Menemsha Sunset, that is all.
Be well, and enjoy your day!
A friend commented on yesterday’s blog that art sometimes brings music to her thoughts. I smiled a little bit, “cuz as I was downloading these photos, Doris Day started singing, well sort of, I started singing, hoping to sound like Doris.
I thought I sounded wonderful; Diesel started howling, Lexi hid in the bathroom, and Finnegan covered his head.
Richard just asked to be picked up, he thought I must have been in pain or something, I guess.
Here are some of the lyrics in case you want to sing along.
By the light of the silvery moon
I want to spoon
To my honey, I croon love’s tune
Honey moon, keep a-shinin’ in June
Your silvery beams will bring love’s dreams
We’ll be cuddling’ soon (my favorite part)
By the light of the moon.
By the light, not the dark, but the light
Of the silvery moon, not the sun but the moon
I wanna spoon, not croon, but spoon
to my honey I’ll croon love’s tune
Honeymoon, honeymoon, honeymoon
Keep a-shinin’ in June
Your silvery beam will bring love’s dreams
We’ll be cuddling’ soon
By the silvery moon
To be quite honest I only knew about a sentence and a half…I was delighted to hear the cuddling’ part.
Now, back to work I must go; the kale is gathered chopped and frozen, the last of the peas are shucked and frozen, the garden is weeded, a painting is nearly completed, finishing up some of my new obsession, strawberry honey preserves. I’ll share the recipe with you here: strawberry yumminess.
I love the sea, I love a rural landscape. I love quaint village charm.
Martha’s Vineyard is sprinkled lavishly with the irresistable allure of its seafaring past, interwoven with farmsteads, artists, and unpretentious beauty.
This island is not trying to be anything more than it is; leaving aside the germane need tourists may have for t-shirts, arcades, and the stipulation to be regaled, this, this island is honest.
The roads (other than the main highways) are dirt, rutted, and furrowed.
The fishermen have this north-east island life hardships etched into their face, divulging her secret struggles, with the weather, with time, and changing earth.
Verdant farms dot the mid-island landscape. Farmer stands, and markets offer a seasonal supply of freshness. Sustainability and a natural approach to life and farming are central.
Days are slow, they are meant to be. Savor the fresh salty air, the warm ocean breeze. Take a moment, simply feel the suns gentle rays.
Stand on her cliffs and wonder.
Imagine winter’s lonely nights as light keeper.
Be stirred by the wonder of spring’s arrival.
Contemplate memories of childhood, of sandcastles, starfish, and shells.
It is a place bursting with sustenance for the soul.
But, home,well home is where I thrive, the hills, the green fields, pastoral scenes, the barns, and the people.
All it takes to appreciate what you have is to be without it for awhile.
Hope you are well,
Life is balance.
We strive for balance yet balance is all around us.
We struggle between effort and rest, between night and day, between yes and no.
What will work and what won’t.
Do we need to have more quiet, more noise, more movement, more stillness?
Do you find balance with travel?
Do you remain grounded?
What keeps you happy and healthy?
Me? A Sunday night drive in the country.
Indian Lore, Celebrate Earth Day a day late.
There was an old lady, from the Cree tribe, named Eyes of Fire, who prophesied that one day, because of the (man’s) Yo-ne-gis’ greed, there would come a time, when the fish would die in the streams, the birds would fall from the air, the waters would be blackened, and the trees would no longer be.
There would come a time when the “keepers of the legend, stories, culture rituals, and myths, and all the ancient customs” would be needed to restore us to health. They would be mankinds’ key to survival, they were the “Warriors of the Rainbow”.
They would tell them why our earth is sick, they would show the peoples that this (the Great Spirit), is full of love and understanding, and teach them how to make the Earth or “Elohi” beautiful again. They would teach of Harmony among people in all four corners of the Earth.
Once again, they would be able to feel joy in solitude and in councils. They would be free of petty jealousies and love all mankind as their brothers, regardless of color, race or religion. They would feel happiness enter their hearts, and become as one with the entire human race. Their hearts would be pure and radiate warmth, understanding and respect for all mankind, Nature, and the Great Spirit.
They would once again fill their minds, hearts, souls, and deeds with the purest of thoughts. They would seek the beauty of the Master of Life — the Great Spirit! They would find strength and beauty and the solitudes of life. Their children would once again be able to run free and enjoy the treasures of nature.
The rivers would again run clear, the forests be abundant and beautiful, the animals and birds would be replenished. The powers of the plants and animals would again be respected and conservation of all that is beautiful would become a way of life.
The poor, sick and needy would be cared for by their brothers and sisters of the Earth. These practices would again become a part of their daily lives. The leaders of the people would be chosen in the old way ~ by those whose actions spoke the loudest. Those who demonstrated their love, wisdom, and courage and those who showed that they could and did work for the good of all, would be chosen as the leaders or Chiefs.
They would be chosen by their “quality” and not the amount of money they had obtained. Like the thoughtful and devoted “Ancient Chiefs”, they would understand the people with love, and see that their young were educated with the love and wisdom of their surroundings.
They would show them that miracles can be accomplished to heal this world of its ills, and restore it to health and beauty. The tasks of these “Warriors of the Rainbow” are many and great.
