Discovery Drafts

Watching the Canada geese goslings have their supper on Wednesday evening, my daughter and I struggled to take their pictures before they ducked around their mom. We kept our distance, but they were well aware of us--especially papa, who stood straight as a guard outside of Buckingham Palace. Within minutes, the fivel little guys got huddled behind their mother, who was following her mate into the water and away from the paparazzi. The fifth gosling had to struggle to keep up; nobody stopped for him, and there was no going back. In little time, he made it back to the downy fold on their way across the pond. The image of their sticking close to their mother stuck with me as Adella and I made our way into the woods past the uncurling ferns and blossoming anemone and the very cheerful poison ivy that was ready for business. I thought how the adult geese didn't make a sound and seemed not to pay attention us at all. Still, our being there was enough; with a subtle turn and step, the

When I was on Topsail Island a few weeks ago, I made my way to Surf City to watch the sun slip away. The boardwalk over the marsh and around the boat launch and out to the fishing pier made for some peaceful evenings. (Straight out of the camera. I am too dumb to know how to edit.) Skywatch Friday

Wordless Wednesday

I was thinking the other evening that Mama Goose sure was doing a lot of sitting around before her recent disappearance. She was up with the dude and the brood on Saturday morning, and they were fun to watch. The little guys disappear completely in the grass and shadows of trees in the early April light. My World Tuesday

I sat down in the grass yesterday morning to enjoy just how still the day was. The trees are in flower, and so was the grass (in a way). Today's Flowers

Heat of the sun Deathly winter cold Rain and snow The weight of life itself Over and over: Birds and children Animals with night eyes Creeping and leaping This rock Almost as tall as I Flat as a table And round Yielded to the pressure The fissure became A crack Became a crevice Became a divide Wide enough to lose Things in-- Jewelry and coins Pens and scrapped love letters Bottle caps Sunflower seeds And chestnuts (You tell me....) There are stories Down that space Where no hand will reach Wind and rain Have mulched history As they have taken the edges Off this rock that is two rocks. There is silence There is story Sit a while Imagine what lies In the dark space between. There is time. One Single Impression

Yesterday evening I took a long walk along the edge of the swamp near home and shared part of the way with a muskrat. I watched him swim until he came to a tuft of grass. Then he would walk over the grass and slip back into the water. On and on he went until he went deep and hooked a left into the still waters under the shadows of the hills. I didn't expect him to come up where he did, which I think may have been his point. That's the way to do it, I thought. You do what you do, and when there's an obstacle, it's up and over. When it's time to change direction, then it's time to change direction. You do it. You get yourself to a safe and peaceful place, and you rest. The little furry dude was my teacher last night. Lately, I've had a tough time with some difficult, obstructive people who delight in hurting others. I've toughed out sleepless nights trying to figure out why this is and, more important, why they had me so upset. Though these women are pr

Skywatch Friday

This was wordless, but.... I had fun with this shot after picking up a half a mountain of trash from the beach near one of the public access parking lots on North Topsail Beach. There were some public access garbage bins that didn't get much use the night before, apparently. I spent my last few moments on the beach last week cleaning up after some slobs who were entitled to access but didn't feel obliged to respect the beach when I came across this baby sandal near a crab hole. I had to laugh. The shoe was the only bit of trash I didn't pick up. Alice will need it when she comes back. Wordless Wednesday

I woke up early to a foggy morning on North Topsail Beach, North Carolina, last Sunday. The misty air was very beautiful, and it dissolved into a bright, clear day as I walked. It was wonderful and peaceful and quiet. The first shot above is a view across the intracoastal waterway to some houses on the beach. The second is a view of some folks who got up before me; and the third, a view of the fishing pier in the solitude that I cherish. Everyone else seemed to have gone. I enjoyed watching the water as the light around it changed. This very beautiful place shows me again and again the wonder of being alive, the privilege of being alive, the joy of being alive. It's all so very simple. At the heart of all of this, I feel a tremendous gratitude to my parents, who made the ocean a part of my life from an early age. When I was younger, I didn't always want to be there when we would go boating on summer weekends. I am glad my parents did their job and took me there, anyway.

