Strange Day

This has been an active twenty four hours.  Though I have been a bit short for words my mind has been busy thinking and my fingers busy decorating blogs. I find decorating is very relaxing when I cannot express myself.  Expression has always been a bit of an issue with me, most of my emotions finding their way to the page rather than face to face with others.  It is not the best quality and one that I am certain has frustrated more than one acquaintance. To some it may appear I have no courage and in that they are somewhat correct. In some parts of my life I am fearless but it is difficult to take chances when it involves opening myself to others.  There may be words waiting to spill from me  and yet they will remain  cautiously contained.

Getting back to the decorating issues,  I worked and worked on this sounding a bit like the three bears, as I grumbled with size and color trying to find the right fit. I succeed in the wee hours of  night getting the code to work for a stunning set of backgrounds I had found. Alas, upon opening the blog today, the design was gone and my plain periwinkle page remained.  So I found the tried and true backgrounds I had used before and moved on.  Last night I culled my blog on the community site, not just posts but the entire blog. I did not delete my identity as I thought better of the situation and my foul mood. It was a wise move as this morning I decided I needed to begin again and so I did. The blog name went back to the original name of two years ago and I changed some other things to the way they had been in the beginning. I do not know why but it was strangely liberating and I found this piece of me returned. Now I need only to cull a person or two in that community as I have vowed to have nothing whatsoever to do with anything that resembles trouble.  That said, there was more.  I really was into the mood yesterday and opened a new blog, one for pure humor, something I felt the site needed. It was an alter ego, something despite what others say, I have not had before. I slaved on the decorations and header, finding just the right look and posted a few things.  This evening when going in to check the site I found it gone. Heading to my email I discovered a paragraph in German, describing my offenses, none of which I can remember having done.  I put it on translate and it was no more than a generic, “choose one” sort of explanation. I wrote back explaining that I could not possibly recall what I had done and letting them know in two years of pro blogging on their site, I had never had one issue.  An explanation would have been nice rather than an out and out deletion. I am really wondering now who came in and perhaps had some fun with my new blog. Sounds crazy, but I have seen it happen.

Tonight I have been sticking to words and hoping no more issues come my way.  The evening is beautiful and the songs of twilight are just beginning. My son has crashed for the night and I plan to spend this much needed time outside with the moon and I am hoping some fireflies.

Summer

Then followed that beautiful season… Summer….
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sunday Morning in June

Sunday morning has given way to cool temperatures and gusts  of wind, the many hot days of summer giving us a respite.  The patio doors are open and the blinds once again letting in the morning sun.  It is a welcome change though I sit in a sweatshirt and socks as if it were the first days of Autumn.  The hum of the air conditioner is missing, replaced once again by the wind in the trees, the song of the birds and the many conversations from the pond.

It has been difficult these past few days  for me to summon any words, caught in the dramas of blog life and those who one sometimes finds there. Though it has been tiring, I think perhaps some things have come away better and I have a very strong sense of myself and what I believe.  I do not sway so easily as in the past and found a way to step back from it all, much more quickly than in the past.

Summer is different for me this year and I am attempting to savor each day,  and it seems I look on the colors and detail much more carefully, as if taking in a painting.  Life calls to me with a different voice, reminding me of what is and what is not important.  It reminds me to pursue those things I hold close despite the thoughts of others, and to have the the courage to speak from the heart, as the only wasted words are those left unsaid.

The summer solstice came and went without time for much of a celebration as did the new moon.  The energy of the time was with me and I did find a place to remember it, if only in my heart.  Life is not just the moon and stars, but the  beauty of the day as well, the green of the trees, the many colors of summer and the water, all of it a part of me.  Maybe I have just gone back to the beginning or perhaps I have taken a turn off one road back on to another, the new and improved version moving forward.

I am rambling now, my conclusion getting lost in the fatigue of a crazy Saturday still hovering this Sunday morning.  My mind is full of words and I will try to be a bit more attentive here, sharing my thoughts and journeys with you.  Enjoy the day, whether rain or shine.

