April 27 - May 1 Cognitive Dissonance

March one year ago






                               
                       This April

2010- While I was away the goldfinches turned completely yellow.  They love the feeder and it’s like having them for pets when they crowd around-without any of the responsibility.  J’s offer of the two kittens is very tempting; I felt proprietary about them the second I saw them under the steps.  But…It’s more than that; it is just not a good time to take on that kind of commitment, with possibly having to        move this summer.  I feel a call to continue that paring away of ‘things’ that started when I moved out of the house and into the studio.  Renting out the house has been a good way to loosen my ties to the place and I feel like I could sell it.  But only to buy somewhere else--I can’t see having no home at all.  Yet.

Across the meadow
Dandelions fly away.
This gold finch a clue.

2011-Except for a rare couple of mostly sunny warm hours, like last evening’s sunset, the weather has been warm, pouring rain alternating with many cold grey days at a stretch.  Everywhere you go people are complaining.
I saw a sight out the front door so beautiful and evocative it put me in mind of my old dilemma-what do you do with beauty? Eat it, paint it, describe it?  (Somehow stop time in order to hold on to it?) The olive of the door in the pale yellow of the porch walls famed the picture.  At the far back of the scene, the olive of the studio with its pale yellow trim repeated those colors but not exactly as they were changed by the outdoor light into warmer versions of themselves.  In front of that, the  dark wet wood of the fence set off the bright clear green of the new lilac leaves. Over all that was laid, in exquisite tracery, the  yellow and ochre and citron lacework of the maple’s new leaves and flowers which seemed to hang at greater length than I ever remember before.  The dark wet boughs provided structure underneath the cascade..  It struck me as very Japanese or Arts and Crafts style.  I did not think the camera would capture the effect of the depth of it-the layering-and later in the afternoon when the sun came out and shone from the back of the house, the whole picture was strangely flat and washed out.  Gone.
2012-

The dying oak tree,
Pushed sideways by last fall’s storm,
Leafs out one last spring.

2013-Sadly, at least for me because I won't get to see the whole nesting process, the nest the robins were working on fell out of the tree and I found it on the ground. I guess they’ve had to choose a new site somewhere else. I saw a rabbit playing in the rain, bounding across the grass, chasing birds. I just fell in love; it had the happy goofy energy we usually associate with puppies and kittens. But, at the same time-and bear with me now-, I saw it as food-as meat. And, as I somehow entertained these two thoughts at the same time, a view of the world opened up from a perspective larger than I have encompassed before. Perhaps as important as what we eat is how we eat it…with full connection to the whole, at least as far as we can grasp it, and with love and reverence.

April 22 - April 26 Leaves Bloom

2010-The drama of fall leaves is so commonly appreciated as to be almost a cliché, yet I find the more subtle but equally varied colors of spring foliage more satisfying.  The combinations of butterscotch and rust, a hundred shades of golden greens contrasted with reds ranging from the burgundy of the Japanese maple to the peach of birch buds leave me feeling immersed in poetry.  The intricacy and delicacy of the unfurling forms adds to the overall effect; a miracle of tender feeling reborn in me every spring.

Peach mists of springtime
Against burgundy maple;
Tender ochre buds.

2011- Grey wet weather continues though it is gradually warming up.  The grass is suddenly green and lush and now I worry that it will be too long to cut before it dries enough to do it.  The wet weather does make the colors standout, even the lichen glows against the wet black bark, though things are far behind last year.  It’s hard not to be sad when the sun just doesn’t come out, and then I feel ashamed of being so susceptible.  I realize I feel I should be more in control of my feelings, though if anyone asked I would have denied thinking that way.  Just go ahead and be sad I guess, until I’m not.

See how the new sprouts
That crack the grey stones open
Are seeping fresh tears.

2012-There had been no rain at all this month and now the forecast calls for all of it at once, overnight.  There was a precursor  thunderstorm last night that wet the ground pretty well so the rest can be absorbed rather than run off. Still, if it falls at once there could again be the flooding we saw last spring.
The robin has decided not to nest in the yew though I still see it somewhat forlorn on the same branch of the ash many mornings. Then it flies off, I know not where.  The grackles are annoying still, hogging the feeders in spite of my not refilling them for long periods hoping to drive them away. I’ll just use up the feed I have and stop for the summer-hopefully before the bear returns. The wisteria is blooming amid the white lilacs to very pretty effect.  The pretty little red leaves of poison ivy are appearing already.
 2013- The robins are nesting in the yew again, right outside the window.

Softly swelling buds
Are tender yellow babies;
Washed by this cold rain.