These flowers trail along the road between my parents' home in North Carolina and the beach. On the way to the beach one morning, they were dew drizzled buds; on the way back, they were hungrily feasting on the sun. Today's Flowers

No mask,she said. Not even an eye mask, she said. No, no, No.... Though the mask was beautiful Though it worked so well with the costume Though it completed the illusion Though I had made it For her And I Her mother Said so. No, she said. I won't. I am a witch Dancing in a sea of flames And this is my cape full of black magic I am a witch Grinning Under the brim of this pointed Pilgrim's hat I will look you in the eye and be that. I can look you in the eye and be that. No mask. There's some family history in this one. For most of Adella's life, I have made her Halloween constumes. The year of the witch costume, she did, indeed, refuse to wear the mask. As the tone of this poem suggests, she was adamant and I was annoyed. I am slow seamstress, and the project took a good long while. The word "brat" crept into my thoughts more than once. In the end, she had her way. Looking back, I realize I was the brat, though. She was telling me something import

The long ride home from North Carolina to Connecticut on Wednesday became a sojourn on E Street, a full-immersion baptism into the music of Bruce Springsteen. That miracle called satellite radio brought me version after version after version of hits such as "Badlands," "The Rising," "Johnny 99," "Oh, Mary, Don't You Weep," and "Thunder Road." There were no repeats; each version was a new experience. Bruce closed my 13 hours in the car with the words, "I'm just a prisoner of 'Thunder Road.'" Which made me laugh out loud. And smile. And think. This is a song I have never much liked, though I very much like Springsteen. Last night I fell into my bed wondering, how can I like this guy's music and dislike this song that, by his own account defines him? Back to the miracle of satellite radio. Somewhere along Route 270, I listened to an early version of "Thunder Road," and he sang with such plain passi

Skywatch Friday

I have been away for the past five days, and my email account has been idle. Twice I checked messages while away. Most recently, I checked yesterday, April 13, at supper time. All was well. However, today, Wednesday, I arrived home at 10 p.m. to discover my email account had been hacked and all the email addresses in my address book have received an ad for Viagra. I am very sorry that persons in my email address book have received this junk. Over the past hour, I have changed my password, and I have been deleting the addresses of all but a very few persons. Many professional contacts were in that address book, and I am very embarrassed by this intrusion. Again, I am sorry.

Wordless Wednesday

This ferocious beauty designed by Evelyn Batchelder Longman and erected in 1927 or 1937, Nike, the Greek Goddess of War, commemorates the "valor and patriotism of the Hartford men who served their country" in the Spanish-American War of 1898-99. Her big feet keep her from falling over. (We don't know how Barbie does it.) My World Tuesday

On Easter Sunday, I went for a short walk in around Waterbury before church. At the corner of Church and Grand, I saw this beautiful magnolia in bloom outside the Chase Building, an architectural gem designed by Cass Gilbert .

Sixth Grade Vocabulary Lesson What do you think of when you think of comfort? Comfort? I think soft. Cozy. Write that down. He stares at me. This is a look I had once Taken for Insolence Though I learned Once That this is the look of A waiting mind. Oh. Sorry. S - O - F - T. I am ready for the next word On his list, but-- And cozy, miss. How you spell cozy? I spell. He writes. We make our way down a long list That ends with assuring. For the rest of the day My mind will replay the tape And I will learn again The meaning of soft As it came through The searching eyes Of a young man Seeking the comfort Of knowledge In a classroom. I think soft. Cozy. S - O - F - T. One Single Impression

Walking along the swamp the other day, I could smell the cherry blossoms that were still in the making, and I could see far and clear because the leaves are yet a long way from coming out. The dried relics of last summer stood in stark relief against the sky and all the impending life. Was nice. Skywatch Friday

Wordless Wednesday

The daffodils and forsythia have filled my world with yellow light from the ground up. I can't get enough. My World Tuesday

These are some dusk shots of some soon-to-be cherry blossoms. They were some distance from me when I shot them. All kinds of natural debris came between me and them. We have had such warm weather, I will be sure to check them every day. There's nothing sweeter than these guys in full bloom. Today's Flowers

Before I was with you I was with God My child said this to me At four. Other children At four Have said this to their mothers. It is true: Spirits travel. Children know and remember, And they try to tell us When they chase butterflies Follow turtles into the cool dark, Roll down hills, twirl in the grass, Fall down laughing in the sunshine. So do I Though I know nothing Of God. I know the butterflies, Turtles, grass, and sunshine. I know laughter. It is the thread running Through this needle We call life. My loose running stitches Are sloppy. I know it. Right now these stitches are my best work. They fasten me to this world And to you Loosely. I know it. What can I say. I am not sorry. I am laughing in the sunshine. Be with me And let it be. One Single Impression

The white tower is the Travelers Insurance building on Main Street in Hartford, Connecticut. Skywatch Friday