Tis the merry month of May, and the merry moon of May beams down on those of us who are weary of this years much too long winter . The leaves are sweet retuning and the blooms are abundant, the petals of apple blossoms flutter down like rain and the air is thick with the fragance of lilacs.
~~Farmers Almanac
Sometimes called the Milk moon, or the Flower Moon, this months full moon is a bit closer to earth than usual and will appear larger as it hangs in the night sky. The moon often appears larger when it is nearer the horizon also.
Bright Moon,
Budding Moon, Fish Moon, Flowering Moon, Frog Moon, Green Leaf Moon, Idle Moon, Leaf Dancing Moon, Lily of the Valley Moon, Moon
To Plant, Old Woman Moon, Panther
Moon, Peony Moon, Planting Moon,
Seeds Moon,
Strawberry Moon, Wind Moon.
Each night, I take time to watch the waxing gibbous moon, grow fuller. One night I was sittng on the back steps and enjoying the the chorus of birdsong as it slowly dissolved into a chorus of peepers, little frogs who seem to appear and disappear
mysteriously each year. As the sky turned a milky blue the moon appeared and disappeared behind the thin clouds. The trees have leafed out and form a curtain that the moons light cannot penetrate. So I will not be able to see how large the moon will appear when it first rises, The breeze picked up and I could smell the lilacs, though only the white lilacs were visible in the gathering dark , a peacefulness has settled over the woods and gardens, a pause between the harsh cold labors of winter and the fevered activity of Summer.
OH, merry,gentle,full moon of May
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Saturday, May 18, 2013
happy birthday, Pete Seeger, and thanks!
Friday, May 17, 2013
summer was usually too short
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| http://www.etsy.com/shop/AndSoForth Waiting, I was waiting so patiently or may-be not so patiently for that first day it was warm enough to sunbathe, warm enough, and not too hot. I would stretch out on an old frame cot and soak up the rays. It was a time when sunbathing was still considered a healthy pastime. and the warmth of the sun felt so good. It was as if the sun was imparting it's special powers to me and as I basked in old Sols warm glow, I drifted off, the back yard became my "beach" for the summer. |
Monday, May 13, 2013
my Mother's Day gift
Bright and early, a young man showed up to till up a part of my lawn. He unloaded his tiller, from an old Jeep truck and set to work, and in awhile he was done, I paid him twenty dollars as he loaded his tiller back onto his truck, I thanked him and he said "See you next year!"
I walked out to the edge of the freshly turned earth, I was very excited, I couldn't wait to have a real garden, to have my fill of fresh produce. somewhere in the depths of my soul, I knew I was finally home.
That was 30 years ago, and the garden is 3 times as large as it was then, spaded up twice a year and I now own tillers. I have put up countless jars of produce and spent numerous fall evening covering tomato and pepper plants hoping to get just a few more vegetables to ripen. Some years there were more tomatoes than I had jars for and some years, I had to buy tomatoes for the table. Green beans so plentiful that people would see me and say "Run, she might have green beans!" Even a year when there were not enough zucchini. and too many gourds. Over time favorite varieties have disappeared and I have just given up on growing things like basil and okra, the deer and rabbits have grown scare, but still a few find their way into my garden each year. One thing is certain that no year ever turned out like I planned it too.
The seasons turned before me, each day there was something new, subtle changes. Each day a new canvas, a new birdsong, new thoughts wandered in and out of my mind. The peaceful turning of the earth and the drifting clouds were a gentle silence that surrounded my imagination and my worries, and opened the secrets of my heart and my world to me.
People also wandered in and out of my garden, a rich library of stories, wit and wisdom got swapped over my garden fence. Leaning on my shovel, and listening.
The ground itself yielded tiny treasure, beads, coins, marbles, broken crockery, all manner of everyday things. My son had an area where he played with his plastic dinosaurs and hot wheels.
Then of course there were the giant Halloween pumpkins and the cool crisp cucumbers, tomatoes sweet and ripe and still warm from the sun. freshly dug potatoes, and strawberries. Weeds, squash vine borers, storm winds that broke or knocked down plants, late frost and early frosts, all of which made me glad I wasn't dependant on my garden for food for my body as much as food for my soul.
I walked out to the edge of the freshly turned earth, I was very excited, I couldn't wait to have a real garden, to have my fill of fresh produce. somewhere in the depths of my soul, I knew I was finally home.
