Category Archives: Things great and small

The detour

The last time we went to the park, I asked for a detour on the way home. It would not take long to visit the past, I thought. So we drove down a country road where nothing looked familiar but the railroad tracks that ran alongside. The end of the road and a sharp turn left and instead of waterside cottages of the past, modern three story floodplain compliant homes confused us as we drove slowly down streets with only familiar names. Finally we saw it.

The tiny house with the separate summer kitchen shadowed by trees I hardly remember.

I remember countless hours splashing about in the river on summer days, long bamboo fishing poles, crabbing from a boat, blankets spread for reading in shade, chatting with cousins and aunts and uncles and the smoke of grilling burgers and hotdogs. There was freedom to run into the cool of the summer kitchen in wet bathing suits dripping on the concrete floor. Adults chatted late in the night while we chased fireflies and then dragged reluctant feet for the long ride home.

We grew up and brought our own young ones to play and enjoy the river. I could see and hear it all in the few minutes I leaned over the fence and breathed the air and captured this scene. The power of memory!

Like my Grandfather, we can hope to build a space in time for future generations to dream and create memories of laughter and family. It doesn’t have to be a cottage on a river; so many more memories came from simple city rowhouses and suburban back yards and porches. The important thing is to make time and space for those we love, isn’t it?

Anniversaries are for remembering goodness

“Who is my neighbor?” someone once asked. Twenty years ago several people stepped up to be good neighbors to us. The first, unknown to us, took time early on a busy day to be neighbor as he went to a nearby house and reported a fire. And those neighbors, stalwart farm folk, called for help. Good neighbors from our volunteer fire company came and put out the fire.

Our farm neighbors stood by caring, emptied a freezer and carried away the food for safe keeping and then did the really hard thing to gently, kindly, call us home from vacation. In the months that followed, we counted on their support and presence.

The stuff of life and the fun of shared birthdays knit neighbors into friends.

Time passes and seasons change and a For Sale sign hangs across the road at the old farm. I miss my neighbors. I hope you have good neighbors and treasure them.

Time in the park

We went to the park on the river where the sun shone brightly through drifting clouds and birds sang and the wind blew hard and chilly up from the bay through old rushes and new leaves.

He biked and I walked and looked and tried to see, really see. And gnarly tree roots opened a door as I walked in the woods.

As the memory door swung open, first I heard the faint chatter and laughter of children at play in the long ago of my first elementary school. The sound grew louder and then I saw the trees. Part of the school yard was shaded by enormous trees with great gnarled roots worn smooth by the countless leather soled feet of children enjoying the simple challenge of stretching and balancing from one to another of the sturdy tree feet. And I remember the feel of rough bark and slipping and sliding in the trying… and smiling nuns with winged white bonnets turning jump ropes and teaching hop-scotch with worn-out heels begged from the shoe repairman down the street…

This tree has years to grow and I wonder if children will hug it and play among the roots, I hope so. Trees can hold the keys to such satisfying memories.

A legacy received

I was searching among some little used jewelry and found a pair of earrings that needed repair. Silver and shell transport me back in time and I remember Margaret’s curly red hair, ready smile and infectious laughter.

Margaret was my Scout leader who came to her position by the pleading of her nieces when their leader resigned. She became a greater part of my story through the years of adolescence, teens then young adult as she became friend and mentor. She always seemed lively and carefree although the facts I didn’t know probably told a different story of life; she had a serenity that carried her through. I thought of her as young, like a youthful aunt or older sister and was dumbfounded to find her older than my mother!

I stared into the cool shell colors and remembered our last time together. I stood by her hospital bed, held her hand and spoke to her in the coma of her cancer stricken body of kindness, love and gratitude and her leaving, too young. Leaving me too young. I looked back amazed at my twenty-something self’s composure, grace and peace.

I’ve had the earrings repaired and I will wear them again and enjoy the small gift. The real gift, the great legacy of kindness and joy, of friendship and time spent together, had lived large in my memories through the years. And I always smile in gratitude.

Do you ever wonder what legacy you are building?

A prayer

Last night I waited in the lamplight of a parking lot forming my thoughts for a friend into written prayer. The door opened as I finished and tired folks wandered out into the February tease of a balmy night. A familiar voice called out a greeting to me and I lowered the window to ask how she was doing. The reply captured me. “God is making a Genesis week out of the chaos in my life. And I’m loving it!”

I had to quickly write this as a closing to my prayer for my far away friend, widowed in the early hours of the day – O God, in this time of chaos in my dear friend’s life, may You breathe on her and bring about wonderful, creative, amazingly beautiful things for her in this time of new beginnings. Amen.

Star Gazing

I can’t seem to get enough of gazing into these beautiful flowers. We have been enjoying this hydrangea since before Christmas. I would so love to have this Shooting Star growing in my garden – earthbound stars in moonlight glow.

Hard frosty morning

I woke early and looked out the window into the still starry darkness. I love the stars in their travels through the sky. As first light came it seemed the grass was white with frost so I checked the temperature with my personal thermometer, yes, the rhododendron leaves were curled down against the cold. As the sun continued its rise, the glory of the hard frost sparkled everywhere. One must see it quickly!

Then bundled against the cold I set off for breakfast time. As I settle into the booth, I tell him I’ve brought some ‘home light’. He slowly views my captured images and I wish for a large screen view to wake the others here to the miracle of light on a hard frost morning. Hope for the light to shine into all our cold, hard places to transform the day.

Doing Life

We went for a walk on a nearby trail. It was a glorious day and the old railroad bed wound around giving glimpses of the stream. Then the path followed along a cut in the rocks. Amazingly, trees were growing out of the rock wall plunging roots into cracks barely seen and somehow growing strong there while sending down roots in search of good soil and more nutrients. The scene is somewhat surreal as ferns grow and tufts of grasses hang on too. In the shadow of all this unexpected life I wondered what tales of pain and growth would be told by rock and plant as they cling together.

Life. We so need each other for nourishment and growth. Sometimes we seem as different from each other as rock and plant but growth happens if we allow ourselves to give and take.

The flowers appear on the earth…

“…the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.“ Song 2:12.

After the long, cool, rainy beginning of spring, green is galloping up the hills. Glowing in the early morning sun, dogwood blossoms uncurl slowly. Rhododendrons show pink promise, there is excitement in the air. I stop in my garden chores and watch the new kids leaping, racing on tiny sure feet. I find myself grinning, catching their exuberance in life, I’m energized.