"It is a comfortable thought that we have so much wildlife around us. For as houses go up along the country roads more and more, the wild ones tend to fall back into the forest.
...a pair of young rabbits playing on the lawn on a dewy morning is a charming sight. They spring so lightly in the air, their long ears quiver, they look like creatures out of an ancient fairy tale."
- Gladys Taber
When I'm not too tired, I go out after dark (a little after nine), and look for the fireflies. This is their time, the peak of firefly season. I stand on the bridge and look to the left; I see flashes of light here, there, near, a way off; I turn right and they are flashing among the tall weeds along the brook's edge. I look up and see some in the tree-top and sometimes they come along the grass near my feet. I wonder why I don't get a chair and just sit there for a length of time? But it's hard to burn the candle at both ends at my age.
Like children we stand and stare, watching the field
that twinkles where gold wisps fare to the end
of dusk, as the sudden sphere, ivory shield
aloft, of moon stands clear of the world's far bend.
- from Fireflies, by Fred Chappell
We're in a drier spell right now, except for when there's a thunderstorm, and in hot, humid weather, thunderstorms will occur. What I'm getting at is water in the basement. We have had a couple of instances of it, and it's not from a crack in the foundation but is seeping up from a saturated soil around the house. It wasn't much, but my brother decided to dig a hole outside, let it dry out and then paint it with tar.
When the tar dries, he can fill up the hole and things should be all right. Here he has plywood over the hole, in anticipation of some rain. Last night there was a storm we didn't expect, and while it was thundering and pouring, he realized the hole was uncovered. The other day he scooped out eighteen gallons of water - it's ongoing.
So, the ground is saturated, but the brook is sluggish - figure that out! It's been very hot, but considering the wet weather we've had in past months, is it possible the brook can dry up so easily? It has dried up in late summer many times, in a drought, but not in rainy seasons.
So I put away my green linen dress and am working on a blue lawn skirt. It's a pretty blue - what would I call it? - I don't know, a cool medium/dark shade. I'm usually drawn to prints, and it's strange working with a solid - almost boring, but that's ridiculous.
"When he gave us our air-rifles Atticus wouldn't teach us to shoot. Uncle Jack instructed us in the rudiments thereof; he said Atticus wasn't interested in guns. Atticus said to Jem one day, ' I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you'll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."
- To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
Midsummer Day. We had an early supper: baked salmon, with a topping made of wholegrain mustard, lemon juice and zest, bread crumbs, feta and pepper. Stovetop mac and cheese, and a green salad. A summery meal. After a week of hot and humid days, today was not so hot, and drier. Very welcome.
Lo, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me;
And suddenly there will come to the temple the Lord whom you seek,
And the messenger of the covenant whom you desire.
Yes, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts.
- Malachi 3:1
There's not a plant or flower below,
but makes thy glories known,
And clouds arise, and tempests blow,
by order from thy throne;
While all that borrows life from thee
is ever in thy care,
And everywhere that we can be,
thou, God, art present there.
- Isaac Watts
When you have a garden, you always notice how much more the plants respond to a rainfall, as opposed to the water they get from the hose. After a couple of thunderstorms, I won't have to water for a couple of days, at least.
And I never put on my little wellies without feeling around inside them first - you never know.
There's a bird who seems to sing when it's getting dark. He's the only one singing, and it's nice and loud, very melodious. Tonight, it made me turn to the window and there I saw a peach sky! I knew I wouldn't be able to capture it, so I just sat there, enjoying.
I think I saw our little patient in the garden this morning - at least, it was a small rabbit; there's no way I'll ever get close enough to tell if it's him.
It's very much like summer now. We are going to have days in the nineties for the next five days; they're warning us to be careful. I made dinner early in the day, and that was the smartest thing I did. It didn't heat up the house much, and I had that work behind me.
Somebody just set off something quite loud out my window. It's nine o'clock, and dark. My brother said it sounded like a cherry bomb. It sounded to me right out my window! Well, as long as they don't do it all night.
I am putting the green dress aside - in this weather, it seems heavy. I can't stand the thought of it! I've got some pretty deep blue lawn and I'll choose a skirt pattern for it. Something nice and floaty, I hope.
