Let It Flow, Let It Go

Another year ends...let it go.

Behold These Riches

There is no wealth but life.

~ John Ruskin

Author, poet, artist

1819 – 1900

Snow White Christmas Eve

The First Snow-Fall
The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.
Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch deep with pearl.

~ James Russell Lowell
1882

I Should Like to Rise and Go

Winter arrived two days early. We are in the midst of a major snowstorm with a foot of snow predicted. More snow is coming on Sunday. Friends from Florida called earlier. On the whole, I'd rather be in the South Pacific.

"I should like to rise and go
Where the golden apples grow;
Where below another sky
Parrot islands anchored lie."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson
Travel, A Child’s Garden of Verses

Thanks to fiji-hotels.com for this amazing photo.

Loxosceles reclusa

It was a bug. The vet put Rock on antibiotics and he's already feeling better and eating again. He was curled up in his basket inside a dark closet for days, a sure sign that something was amiss. He does seek out his basket for comfort, the way a child will suck his thumb, but there was no doubt that he was under the weather, and in his delicate state of health a bug can be life-threatening.

This bug is a young Brown Recluse spider (Loxosceles reclusa) resting on the side of an umbrella stand in the breezeway on a very cold night. He looks fit, and that's exactly how he ought to look going into winter, but I haven't seen him since. He may have frozen to death, but chances are good that he crawled beneath the breezeway floor and found a cavern of warmth somewhere.

I like spiders and make it a point to leave them be. Still, I hope the bug that laid Rock low does the same vanishing act – for good.

The King and I

I remember the days when my Rachmaninoff was the picture of health, like in this photo, napping in his “catnip bed." He has been feeling poorly again and we’re in ICU mode, offering him spoonfuls of baby food every few hours and hoping he will soon bounce back.

Rock has become very demanding in his dotage, especially at mealtime. His hearing is going, so now he meows as if I’m the one getting deaf, hence the origin of one of his many nicknames, “King,” as in: “Yes my King, right away my King, I’m working as fast as I can, my King.” When Faith, a frequent visitor to this blog, noted that Rock looked “regal,” I was reminded that his royal Maine Coon cat lineage is obvious to many. All Hail the King.

Caring for His Majesty is soulful work and I am a faithful liege. If only I could turn back time.

“I would have followed you, my brother. My captain.

My King.“

~ Boromir to Aragorn
The Fellowship of the Ring

Strange Day River Way

What a strange trip of a day. Some say it's the full moon in Gemini noted for obsessive energy, missed communications, (not the same as miscommunications), roadblocks and detours. Add heavy rain to the mix and I think of a line from a favorite Moody Blues song, “I’m really not so sure which side of the bed I should lay.”

When the sun came out, I headed for a wooded path that wends its way along the Charles River. In some low lying areas, the river had overflowed its banks and lovely little rivulets babbled happily along, as if they would live forever. But with temperatures falling to 20 degrees overnight, they will be sheets of ice tomorrow.

And the Tide Rushes In (2:56)

"Then the tide rushes in
And washes my castles away.
Then I'm really not so sure
Which side of the bed I should lay..."

~ Ray Thomas of The Moody Blues
from Question of Balance, 1970

Cabbages and Kings

“The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax;
Of cabbages and kings….”


~ The Walrus and the Carpenter
by Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872

Remembering Kia

Kia was an exquisitely marked Tortoiseshell, an exotic beauty even at eight-weeks. She died on December 9, 2003 from lung cancer at 15. I still miss her very much, especially this time of year. She came into my life after I had returned from a tour of the South Pacific, and her name is a Polynesian word with many meanings: let there be good fortune; good health; and welcome after long journeys. She brought all of that into my life and more.

I miss so many things about Kia: her churls and chortles; her ballerina’s grace; and the musical sound my voice made whenever I called her name.

May she rest in peace.

Pearl Harbor Day

On Pearl Harbor Day

his father comes alive and walks beside us
along the woodland trail,
listens as the son makes magic
with words of love and remembrance,
the son who didn't get to say goodbye
does now
on Pearl Harbor Day.

December 1998
~ PGW

Ophelia

Whenever I look at this photograph of Lake Sabrina in Wellesley, I think of "Ophelia," a painting by Sir John Everett Millais (1852). Her presence seems to radiate from the center of the lake, or maybe it was just the light that day.