That was 30 years ago, and the garden is 3 times as large as it was then, spaded up twice a year and I now own tillers. I have put up countless jars of produce and spent numerous fall evening covering tomato and pepper plants hoping to get just a few more vegetables to ripen. Some years there were more tomatoes than I had jars for and some years, I had to buy tomatoes for the table. Green beans so plentiful that people would see me and say "Run, she might have green beans!" Even a year when there were not enough zucchini. and too many gourds. Over time favorite varieties have disappeared and I have just given up on growing things like basil and okra, the deer and rabbits have grown scare, but still a few find their way into my garden each year. One thing is certain that no year ever turned out like I planned it too.The seasons turned before me, each day there was something new, subtle changes. Each day a new canvas, a new birdsong, new thoughts wandered in and out of my mind. The peaceful turning of the earth and the drifting clouds were a gentle silence that surrounded my imagination and my worries, and opened the secrets of my heart and my world to me.
People also wandered in and out of my garden, a rich library of stories, wit and wisdom got swapped over my garden fence. Leaning on my shovel, and listening.
The ground itself yielded tiny treasure, beads, coins, marbles, broken crockery, all manner of everyday things. My son had an area where he played with his plastic dinosaurs and hot wheels.
Then of course there were the giant Halloween pumpkins and the cool crisp cucumbers, tomatoes sweet and ripe and still warm from the sun. freshly dug potatoes, and strawberries. Weeds, squash vine borers, storm winds that broke or knocked down plants, late frost and early frosts, all of which made me glad I wasn't dependant on my garden for food for my body as much as food for my soul.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Beacons
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| Richard Drew Associated Press |
Sunday, April 21, 2013
remembering a tree on Earth Day
Among the everyday miracles in this world are trees, silent giants that are witness to many lifetimes, many sunrises, sunsets and full moons. The tree planted when a home is new will shelter it, and it's inhabitants, be a witness to the change and challenges of their lives, and sometimes even be the only reminder that there was once a home there. A tree can hold a place in a person life, history and even heart.
And to cut them down for no good reason is a crime against the earth. But when a the tree is so damaged or rotted that it has become a hazard, there is is often no good option.
During the depression years it was popular for people to plant Norway Spruce, or so i have been told, and they were handed out by some government agencies for free. This double trunked tree had weather ed many storms, even Hurricane Sandy, but it was finally brought down by the chain that held had been used to chain it's two trunks together. Unnoticed for so many years until the tree had grown around it and and seriously weekend trunks began to twist around the embedded chains some 30 feet above the ground.

My grandfather, father and uncle planted several of these trees on their properties, and most are still standing. Several were planted around my the home I now live in by whoever owned it way back then. Those who originally planted these trees. usually made the mistake of planting them too close together, perhaps they didn't now what towering giants where destined to come from those tiny seedlings.
The thick canopy left little sunlight and less rain filter down to the ground and the massive root system rose slightly above the soil and stones and brick were placed in between them, it made them look like the remains of some medieval village, and made walking much easier. a good place to play knights of King Arthur's round table, or to pretend that you were hunting. and sometime we did hunt, for the Easter eggs hidden in the hollows of the tree. and sometimes we hid things in those same hollows, just for safe keeping.
It didn't take us long to learn we could sit under this tree in the rain and not get wet, a good place to sit and eat a peanut butter sandwich on a rainy Saturday, when the grown-ups were all indoors talking about grown up stuff. The air always smelled so fresh under that tree and you could look up through the branches and watch the clouds on a hot day, because it was always cool and refreshing there.
Those raised roots and and an old old umbrella were all that was needed to walk across a tightrope high above the cheering crowds, and when my clumsy self was covered with sticky pitch, bumps, bruises and scuffs from death defying falls to the net of needs and pine cones far below me, it was a good place to look at pictures in a magazine and recover. Or read a book. I have vague memories of thinking, upon hearing the story in Kindergarten, that that was the Tree that the tiger chased Sambo around and around until he turned into butter.
Even though I knew butter didn't come from melted tigers. And noted that in class.
The trunks were used for fuel in an outdoor wood furnace, it is very unsafe to use it for fuel in an indoor wood stove. the rest chipped and shredded with soon return to the the earth. The stump remains and will for many years a really good place to put pots of flowers. The memories, i hope never fade.
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