April 16 - April 21 Stars Come Out in Daytime

2010-Well. The week-long trip I’d planned turned into a three week long odyssey; Boston to New Jersey to Florida to New Jersey and finally home again. While I was experiencing perpetual summer in Florida the Northeast experienced several days of 80 degree plus weather and everything began blooming.  Then the weather returned to seasonably cool, preserving the blooms so that when I came back I found tulips, apples, crabapples, viburnum, nectarine, violets, pansies, bleeding hearts, daffodils, dandelions, ajuga, mustard, etc.-all in bloom together.  The lilacs are coloring up, the maples are fully leafed, in spots the grass is already grown too long to cut easily, the fern fronds are unfurling and the blueberries in the sunnier spot are blooming.  The wisteria is, for once, full of buds. Florida comes off strangely sterile in comparison.
I open the skylight to listen to the peepers even though it’s still in the high thirties at night.  The birdsong in the morning is loud enough to wake me up.  There is some disagreement among the reservoir naturalists concerning the fate of the eagle eggs.  Some say they laid them too early and they were destroyed in the last late snowstorm, others that they are still sitting them.  Also a report of a third grown eagle.  I will have to go out and see for myself.
2011- Well things are considerably behind this year, a not particularly good one for the forsythia which are only sparsely blooming, except for the foot high skirts of solid bloom which perhaps result from the protection of snow cover.  I’ve seen a few dandelions in sheltered spots but there are no tulips, apples, crabapples, nectarines, violets, pansies (except newly installed ones), bleeding hearts, ajuga, mustard or lilac buds.  The maple leaves are tightly curled. It’s been consistently cold and cloudy, excepting a warmish day or two, and I find myself completely out of sorts with the weather.  The cold and gray makes me feel like hibernating; I have to force myself outside to clean the garden and spread compost, though I’m always glad after I have.  Then yesterday, feeling ’under the weather’ , I was so irritated when the clouds parted to let the sun shine through.  All I wanted to do was hide under the blankets.  I did think of rainbows and checked the east across from the lowering sun, but none appeared.
2012-Interesting to see that this spring that is being touted as unprecedented is so similar to two years ago. The wild plums are blooming heavily.
 A couple of robins are hanging around and I watched one gather up a beak-full of grasses and then fly into the yew and add them to the early stages of a nest. I continued with my normal activities which, since it was a very warm day, included hanging a wash and sitting outside for long stretches of time. I don’t want it to discover how active the deck is when the eggs are laid and it’s too late. But. I didn’t see the robin again all day and this morning one was sitting in the ash tree and just (sadly, I thought) surveying the situation. Will it decide to continue or not?
A little black beetle with beautiful yellow spots like watercolors landed on me yesterday. It had cute little knobs on the ends of its antennae. How amazing and beautiful and underappreciated are the multitudes of insect forms. It is easy to imagine them the knights and princes of another kingdom.
2013- More like two years ago (is this a pattern) the star magnolia are only just beginning to bloom in earnest. I always thought they were named for their star shaped flowers but when the tree is in shadow with just the blooms being highlighted by the sun, it reminds me of stars winking on in the darkening sky.
Death has been more and more in my thoughts. One reason vegan friends choose that diet is a moral one-feeling it is wrong to kill. Even ants seem to want to live and a piece on the radio suggests mice laugh. Inside me at this moment white blood cells are killing harmful bacteria. Can one even be alive without killing?  Where does one draw the line?  Digging in the garden I uncovered a moles nest; six or so hairless, star-nosed creatures entwined for warmth. I covered the nest back up, not without conflicting feelings about the harm they would wreak on my plants when grown (and continuing to multiply). This morning I found two dead while the rest had presumably been moved by their mother. Conflicting feelings.

April 11 - April 15 Grass Becomes Green

2011-The kitchen is full of ants.  There are a few medium sized ones but most are  the very small (though not the tiniest) kind. I was thinking ant traps when I saw one trying to drag a particle of food longer than himself, struggling and struggling to drag it away.  Suddenly I identified too much to want to put out poison to be tracked back to exterminate the whole nest.  I decided to try to put up with them as long as I could.  My responsibility, I realized, was to keep the counters as clean as possible.  Otherwise it’s just not fair.  I began to think about karma-’instant karma’- because my reward for not killing them was a change in the nature of the whole world I live in; it became a gentler place.  Now I am living in a world where I can open my heart to Sister Ant.  Can I extend this acceptance to slugs eating my garden?  Not yet anyway.
2012-There’s a strange quietness.  The nectarine is all bursting blossoms, but only a single bee. The birds are subdued-intimidated by the grackles?  Even the peepers have retreated into silence.