In summer, the song sings itself.  ~William Carlos Williams

Summer Sky

To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie -
True Poems flee.
~Emily Dickinson

DUSK its ash-grey blossoms sheds on violet skies,

Over twilight mountains where the heart songs rise,

Rise and fall and fade away from earth to air.

Earth renews the music sweeter. Oh, come there.

Come, acushla, come, as in ancient times

Rings aloud the underland with faery chimes.

Down the unseen ways as strays each tinkling fleece

Winding ever onward to a fold of peace,

So my dreams go straying in a land more fair;

Half I tread the dew-wet grasses, half wander there.

Fade your glimmering eyes in a world grown cold;

Come, acushla, with me to the mountains old.

There the bright ones call us waving to and fro—

Come, my children, with me to the ancient go.

A.E. (George William Russell)

Drifting A Bit

While I realize I have posted it before I have a unexplainable need to post this again. I cannot explain why or where it takes me each time I listen, but it is a place I need to be tonight. It is frustrating that I must resort to you tube to post music as this cuts off before the beautiful ending.

Some Fill With Each Good Rain

There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.

In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That “love” is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.

There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that

From “The Gift” by Daniel Ladinsky.

Wandering Home

The past few days I found myself stumbling through the pile of books that have waited by my bedside for many months.  Instead of writing words, I chose to let myself get lost in them.  It was time to retreat, to pull away from the world and find a place for myself one of quiet and solitude.  As I read the first chapter  I found myself falling into a world I understood and a world I missed. It was a world that had led me to sit under my first moon. Surrendering to the pages I drifted away, walking the wooded paths with the writer and hearing the voices that beckon when you have truly found yourself in a mystical world.

As I read on I began to realize how much time I had given to all the wrong things and how I had begun to write for others instead of myself.   In  doing so ,  I had lost the words and the ability to weave them together.  No longer was I writing for the simple pleasure of it when I would drift away to another place. I was losing touch with the person I had finally found and it was then I realized I must reach back and take her hand before she disappeared into the mists.

For the past few days I had been looking at opening something new, thinking perhaps it w0uld give me a quiet space, slightly anonymous where I could once again drift and dream.  It is a work in progress and one that may never come to anything.  That drifting is starting again for me with or without a new place as the site does not make the writer, the writer makes the site.  I am once again dreaming of other places and hope to make those dreams a reality. Time is short and we cannot make it wait.

The thunder has rumbled today, a bit like my mood, and then the badly needed rain poured down, moving the water of the pond and filling the night air with the songs of summer.  The trees seemed to smile and I felt a weight lift off me at last.  The grey skies hide the moon and stars but I know they are there and tonight I will dream of walking quietly through the woods with only their light as my guide.  There in the clearing I will find the small green covered house that waits for me to open the door and find my way home.

Fall Into Rose Petals

Fall into rose petals.

Feel the softness

of their shelter

where the sun is

the sound of summer

and night is the

sweet scent of the air.

The rain is

the morning dew,

and wind is the voice

of  one who whispers

in your dreams.

Drift now

to where the

world is quiet

but for the sounds

of  summer days

and nights

to the petals of the rose.

Early Morning

The day is perfect, one of those summer days where the sun is shining and the weather is not too much in any direction. The birds are singing and the geese drifting lazily across the ponds with their children in tow.  We have caterpillars now, an annual thing where my son raises Monarch butterflies from eggs. Even after all these summers it is still a wonder to observe something so beautiful evolving from a tiny spec on a leaf.

Last night I was filled with noble plans and a beautiful moon called to me.  It was not to be and I fell asleep before 9pm. It is nice to join the world in the morning for a change and I have to say there is beauty to be found not only under the moon and stars but also in the early quiet hours of the day.  There are many projects that need my attention today and I need to get started on them. Still I cannot help the desire to just let the day drift away while I relax and write on the deck. Perhaps later today I can reward myself but the fabric bits of past projects sit on the carpet and the house is in need of a going over.

Life goes on floating through the days and nights of the seasons.  We just need to stop once in a while and shut out the world so we can savor the moment before it disappears.