I discovered a new bread cookbook, and the method is quicker and with a much wetter dough. The loaves are small but I don't care about that. This is something I won't mind doing in summer, if bread is needed.
Have mercy upon us, O God of all, and behold us, and show us the light of thy mercies. And send thy fear upon the nations that have not sought after thee, that they may know that there is no God besides thee, and that they may show forth thy wonders. Lift up thy hand over the strange nations, that they may see thy power. For as thou hast been sanctified in us in their sight, so thou shalt be magnified among them in our presence, that they may know thee, as we also have known thee, that there is no God besides thee, O Lord.
Renew thy signs, and work new miracles. Glorify thy hand, and thy right arm. Hasten the time, and remember the end, that they may declare thy wonderful works.
Gather together all the tribes of Jacob, that they may know that there is no God besides thee, and may declare thy great works, and thou shalt inherit them as from the beginning. Have mercy on thy people, upon whom thy name is invoked; and upon Israel, whom thou hast raised up to be thy firstborn. Have mercy on Jerusalem, the city which thou hast sanctified, the city of thy rest.
Fill Sion with thy unspeakable words, and thy people with thy glory. Give testimony to them that are thy creatures from the beginning, and raise up the prophecies which the former prophets spoke in thy name.
Reward them that patiently wait for thee, that thy prophets may be found faithful, and hear the prayers of thy servants, according to the blessing of Aaron over thy people, and direct us into the way of justice; and let all know that dwell upon the earth, that thou art God the beholder of all ages.
- Sirach 36:1-7, 10, 13-19
Yesterday evening I heard my brother say that the gray cat who wanders around our property (but who I assume must belong somewhere) had caught a small animal. I looked out the window and thought it was too bad, but what can you do when they're running fast and you'd never catch up with them? This is what one thinks, isn't it? But my brother ran out.
I saw the cat turn this way with its prey dangling - I could see that it was too big for a mouse. The cat ran off and my brother was searching the grounds for something; I assumed he looked for the little creature. He walked back to the house, and laid a small rabbit on a beam of wood on the driveway. I assumed it was dead, but he said it wasn't - I didn't know how he knew, but he was rubbing it, perhaps trying to revive it - ? Anyway, he told me to call the emergency animal clinic a couple of towns over, to see if they would take it. He said, "I suppose they'd put it to sleep", and I said, "not if we insist we'll pay - why would they?" * I called; they said they don't take wildlife, but she gave me a website address with all sorts of contact information, so I picked one and began to call, but then he remembered something: he has a client who lives in town and does wildlife rehab, and she even hand feeds rabbits in her yard! She feeds them bananas, in fact! Yes, I guess it's well-known among rabbit enthusiasts that they love bananas. So I held the little one while he drove down to his business to get her phone number and call her.
For a good ten minutes I held a baby rabbit. I saw his little ears, felt his soft fur, held tight while he periodically struggled to get free. He had two areas where the fur had come off, and the bare, raw-ish skin was exposed. There was very little blood. So, I petted him, talked to him, told him I was sorry for the whole business, and tried to avoid touching those bare places, but that was hard - he was little. But he never cried, or made the slightest sound. Then my brother returned.
The lady said to put Vaseline on the skin and try to put the fur back over the areas. Yes, in one of them the fur was still there, just loose; the other part was gone. She said, "Put him in the garden where he may have been born (because they do go in and out of that place), and give him some banana and carrot, and some water, because they tend to get dehydrated. We brought him out, and set him down with the food. He didn't move, of course. We went off, but my brother went back there just a few minutes later and he was nowhere to be seen; he didn't eat the food.
She happened to have a hair appointment today, and she told him that rabbits have fur which will peel off in that way to enable an escape. So, we are hoping this little one will heal over and be all right. Because his family won't help him. He is on his own. She said a grown rabbit will fight a young one over food, so there is no real family feeling.
big rabbit relaxing - not our little friend
But this is their life, and what they're used to, what they expect. But anyway, back to the beginning of the story, when my brother chased the cat, it dropped the rabbit and it darted to and fro. My brother was searching for two sticks, to pick it up with. But that didn't work well, and when he brought it over near the house, it must have fainted for a while. So, that's how he knew it was still alive.