Standing in the Shadows

My Rachmaninoff, the Man of the Forest, is ailing. His kidneys are failing fast. He had been doing better, especially this past week, perhaps as a birthday gift to me, but new tests reveal the worst, and the vet guesses that he may only have two weeks left, maybe six, if we're lucky. I am consoled by the fact that Rock has never lived by the numbers and at nearly 18, still retains his youthful good looks. Bad test results be damned.

Still, I recognized a foreshadowing of what would be when I took this photograph a few weeks ago. In the face of "the strange unknown," represented here by lengthening shadows, he remains calm and courageous. He remains himself.

Now, for his sake, I strive to do the same.

Standing in the shadows of love
I'm getting ready for the heartache to come...

~ Holland-Dozier-Holland
and The Four Tops

Splendor in the Grass

A blast of arctic cold is due to arrive this weekend in New England , it is December after all. Fields where the grass is still green will be hard to find by Solstice.

The transition from late fall to winter is melancholy in a bittersweet sort of way. One season is ending, another is beginning and The Circle Game continues.

Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower
We will grieve not, but rather find
Strength in what remains behind.

~William Wordsworth 1807 Ode, Intimations of Immortality
from Reflections of Early Childhood

Lament for a Forested Acre

“Many of these trees were my friends, creatures I have known from nut and acorn. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."


~TREEBEARD
The Lord of the Rings
The Two Towers

Many of us still do.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

Rachmaninoff gets along fine with turkeys, groundhogs and lots of other critters.

If only humanity could do the same.

A peaceful and happy Thanksgiving to all.

Man of the Forest

My Maine Coon cat Rachmaninoff, aka Man of the Forest, is happiest in the woods. At 17 he still insists on going out, even in the coldest weather. His powerful connection to nature sustains him.

A purebred Maine Coon, Rock has a very sweet personality, is highly intelligent, dog-like in his devotion, and he can be a real clown. He was given up as a kitten simply because he was not perfect. So much for having "papers."

If you'd like to share your life with a companion animal, please consider adopting. There are so many wonderful animals out there just waiting for someone like you to come along. Check out the Medfield Animal Shelter.

I’m Just Wild About Harry

As a lover of all animals, it's difficult to single any out, but dogs are at the top of my list. Recently, I had the privilege of meeting Harry, a 5-month-old Golden Retriever puppy with an extraordinary presence. Extremely intelligent, unusually composed for his age, Harry has show dog lines, a gorgeous coat and can hold his own in rousing play with full-grown dogs twice his size.

Harry's owner points to good genes, but Harry is special because his owner is, too. He gives this little guy plenty of freedom, is very patient and loving, and treats him with a high degree of respect. Maybe that's why all it takes is a whistle to get Harry back on track when he wanders a little too far.

When I asked if I could take his picture, Harry came when called and then posed.

"I'm Just Wild About Harry" (1921)
by Noble Sissle and Eubie Blake

Find Your Sanctuary

Within you
there is a stillness
and a sanctuary
to which you can retreat
at any time
and be yourself.

~ Herman Hesse
1877-1962

Better Times Ahead for Greyhounds

At long last, the cruel sport of greyhound racing will come to an end in Massachusetts, thanks to those who voted Yes on Question 3, banning greyhound racing.

Organizations such as Greyhound Friends, in Hopkinton, MA, have worked hard over the years to save many racetrack greyhounds and place them in loving homes. Word spread quickly that these gentle, sweet dogs made wonderful family pets and deserved better. On November 4th voters let it be known that their mistreatment would no longer be tolerated.

Greyhounds were once prized as royalty by Egyptian Pharaohs. Now, these noble canines may get the chance to live like kings and queens again – as beloved family pets.

Thanks to greyhoundpictures.com for this terrific photo. Visit them for some excellent information on the breed.

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

Daylight Savings Time has ended. Given the choice between having an extra hour of light to spend outdoors or an another hour of sleep – and I do like my sleep – I’d still have to agree with Warren Zevon, may he rest in peace.

These 19th century graves are decorated with ivy, an evergreen that stands for eternity.

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead (1976).

River of Contemplation

Russet, brandywine, goldenrod, persimmon and juniper – autumn brings a mellow interlude of peace and contemplation. Crickets sing their final songs and the river tells those who will listen:

These are the only currents you need concern yourself with now.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for awhile, then closes
Within a dream.

~ Ernest Dowson
(1867-1900)