Hello Spring

A few days of warm sunshine, and everything is unfolding from a long winter's sleep.

Fingers crossed Mother Nature is not playing a joke.

 

 

Were I to live a thousand years,

 I still would know that flaming thrill,

That rush of joy when first appears

 —the golden daffodil.

A thousand times my heart would sing

When purple irises unfold;

Or when forsythia's branches bring

Their dazzling showers of gold.

I could not see an almond tree

With branches all a rosy glow

But that a tide of ecstasy

Would through my being flow

Were I to see, a thousand times,

Blue scilla bells amid green grass,

I know I'd hear their fairy chimes

As I would pass.

Were I to live a thousand years

I'd never watch the nesting birds

Except through eyes bedimmed with tears,

My tongue bereft of words.

Were I to weave ten thousand lays,

Knew I a thousand songs to sing,

I still would lack the power to praise

—the miracle of Spring.

Silver Lining ~Wilhelmina Sitch 1888

 

March Comes In Like A Lion

A typical start to the month of March, despite the sun shining brightly, the wind is blustery and cold.

I've been busy as a bee, changing out the now-tired Winter decorations and replacing them with Springtime favorites.

The birds are feathering their nests, fluffing and cozying for the next generation.

A season of re-birth, promising new beginnings and hopefulness, in an otherwise chaotic world.

 

" It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold, when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade."

Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Majestic Oak

I pass by this magnificent oak tree everyday. It towers above all of the other trees, and it's sprawling branches stretch across land that was once part of the main dirt toll-road leading to Nashville.

The tree is a Chinkapin White Oak and is listed on the National Oak Registry, it has stood in this spot for the last three hundred years.  Ooh what stories it could tell,  including standing witness to the tragic  

and deadly Trail of Tears route.
…

The oak it is a noble tree,
The monarch of the wood;
Through winter's storms a thousand years,
Its hardy trunk hath stood.

It is not stately, like the beech;

The elm more tall may be;

And gracefuller the lovely lime;

Yet 't is a noble tree.

 

An acorn, by a squirrel dropped

Amid a tuft of grass,

May be an oak, on which we look

With wonder as we pass.

 

But then it years, long years, must grow,

And this may teach to all,

What mighty things in after times

May come from means now small.

 

How little did they think who saw

A green oak sapling spring

In some old forest long ago,

That it would float a king!

 

 Perhaps some ancient Druid came

To pluck from it a bough;

'T is now a gallant ship—but he,

Where is that Druid now?

 

Perhaps an acorn from that tree

Dropped on his nameless grave,

And o'er it now in summer green'

Dark' tangled branches wave.

 

 How beautiful the oak's young leaves,

In the bright days of Spring;

Or, when a richer tint the skies

Of early autumn bring:

 

And all upon the dewy ground

The acorn-cups are laid,

Like richly chased spoons are they,

For fairy banquets made.

 

So, monarch of all forest trees,

On every English plain;

We crown thee still, thou brave old oak,

And long, long be thy reign!

 

      Ann Hawkshaw

Silent And Soft

Mother Nature threw down her blanket shortly after midnight last night, just in time for an arctic blast moving through the area.
Soft, wet snowflakes cocooning everything in sight.
The songbirds have once again retreated to their nests, in a world of silence.

🎵 With Love From Me To You

 

 

 

My wish for you.

Comfort on difficult days,

Smiles when sadness intrudes,

Rainbows to follow the clouds,

Laughter to kiss your lips,

Sunsets to warm your heart,

Hugs when spirits sag,

Beauty for your eyes to see,

Friendships to brighten your being,

Faith so that you can believe,

Confidence for when you doubt,

Courage to know yourself,

Patience to accept the truth,

Love to complete your life.

May your Valentine's Day be special !

{{hugs}}
x x

February Days

 

 

Our days have been filled with glorious sunshine.
The daffodils are shooting up from the ground, offering the promise of spring.
I tidied around the porches and fiddled in the potting shed yesterday, it's hard to stay cooped up when the sun is shining.
The laughter of school children could be heard, enjoying a few hours of playtime before darkness draws in.

Wishing you peace, in whatever little corner of the world, you call home.....

 

News From Gobbler's Knob

Rabbits have been making a show in the garden, nibbling on the new shoots of grass.

The songbirds are once again appearing , a good sign that life is beginning to awaken.
It appears that winter is not yet over, according to the legendary groundhog Punxsutawney Phil.
Six more weeks and hopefully we'll be well on our way to warmer days and blue skies.

 

 

Little Things That Make Me Smile

   "As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful."

                                                            ~ Laura Ingalis Wilder

 

 

  

Timeless Treasures

I have a fondness for English Staffordshire Ware.

One look at those pastoral village scenes, and I'm transported back to my grandmother's kitchen, where her cupboard displayed shelf upon shelf of these timeless treasures.

I can see the kitchen table covered in a freshly-starched embroidered tablecloth, the milk-jug sitting atop, awaiting the first of many pots of tea served throughout the day.

Treasured memories of gentler times........

 

 

 

One of my favorite collections are from the Alfred Meakin "Tintern" series.

I'm drawn to their bucolic scenes from years gone by.

 

 

"Come along inside ~ We'll see if tea and buns will make the world a better place."

~ Wind in the Willows

 

Silent And Soft

We awoke this morning to a winter wonderland.

Soft, wet snowflakes, blanketing the ground, cocooning us in a world of silence.
A gentle accumulation, it's as if Mother Nature took her powdered sugar shaker, and gave the landscape a sprinkling.
Magical.

 

 

 

Out of the cloud-folds of her garment shaken,

Over the woodlands, brown and bare

Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

~~By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.~~