*A few years back, one of Diane's cats somehow got a baby bird on the ground in our front yard. He brought it to this veterinary hospital, and they euthanized it. So this is what he was afraid of, but they must have misunderstood him when he brought it in.
The birds are quieter, the fireflies are increasing and a mockingbird sang a brief concert on the power line. The air gets more humid, but nights are still pleasant; the rabbits are more used to our human noises - there was one out my window yesterday afternoon while my neighbor was mowing nearby!
My little garden crops are getting bigger and there aren't any weeds due to the grass clippings all around.
My dress needs the side seams sewn and then it will look like something. I wake up with the sun in the mornings, but am too tired at the other end of the day.
I want to plan a menu for the longest day of the year, which is next week. It's supposed to be hot. I'll have to take that into consideration.
I was just watching an adult rabbit and a young one grazing in the lawn. Then the baby hopped right through the fence around the garden, and disappeared inside. Maybe he was born in there, as happened a few years ago. Anyway, we'll see.
I have four squares in that area, and plants in only one (weeds in the other four). There are curly parsley, red onions, Italian beans, cabbage and a butternut squash plant. There were two of those but one disappeared shortly after I planted the two. It's quite overgrown in here, especially around the perimeter, where tall grasses are growing. But I saw a rabbit reaching up and eating those, so now I'm almost glad they're there.
To live a contemplative life is to live at depth;
to live below the surface in the world of faith,
the world of reality and not appearances.
- Sister Ruth Burrows, O.C.D.
In between reading more weighty books, I picked up Pat of Silver Bush for a more soothing experience of beautiful scenery, etc.. And I came upon a quote:
"No matter what dreadful things happened at least there were still cats in the world."
But when I re-read something, it's the same passages which pop out at me every time, so I checked my previous posts, and yes, I posted this ten years ago. And there was this picture, too.
Forever in our memories.
Yes. This is an amaryllis growing on our property. I am as surprised as you are; we're in zone six.
And here we are - it bloomed. I can't say I like amaryllis. But it is rather fantastical looking, here in New England. I feel like we should move it to a spot where it will "fit in". But it's a southwest exposure, and near to the house - it wouldn't do better anywhere else.
It rained much of the day - it's pouring now - so I imagine the parades were cancelled. There were no military plane flyovers, which I always look forward to. We still had our little celebration, though. And I've got some Italian bean and butternut squash seedlings.
BIRCHINGTON CHURCHYARD
A lowly hill which overlooks a flat,
Half sea, half country side;
A flat-shored sea of low-voiced creeping tide
Over a chalky weedy mat.
A hill of hillocks, flowery and kept green
Round Crosses raised for hope,
With many-tinted sunsets where the slope
Faces the lingering western sheen.
A lowly hope, a height that is but low,
While Time sets solemnly,
While the tide rises of Eternity,
Silent and neither swift nor slow.
- Christina Rossetti
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watchdogs,
All night awake.
- from "The Fairies" by William Allingham
"The woods and groves around her, that had seemed so friendly... were strangers now. There were no homelights anywhere. Would she ever get home? All Judy's stories, enjoyed and disbelieved at home, became fearfully true here. Those strange little shadows, dark amid the darkness, under the ferns...suppose they were fairies. Judy said if you met a fairy you were never the same again."
- from Pat of Silver Bush, by L.M. Montgomery
The scent of grass as its being mowed. The musical conversation of the catbirds. Going from flannel to muslin nightwear, overnight!
The lawn is a little squishy, but the sun came out and it's going to be full summer for a few days this week. I went out to the garden to spread some compost and grass clippings around but am still not sure if it's ready for plants. But I don't have plants anyhow - I set up the greenhouse nice and early, but never started any seeds in the house - the thought of Daisy getting hold of them made me hesitate and then I was paralyzed. Meanwhile, April winds knocked the greenhouse over twice - good thing it was empty at the time. And all the rain we've been having, and not being sure the raised bed was quite ready - well, looking back I'm actually glad I didn't start the seeds without being certain. I'll just have a late start.