Thursday Morning

The wall creaked angrily.
The refrigerator,
Totally lacking in consideration,
Cycled aimlessly off and on.
Over in the corner
A fly whined constantly
But refused to better its situation.

In spite of all precautions,
Joy
Leaks in under the doors
And falls in through the windows.

2013- More bug issues. This year the kitchen ants are a bigger two toned variety. About a dozen arranged themselves on the tiles behind the stove and just stood still there for a few days. Then they left.  Reading outside, I observed the life drama of a scarlet-eyed fly that fell into my wine. I fished it out and set it on the arm of the chair  where it began rubbing itself dry with its little legs. At first its wings seemed glued together, but after a while they separated and eventually it was able to fly off. It appeared to have as much concern for its self as I have for mine. And then a little later, an insect flew onto the page that looked exactly like a chocolate sprinkle in two sections. With red antennas. It was so cute I became bug enamored and dwelt for the rest of the day in a marvelous magical kingdom of cross species love and appreciation.
Then I discovered that some branches of my indoor Myer lemon tree were completely covered in ants. Last year this was my first indication of a massive scale infestation that nearly killed the tree. Even though I could find no scale and supposed that the sweetness of the blossoms could be the attraction, I took no chances and brought out the pyrethrin. The tree looks good but the ants are all dead.  I try to feel bad about it but I don't.

April 6 - April 10 Frustrated Squirrels

2011-Infinite shades of green. Today (the 7th) the day has grown to an even thirteen hours.  I’ve been waiting for the peepers to start but the evenings have been so cold, I haven’t been out.  Then Friday evening(8th) there was a full chorus- had they been gradually building up?  Val said she had not heard them before either-they’d come all at once.
This morning I watched  solitary turkey cock walk and skitter across the field.  Periodically gobbling and shaking out his tail feathers, but never fully extending them, he seemed very taken with himself but fearful at the same time.
2012-The weather is cool but stabilized-very windy.  We are all waiting for rain, which forecast only in the 10 to 20 percent chance range, is not very likely. Yesterday I saw a farmer plowing up great clouds of pale dust preparing for corn. I need to water my early seeds today. The daffodils are kind of skimpy this year, but because of the cool weather, the opulent forsythia are lasting and lasting. The house glows golden from their blooms.

Forsythia’s glow
As warming as real sunshine
This cold grey morning.

2013-And then this year the forsythia are still closed up tight, only showing the tiniest crescent of green between the bus scales. The grass is just beginning to color up and out at the reservoir I wasn’t sure the palest mist of color around the trees wasn’t my imagination. The eagle people were anxiously awaiting the first hatch.
 Yesterday, in support of keeping feeders full, I heard a bird person say that this is a critical time for them, nest building, and before insects and other food sources are widely available.  The squirrel I thought was dead (I know it's him) is back, frustrated by the empty feeders.Yet I’ve been warned by bear people that hibernation is well over. What to do?

April 1 - April 5 Daffodils Bloom

2011-The 12 inch snow  storm predicted for last night has failed to materialize.  The light covering I woke to is already melted away. It emphasizes the feeling I have that the season has turned a corner; no matter what the retreating winter can hatch, spring will be stronger.  The ice on the reservoir is completely melted.  The water is turgid and chocolate colored. (How can eagles see to catch fish?)
Strangely, perhaps because I have been kept inside so much by the weather when I want to be out, or maybe because they are the principal thing filling my eyes while I do yoga, but I have fallen in love with the slate floor tiles. Each one contains the beauty and complexity of a fabulous painting, in fact I fantasize making these paintings though I don’t know where to start.
2012-A two inch snowfall crushes the heavily blooming forsythia and then melts away; the usual dance of extremes. Now the weather has settled into a pattern of sorts-blustery mid fifties days and low to mid thirties nights.  This years’ extremes are perhaps the reason behind the unusual bird migration. Other years the robins have been settled in mating and nest building now, but this year they have been chased off by the flocks of red winged blackbirds and common grackles that swept in and, finding the feeders full, decided to stay. I am not refilling them in hopes these obnoxious (the grackles anyway) visitors will move along. Or perhaps it is my time to learn to love and appreciate them as I do dandelions. (Plateful of greens every night this week.)

Blooming so early,
Fiery forsythia steams;
Quenched by heavy snow.

2013-ROBINS! Suddenly there they were, about a dozen, hopping around on the grass. Though that was several days ago and once again they seem to have been chased off by the more aggressive birds. I’m done with filling the feeder now as bears are probably waking up.
There are no platesful of greens yet this year but I did put together the first salad-a mix of garlic mustard, dandelion; leaves, buds, and crowns, ramps, and a bit of scallion and sorrel from the garden.