A beautiful day in the neighborhood

I went out because the clouds and sky were glorious but the colors of spring are mysterious and fugitive. Tonight I went out to the car because I’d left my snack out there uneaten. I sat there and ate it, pear juice all over my face and hands while I watched the birds at the feeder.

Controlled time is our true wealth.
— Buckminster Fuller

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Six

Grey and rainy. Well, beyond rainy: hosing down rain and grapple and hail. Went to Hand Hollow and caught a glimpse of the same bit of heron head in the nest. It is hunkered down probably wishing it had a roof! Had to rummage some for a poem idea. I think we’re all about here now. I did manage to slap some Krazy Glue on my computer glasses this morning. And I did mess around with gouache while watching for the heron. It worked ok, but I didn’t have much of a plan going so the contrast and spacing isn’t all there. But hey, that’s what a sketchbook’s for right? trying things out? capturing things? OK here’s a poem.

Things I could have done
Should have done, must do
even those I’d like to do, well,
I stand in the quiet house
and they gather all around me
follow me down the hall
but I’m out the door
and down the steps before
any of them can grab me
not by the wrist or ankle or hem
I’m gone to who knows where
I sure don’t know or why but
today it is just not any of that.
And likely to be nothing at all.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Six

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Five

I laughed at myself for writing out a postcard with this and then realizing tomorrow’s Sunday so of course no mail, but then I almost forgot that the interwebs is still open for business as normal. It was a beautiful day here and so I went out and painted, gradually reducing the layers I was wearing. Then I had a grocery pickup and discovered I had a cotton shirt in my car so I changed when I got to Mom’s with the shopping.

The daffodils have risen
up to the bird feeder
as May approaches;
the sky is full
of yellow fluttering.
A theory of them
being there year-round
and leaping up
to meet the spring
so elegant and yet
each year met with
my joyful surprise.

Perseverance is a great element of success. If you knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Five

NaPoWriMo – Day 24

It was another rainy cold day and again the sun came out again at sunset time. No big sunset or anything, just sun and not much time to enjoy it. Well perhaps it’s part of the plan to keep us home and self-isolating.

Truth be told, this poem was twice as long as I wrote it and sent it off, but I remain unconvinced about the second half but felt pretty good about this half so here you go. Afterwards a few photos, one from yesterday and three from today.

I imagined a survey asking how I felt:
politically hopeless
but my painting is going well.
Because, frankly, we’re messy
all of us and all of this
so if I’m speaking honestly
if not to you then to myself
(that is what you’re wanting, right?)
I can truthfully admit
yes, I was dressed for that
online meeting but my hair
was uncombed and I
wanted to finish my oatmeal
so I kept it audio-only.

We become what we think about all day long. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

NaPoWriMo – Day 24

NaPoWriMo – Day 11

The mail brought a postcard and the NaPoWriMo prompt brought a link to a lovely archived version of Kate Greenaway’s Language of Flowers. Lovely indeed and a welcome diversion on this cold April morning.

I looked up the meaning of forsythia
hoping to write a poem for you.
The only things in bloom here
right now are maple, forsythia and
of course daffodils.
But, according to my book,
the bright and bobbing flowers
in the front garden mean “regard”
and the hills of maple now a-blush
stands in for “reserve”
which seem like such a
Brontë-ish bouquet –
much room for misunderstanding
and resulting hilarity or tears.
Forsythia though, didn’t make the list.
Looking up other names
brought me to flowering olive
also not in the translations, and
Easter tree, while fitting in the
calendar, didn’t earn a second look.
So I gave up the old resource and
did what I had to do and googled it
and was told by several sources that
forsythia, being an early flower,
means “anticipation”
Since we are all guilty of looking
every time we pass, hoping for
that tell-tale yellow budding
I’ll accept this. And hope you
will accept my child’s fistful of
sunshiny anticipation and regard
on this chilly April morning.

Daffodils and Mailbox

From the quote box:

He who enjoys doing and enjoys what he has done is happy. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

NaPoWriMo – Day 11

Other things seen today

Daffodils seem extra exuberant and much appreciated this year!

and then the hills, with clouds:

Other things seen today

World Watercolor Month Day #30

It was apparently too hot to blog yesterday although I did sit outside and then inside to paint. That was about all I did, LOL. Sat outside in the warm morning

Painted this:

and doodled a bit inside and then painted from the previous day’s photos”

World Watercolor Month Day #30