Yesterday was Pentecost. "In our labor, rest most sweet; grateful coolness in the heat." And now the season of Easter is over.
"The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation; from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
He who wants to enter the holiness of the day must first lay down the profanity of clattering commerce, of being yoked to toil. He must go away from the screech of dissonant days, from the nervousness and fury of acquisitiveness and the betrayal in embezzling his own life. He must say farewell to manual work and learn to understand that the world has already been created and will survive without the help of man. Six days a week we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul. The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else. Six days a week we seek to dominate the world, on the seventh day we try to dominate the self."
- The Sabbath, by Abraham Joshua Heschel
I finished C.S. Lewis book. Toward the end, there was a section that seemed so dense and I decided that I didn't have to read every word, but then, looking at the last chapter I felt like reading it.
Jason Baxter speaks of nostalgia as a positive thing: "Lewis was nostalgic for the future." he says. "The old model was not wrong, strictly speaking, but a kind of deep, human subconscious desire for a world that, in some sense, we are meant to occupy, but not yet."
He says, "The experience of nostalgia is a feeling of beauty's remoteness, but only because it is so far in the future, rooted 'deep down things'.* It is hope. And the great thing about true hope, this nostalgia for the future, is that it has none of the irritability, fear, anxiety, and discouragement that flavors many of the words of those who describe the demise of Christendom in our day. We were denied the garden, and then we were exiled from the enchanted cosmos. Now we must own our modernity, But by doing so, we engage in an extraordinary ascesis of the senses. We must move forward and look beyond."
- from The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis
*God's Grandeur
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is smeared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell; the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs -
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
- Gerard Manley Hopkins
I thought Daisy was asleep on my bed, when she suddenly got up and went to the window, obviously seeing something. I looked out - a rabbit. She actually heard a rabbit, eating grass (or whatever). Well, everyone knows rabbits make the earth shake. But really - she heard a rabbit hop in the lawn and eat grass. Amazing.
It rained and stormed yesterday evening, and I saw a rabbit sitting in the rain - they like it, I've noticed, and they like eating the wet grasses. And I like watching them. You knew that.
I'm sorry to say I've made no progress on my dress, as there's been other sewing to attend to. One of them is this pretty blouse.
It has a wide-ish neckline with elastic all around. It's fine when it's on, and it covers my narrow shoulders all right, but it makes me nervous, because if the neckline were to get caught, who knows what would happen? I thought if I made the area stable, it would be better.
I took a double strand of embroidery floss and stitched on the inside all around, into the folds, to inhibit the stretchiness.
You see how I did it, and it was just like basting stitches, but it really reduces any stretching, and the neck is wide enough that I can easily put it on and take it off. So I didn't really sew on the elastic, I just stitched the bunched folds together so they can't open out again.
A friend gave me a Lenten Rose (hellebore) and I want to put it on the north side where I can see it from my window, but the stockade fence there is partly collapsed and we have to decide on if we'll change anything over there first.
From the defining conversation between Tolkien and Lewis:
You look at trees, and call them 'trees', and probably you do not think twice about the word. You call a star a 'star' and think nothing more of it. But you must remember that these words, 'tree', 'star' were names given to these objects by people with very different views than yours. To you, a tree is simply a vegetable organism, a star simply a ball of inanimate matter moving along a mathematical course. But the first men to talk of 'trees' and 'stars' saw things very differently. To them, the world was alive with mythological beings. They saw these stars as living silver, bursting into flame in answer to the eternal music. They saw the sky as a jewelled tent, and the earth as the womb whence all living things have come. To them, the whole creation was myth-woven and elf-patterned.
- The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis, by Jason M. Baxter
the emphasis is mine
I was lying in bed, the sun had just come up, the birds were singing. Suddenly, a whirlwind - no, not the Holy Spirit, Pentecost isn't for another two weeks - came rushing down the hall, up onto the bed; it ran up the length of my body and down again, and out the bed onto the floor. I hardly knew what hit me. But, of course I did know.
You guessed it.
