Marsha at Always Write is hosting Sunday Stills this week, where our prompt is “Emerging.” So appropriate for Spring. Here in the Black Hills, we are still waiting for Spring patiently, ummm… with hopeful hearts … oh c’mon already. So here’s a little emerging tale from my archives and a few current shots as well.
Through the silent winter the world deeply slumbers emerging in the spring I find everything is different and yet everything’s the same
Spring is slowly emerging from the frozen Winter, here annuals beginning to pop up in the flower beds, ready to start a new season.
Things bloom late in this part of the country but when they do, oh my. The world quickly become a cacophony of sight and scent as the flowers compete for attention.
Here a shot from the high deserts of Utah, as succulents wriggle their way out of a crack in the stones. A classic example of “bloom where you are planted.”
And finally, a tiny sand crab emerging from his hidey hole on the beach in Kapaa, Hawaii
That’s it for this week, here at Chez Spoons, we wait for Spring to emerge from Winter’s cold embrace.
Greetings fellow Spoonies and other sentient beings to my contribution for Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Natalie. I got my second Covid vaccine injection last week. Wiped me out for a few days but, all in all, I think it’s worth it, especially now that I’m feeling human again.
If we were having coffee, I’d brag that we started Spring cleaning, clearing out the last (hopefully) remnants of Winter.
Above a shot of the back of our media cabinet. You can see several inches of frost along the top and corner. Those 10+ days below zero did a number on our little home. That’s one of the things about being a full-time RVing Spoonie, you’ve got to pick your battles. We do everything we can think of to keep our place warm (skirts around the base, plastic overlay on the windows, etc.) but honestly, RV’s are just not designed for extreme weather. We did fine, no busted pipes or anything but there was a good deal of set up and crisis management involved, such as several days without water due to the heated water hose freezing up.
And, of course, I’d have to tell you about the weather. The cold has departed, being replaced by the winds that are common here in the Black Hills leaving the skies bright blue with little wispy clouds. My personal harbinger of Spring.
The grass is greening, the snow is gone, Spring has sprung.
Flowering annuals are poping up, campers are arriving and it looks like it’s going to be a wild ride this summer.
On the health front the dyshidrotic eczema blisters on my feet are improving enough that I’ve gotten out for short walks most days and my yoga routine adaptations (to not use feet) are coming along nicely. Spring vegetables are slowly showing up in our local coop and the farmers market should be opening soon. The local produce is still of the “hoop house” variety as we will likely have more snow sometime this month, but we are hoping for the best. I did get a bunch of gorgeous radishes and asparagus which I must say are definitely at their peak right now. Hoop house, hothouse, or ITG (In The Ground), they taste great after a winter of mostly frozen produce.
I’d talk about next week, which includes 4 medical appointments and one maintenance appointment to get new tires on the car, total of 5 appointments in 5 days. Yep, that is what it means to be a Spoonie, the “human pincushion” thing. I’d share that BIL #1 (the one with Covid) developed pneumonia and got an infusion of antibodies. He is doing much better, thank goodness.
I would undoubtedly whine a bit about the looming tax deadline and kids and grandkids who still expect me to have the answers to anything tax related. But then, I’d wax rhapsodic about the simple joy of watching the robins and rabbits in the yard. Come Spring, and welcome, bring your light to gently wake us from Winter’s slumber.
Marsha is hosting for Terri’s Sunday Stills for a couple of weeks, do pop over and get some great cat advice — mrrrow ;-).
Here’s the thing, I don’t have cats, or dogs, or mice, or birds. In fact, I have no pets at all. Our lifestyle doesn’t work well for pets, we’re out of the country most years, sometimes for months at a time. My last feline friend passed away in 2003 at the age of 19. The only pictures I have are hard copies, packed away. That said, I did find a shot on pinterest that is an exact duplicate of my Fluffy Cat, and I totally get the sentiment.
A long haired tortoise shell with just a dappling of white. She was beautiful, and teeny tiny. She weighed just 6 lbs beneath the deep fluff.
Cats have played an important role in history since the time of the ancient Egyptians. Bastet and Sekhmet are probably the most widely recognized of the cat headed goddesses. Cats were revered as gods and represented justice, fertility and power. Cats have never forgotten this. Ask anyone with cats and you will undoubtedly discover that no one “owns” a cat. Mysticism surrounds them and humans still immortalize them.
