October 2010

calm and deep peace….



…upon this high wold,
and on these dews that drench the furze,
and all the silvery gossamers
that twinkle into green and gold.

-Tennyson

I am learning that poem a slow line at a time
as I sit at my dressing table for a few quiet minutes
at bed-time.

It is slow-going…as is my knitting.
This is my third try with the gentle art, and tho’
I am enjoying this more than the two previous
goes (brown yarn….nubby….beautiful birch
needles….a scarf to wrap around my neck!).
Still…I know that knitting won’t be my thing.
I truly know it this time and it is ok.
Crochet and embroidery will be next
in my explorations.

My little women are almost grown now.
They roam the yard and fields now and sleep
in the hen house with the older ladies. It
is sweet to watch and I am ready for them
not to need me so much.

We spend hours here and there walking through
Colonial Williamsburg, looking for inspiration for
little details of the building that is progressing. My
new garage studio is nearly finished and soon we
will begin on the little “wing” for my mom. Tho’ I
am also ready not be needed by the project for the
myriad decisions involved in creating new spaces,
it would seem that an addition takes longer to
grow up than chicks do.

But nothing troubles too deeply at the moment.

There truly is a stillness…about the air,
on the earth, in my spirit. I am actually full of
yearning and ponderings at the moment, trying
to figure out so many things…sometimes irritable
and impatient, but even then, in a quiet way.
I don’t really understand it…like the Tennyson
above. If I take the words and lines apart, it
doesn’t make much sense to me. What is furze?
And a wold? I haven’t seen any spider webs
glistening lately. But if I just keep saying the
words out loud, they exactly convey the
season, the month, my heart.

surprisingly…

….I am writing this as I gaze out onto a little
porch, at a table with the remains of a very delicious
room service supper upon it, and beyond it, palm trees
and the smooth green grass of a golf course and
a man in a straw hat getting ready to make
a shot….he is whistling.

I am in Florida, accompanying my mom who
is attending her 61st high school reunion. The last
few days have been spent in travel and in getting to
know her dear friends from long ago. And tonight
she felt comfortable enough to go out to dinner with
the group on her own.

So here I am, camera-less, enjoying a few hours
alone in very odd-to-me surroundings…but thoroughly
enjoying the solitude and the strangeness. Did you know
that golf balls sound like ping-pong balls when they are
hit? This is news to me. Best of all, I am enjoying
the lack of any distraction at all while I savor the last
half of my latest Mary Russell mystery. Which is what
sent me here a few minutes ago when I read this:

“I mean, I’m sure it’s a very nice house, and I know
a lot of people have summer places or hunting lodges
or
things…but it’s just, well, I’m not really a
briars-
and-brambles kind of a girl.”

“…a briars-and-brambles kind of a girl”

…is what I most certainly am.

How about you?

P.S. The photo is from late summer, when I had a quick
TTV session with my dear old Argus.

I will come back here to leave something in the
hedgerow when I return from Southern climes
next week.

xo