There will be terrifying mountains of ignorance to conquer and they shall find prejudice and hatred. They must be dedicated, unwavering in their strength, and strong of heart. They will find willing hearts and minds that will follow them on this road of returning earth to beauty.
It will be with this knowledge that we shall find our “Key to our Survival”.
Have you ever noticed, it can appear some are floating on life’s river.
Yet, upon a closer look they are only appear still…
Is it so bad to be still?
Is it so bad not to be actively chasing?
Chasing careers, chasing financial success, chasing recognition, chasing bigger, chasing better; only to catch it to find it not enough.
Can a successful life be one with out notoriety or fame?
Can we still quietly achieve, not announcing every achievement to the world?
Maybe this holds my smoldering distain for social media, where every undertaking is announced, every exploit a plea for approval.
It is ok to be.
Can you know you matter.
Recognition is a basic human need, I know this.
But is this need now on steroids? Has this need become more demanding?
My thoughts offer more questions than answers.
Can success be contentment?
It is okay to stop paddling so hard; it is okay to savor what you have achieved.
To listen. To feel. To enjoy. To savor.
Attend to where l your heart takes you next.
There may be contentment in still waters.
If I must admit it; I am but a creative soul who may be hard to understand, impossible to second-guess, and known to follow the voice of instinct that no-one else can hear…not to mention understand.
My life can not be torn from the pages of a story book, it is much more complex than that. I am a tear stained, giggle filled , tragically heartbroken, happily ever-after. To put the words of my life on paper would draw pause and speculation; can this truly be?
I am that girl who believes in guardian angels, magic, hard work, tenacity, and family.
I believe in love, the Lord,forever friends, and miracles.
I know that no life is easy and that the past is the past.
I know that working for something makes it worth having.
I know that nothing is free and everything is complicated.
Change is the only constant.
I know too much is never enough, hope is eternal, happiness is relative to your thoughts.
People should be loved for who they are.
Confidence is fragile. Quitting is not an option, but you must know when it is over.
I know my strengths and my weaknesses.
I know I can not live a scripted life, I am far too much of a wanderer of spirit. Always seeking.
I am me. I can. I will. End of story.
A simple bit of earth has the impressive power of evoking grand dreams. The magic begins with the arrival of winter’s dispersal of seed catalogs.
If you garden and are anything like me you dream, and plan you scratch lines in the soil with the toe of your boot, you carve and through grassy strips creating new beds and expanding the old. You move this here and that there, in hope of better growth. Maybe this next to that would be better…you have illusions of a grand garden (or perhaps delusions).
Notions gleaming with possibility and loosely tangled treasure bounce through your noggin, like spring peepers on your pond.
Ideas flash like a a photographer’s bulb, if only they were as easily created as they are imagined.
I imagine more garden paths, lined with pea stone beckoning you to enter herb gardens filled with basils, thyme, rosemary, and sage, or a bench tucked away in a secret cutting garden.
Fields of french lavender lending their fragrance to dawn’s solitude.
You feel the moss under your bare feet that cling to the damp slate slabs in an outdoor dining area. You sit, senses drenched with wisteria draping from the pergola overhead. Birds, bees, and butterflies going about the daily task of pollination (no chemicals to harm them in sight).
It’s still much too cold here to get out and work the soil, so I sit sipping Earl Grey whilst I bide my time, content to plan and dream.
“My garden of flowers is also my garden of thoughts and dreams. The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful.” Abram L. Urban
Be well, dream, and do.
Press Publish ~ Portland. Celi’s there you know. Hers was the first blog I followed when first starting mine in May of 2011. Her blog is a treat. If you haven’t already you should check it out. Some sessions will be live streamed, you have to register for tickets. Her session will begin at 1:45. There will also be so many helpful sessions, I hope to catch this one, as I am new to WordPress Premium. I am a little excited. Here is my very first post, have you read it? It seems so long ago, so much has happened since that day in May. There have been failures and unexpected successes. Moments to embrace and lessons in letting go. Through it all, I have laughed, cried, and learned. Delightfully alive. Be well, Jess
Winter. Just another of life’s adventures; fraught with roller coaster temperatures and seemingly insurmountable layers of snow and ice. A journey that forced us inside, inside ourselves to ponder our dreams and the roads we have already traveled. To navigate our paths, or wander serendipitously, our minds open to what could be.
Something about the near hibernation plummets me into retrospect, a desire to reroute my intended destination; to find joy in my journey, succumb to the stillness. Be. It has faded , winter; I struggle to rectify the inside with the out. I listen to melody of my past, believing the best is yet to come. Fresh beginnings, new goals, bright dreams; they are all there in the song. A song of sweet nothings. I delight in the sweet nothings now, the season slowed me enough to recognize contentment in the ordinary. The sunrise, the sunset, skyping with my husband 10 thousand miles away, puppy kisses, baby giggles, or a llama’s whiffle; these are gifts that could slip by without being noticed, aren’t they? Keep your eyes and your heart open lest you miss life’s beauty. Some of the best moments are the simplest. Be well, catch the moments and hold on tight. Jess