are in the pink family, so I'll have to figure something out. I have a yellow mum; it is the very end of summer; we'll see.
We had a couple of warmer days this week, with some humidity. By evening of that day, even the cats wouldn't eat until I put the air conditioners on. But today we were back to beautiful, and the sunlight had that golden quality. The light that shines between the leaves shimmered on the living room floor - even Daisy noticed. The days are closing in.
Daisy sleeps in cute positions lately.
These were on different days. But she likes the back of that chair, where she can see outside if the front door is open.
I went out in the garden today and cut all the chives. Now they dry where Daisy can't reach.
It seems like a lot, but they're nice thrown in with scrambled eggs, and they won't last long.
There seems to be only one rabbit left around our property, after so many over the last few years. I have no idea if hawks or owls got some of them, or other predators. I often am running outside near the shrubs where I think some of them lived, chasing away a cat too close to the place. It's terrible. Dianne's fluffy yellow cats come by sometimes, and there's the gray cat who caught the baby bunny a year ago. But there's a third, a dark tabby with legs of a darker fur, and yesterday I caught him going into the bushes where I think they hide - the rabbit was a little way off and the cat didn't see him. I don't think a cat would attack a full-grown rabbit, but I went over there to try and flush him out, and I saw a mound of dried brush, with a hole in the middle of it. A cover for an animal, but I don't know who. I love cats, and I look at Annie and Daisy and know they would also kill for sport. But they're not going to, and these others are roaming around, terrorizing smaller creatures. And I have no idea if the rabbits have just moved on, or what. Why can't they just have peace?
"In God's hand is the soul of every living thing, and the life breath of all mankind."
- Job 12:10
Summer is moving along too fast. I've worked extra a number of times; the heat has kept me in more than I would like - I think, after today, we'll have a break in the hot and humid weather. We haven't even opened the windows the past two nights, but it looks like the upcoming evening temperatures will be down in the sixties - I feel cooler just thinking of it!
There are a few youtube sewing channels I like to follow - these women like to sew all their clothes and they seem to whiz along, so even though I don't, watching them is motivating. My blue linen top just needs the hem binding, and will be done. I realized I've got a lot of blue in my summer wardrobe all of a sudden - oh, well. I think navy suits me pretty well.
I bought a new rug for my bedroom; Daisy is often on it. I came home from work yesterday, and she was there. It's wool - can it be she has an appreciation for quality? :D Annie also likes it, but Daisy is with me more often.
* Coleridge, from Reflections on Having Left a Place of Retirement
"It was a spot which you might aptly call the Valley of Seclusion.......it was a Blessed Place."
A rabbit got into the garden last week. He didn't seem to eat anything we would regret. They seem to find so much among the grass, God bless them. A simple diet is best, isn't it? Then I didn't see any rabbits for a week, until today when there were two baby ones, running around the hedges. So, it continues.
Look what somebody dropped off at the library this week.
I love this story. Look at the cover!
So elegant, with the gold edging. But there's a fragrance, like the previous owner wore perfume and now the book has it. I might just bring it back - I don't fancy having to smell that whenever I read it. Such a disappointment.
I was reading in St. Matthew's gospel, near the beginning, and it said that after the Magi came and asked where the child was who was born king of the Jews, "he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him". I never noticed that before - all Jerusalem was frightened? How interesting.
I picked a handful of beans today and steamed them; my brother can have them with his eggs tomorrow for supper.
"I wish there were more wild, undisturbed places, for both wildlife and for us as humans, and a greater understanding that restoring and appreciating nature meets needs we sometimes forget we have. Under the subtle influence of the hare, my own wants have simplified. To be dependable in love and friendship more than in work. To leave the land in a more natural state than I found it. And to take better care of what is to hand, seeing beauty and value in the ordinary."
- Chloe Dalton, Raising Hare
"We temporarily added another member to the household this week when Hollyberry Red loped onto the terrace with a very wee rabbit. No bigger than a thimble, bright-eyed, incredibly soft, the rabbit was not injured by the sudden trip. The soft mouth of an Irish setter is always a surprise, it is really truly an egg can be retrieved unbroken provided you want to play games with eggs.
Connie was home for the week end and she spent two hours at a stretch with a baby nursing bottle trying to get the tiny thing to take some nourishment. Finally she got down a few drops of warm evaporated milk via a dropper. She kept working every little while.
In four days the small one had developed personality, waggling its ears bravely, putting a paw out, giving great shiny looks when milk was in the offing. He also made small gestures toward fixing the grass up in his shoebox.
By the time we learned from my naturalist-cousin Rob that rabbits have front teeth so designed that they must nurse sideways, so to speak, the baby was doing very well. His will to live was astonishing.
He fitted inside Connie's small palm at first, and then he seemed to begin growing. And then we gave him to a little girl whose rabbit had been run over, partly because she needed a rabbit and partly because it didn't seem practical to raise a rabbit with eight lively cockers and a livelier Irish setter romping around. Jill said everybody would get complexes.
But I hated to see him go. The way this very small, very wild youngling adjusted to circumstances was amazing. Lugged from the nest by a fierce huge creature full of great teeth, dumped in the midst of people, he nevertheless gathered his small forces together and made up his mind to manage."
- Gladys Taber
I just finished the most wonderful book. Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton - do you know of it? A true account of a woman in the English countryside, during the lockdown, who finds a baby hare alone on a path. She passes by again four hours later and it's still there, so she decides to take it home.
When I think back on the books which have made a difference in my life, it's not ever just the story, but how it's told. Galileo's Daughter, The Salt Path, Under the Tuscan Sun, God's Hotel, Fort of Nine Towers - it's always in the telling of it.
This woman focuses the book on the relationship between herself and the leveret (baby hare); she has a life, but it is in the background to this compelling situation which requires much of her time and attention. It's not a tragic story! No tears at the end, although hares and other wild creatures don't live as long as we do. She opened up her life, her home, her mind and her heart to this helpless animal, and she was changed by it. When I was done with the book, I looked around at my life and thought about all the extraneous things here, things I can possibly let go of. Things that would get in the way of allowing such an event to possibly overturn parts of one's life.
Chloe Dalton was the perfect person to have this experience, not only because she writes wonderfully, but because of the way she respected this creature so entirely. If you like animal stories, consider Raising Hare.
"I used to be a stupendous mouse-killer. Our Connecticut mice eat anything at all from my best wooden stirring spoon to a down cushion. They shred everything. But, on the other hand, there is a kind of look in the eye of a frightened mouse that arouses odd feeling in me. The beady, shiny eyes look out, so aware, so desperately aware. The small polished nose quivers. The tiny delicate paws tuck under, for defense."
- Gladys Taber
Have you noticed all the jumping spider videos online? They're popular pets, for the moment. The thing is, they have faces, which of course, changes everything, doesn't it?
There is one that looks like an old man. Rather cute, isn't he? And there's a young woman with several of them; she's made a pleasant habitat and she sings to them. Edelweiss, of all things. Here's another.
What I'm leading up to is - in the living room the other day, at the big window, and a little jumping spider dropped down in front of me. They move fast, and before this I would, as quick as possible, squish it. Spiders, more than anything, creep me out. But now - well, I was actually trying to see if this thing had a face. Too small to tell. But I find I can no longer just kill a spider so cavalierly, a breed of spider that has personality, and a face!! But they move fast. I ran to get a container and a paper, and actually managed to capture it and get it outside. I don't know what will happen next time; if they get away, they just grow bigger. That is a creepy thought, a bigger spider lurking in the house. But then, maybe I'd see the face.