"Through faith we must all learn a kind of Copernican revolution. Copernicus discovered that it was not the sun that went around the earth but that this earth along with the other planets revolved around the sun. We all begin by seeing ourselves as a tiny earth around which all the suns must turn. Faith teaches us to leave this error and to behave like brothers and sisters, joining together with all the others in the round dance of love around the one center that is God. Only if God exists, only if he becomes the center of my life, is this love my neighbor as myself possible. But if he exists, if he becomes my center, then it is also possible to reach this inward freedom of love."
- Pope Benedict XVI
*emphases, mine
A festive chirruping announces the day,
singing in the light of dawn.
Christ spurs on the soul,
inviting us to a rebirth, this day.
Arise from your beds, he urges,
where a feeble languor makes you inert.
Be watchful, chaste, good, and sober;
for I am close to you.
Let us invoke Jesus, aloud,
sorrowing, praying, repentant;
an ardent invocation
keeps a pure heart on the alert.
O Christ, drive away sleep,
break the chains of night,
make good the ancient fault,
bring to us new light.
All of a sudden today, it was summer. When I stepped out this morning, I felt a balminess that surprised me. Annie wasn't much interested in her supper. I decided to wash a window.
The cherry in the front yard is a thing of glory, which is the only way to put it. Filled, absolutely filled with blossoms. I can't believe it, and I looked up what I said about it here last spring. It was struggling last year, but not now!
It was predicted to be in the seventies for the whole week, but you have to keep checking, because they change it. And so they did; it's going to be in the sixties - well, that's more normal. But now I feel warmed up. Things are different.
Almighty, ever-living God,
constantly accomplish the Paschal Mystery within us,
that those you were pleased to make new in Holy Baptism
may, under your protective care, bear much fruit
and come to the joys of life eternal.
My boss sent me a photo of a rabbit, seen in some shrubbery at the library. This is a big deal, because rabbits have been living in the bushes around the building, and they've all been ripped up. We were concerned - well, some of us were. But they are a hardy race, and it seems they just moved over a little.
I finished sewing my cleaning cloths, and now I shouldn't run out for any reason, for quite a while. And I've been shopping around online, looking at fabrics I might want to use for a dress lining. Maybe some broadcloth.
"People talk a lot of ballyhoo about suffering improving you. I should say that what it does is to underline what you were before."
- The Scent of Water, by Eliz. Goudge
"The old way of thinking about the world helped heal the 'tragic dilemma' of being human."
- Jason M. Baxter
We are back to seasonal temperatures, but it was so sunny today it really seemed much warmer - not sure if it was, but it did seem.
I began transferring the pattern markings onto my dress pieces, but I soon realized that what I need is good old-fashioned tracing paper, the colored kind that you use with a tracing wheel. I have my wheels, but I had to order some paper. I was relieved they still make it because it's been ages since I bothered with any. It's coming tomorrow.
My brother was mowing and he found a little rabbit, dead, near the crabapple tree. He has no idea if he caused its demise; he's afraid maybe the mower surprised it and scared it to death, if it was perhaps in a depression under the grass? But would they make a nest so near the road? I don't know how smart they are. I remember when they made a nest in the backyard vegetable garden - that was genius! It's quite possible he had nothing to do with it, but he found a small box - it was a young one - and buried it across the brook where so many others are buried.
And that reminds me - it's Dolly's birthday. I was thinking about what made her so unusual.
Monday we went to the shore to visit a relative. I so enjoyed the ride; the trees are beginning to flower, forsythia is still brightly glowing and everyone is growing daffodils, it seems. It was delightful.
I had a quiet few days this weekend catching up on some painting in the bathroom. I also cut out fabric for a dress.
I was searching online for a linen blend to make the Nepheline blouse, but couldn't settle on anything. Meanwhile, I've had this green for years, and decided to make a dress from it. It's been hanging around too long, and I think it'll suit this pattern.
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With more rain than usual, lawns are being mowed - my brother mowed ours yesterday.
Out my window, I see a neighbor mowed his
and left little piles of grass. Why does it make me think of Monet, and his rolled-up bales of hay?