In modern times, we still pay homage to our feline friends, here a pair of Maneki-neko or “Happy Cats” in an underground mall in Osaka, Japan. The picture is a bit fuzzy as the statues were in a lighted glass enclosure. Carved from variegated marble reminiscent of the calico coloring.
We immortalize them in statues, in cuddly toys, in cartoons, and in food. Here the Hello Kitty Cafe in Kyoto, Japan.
And or course no tale of the immortal cat would be complete without Tom Jones’ classic.
Natalie is our host for weekend coffee share where we all gather for a virtual cuppa and chat about our week.
If we were having coffee today, we’d be having it inside. Looking out the window at the sunshine, and the graupel (tiny snow pellets) falling right through the sunshine. The remains of our last snow storm have pretty well melted in the warm sunny days this week, we started off with lots of icicles from the slow thaws freezing again over night.
Snow covered bush that began to thaw and froze into icicles overnight
Inevitably, talk would turn to Covid. I got my second vaccination this week and I must say it’s hit me harder than the first one. I took the Pfizer (2 doses 3 weeks apart) vaccine and should be clear in another 10 days +- as it takes 2 weeks for maximum effectiveness. I have no illusions, I know it may well not prevent me from contracting the Covid-19 virus. It should, however, dramatically reduce my odds of hospitalization or death so I figure it’s worth the annoyance of symptoms for a few days.
Since we’re talking about Covid, I’ll mention the domino effect of exposure. My dear brother-in-law has contracted the virus. Talked to him on the phone and he sounds dreadful, first domino tips. Brother-in-law # 2 has been diagnosed with cancer and was scheduled for surgery this week. Due to potential exposure from a close relative, they have postponed his surgery for 3 weeks, there goes second domino. We had a trip planned for mid-April, but since BIL #1 will be recovering, BIL #2 will be in post-surgical quarantine, we’ve decided to postpone the trip for a few more weeks. Third domino …. splattt.
Dusk here at Hart Ranch, snow mostly gone (for now).
Life goes on much as it has this past year, groceries are bought on-line or sometimes in-store. We deal with chronic illness, and we carry on. I try to spend some time each day, looking for the beauty of the day. This morning the sun was shining prettily so Superhubs and I took off for town, picked up a few items at our local health food coop, got lunch at a drive thru and went to the park for lunch. It’s cool and windy enough that we ate in the car, but it was still awesome to get out of the house. You see, there is beauty to be found in even the dullest of days so look for it. And if you don’t see anything beautiful, look again. And if you still don’t see it, look harder.
A potted plant, with a tiny bloom, and a wee bitty butterfly outside a factory in Taichung, Taiwan. Sometimes you have to really look to see it.
Laura is our host for dVerse poetics this week asking us for a poem based on paintings, or the titles of paintings. Do visit the pub for all the fascinating details.
I must say this was fun and challenging. I chose “Convergence” by Jackson Pollock and started with a painterly poem based on the title, an attempt to paint for you the vision I see when I think about “convergence.” Then, when I looked up the actual artwork, the words came out much different even though (for me) the feeling was the same. I should have expected the unexpected from Pollock’s work. I must say, I see much stargazing in my future because of this prompt so thank you ever so much Laura.
Convergence Part 1 — a painterly poem
convergence of planets align on a starry night leaning back on my elbows watching the indigo sky devolve into the stars of Orion the new moon rises in Gemini your lips graze my throat draws a shuddering breath you point out Betelgeuse, a red star burning bright, and Rigel steadfast and true your arm wraps around me as I shiver, stealing warmth from your body against the night air expectantly, I breathe you in and exhale into your kiss let the convergence begin
Convergence Part 2 an ekphrastic poem
Lines converge in distant galaxies harsh black and white splashes of red and gold Orion Nebula filled with gaseous debris, vapors and mist kiss of the heavens strength of the eons womb of the stars
For Sunday Stills our monthly color prompt is “spring green.” Now I’ll be the first to admit that I’m more of an Autumn foliage photographer. Honestly, not a lot blooms or grows or gets green up here until sometime in April. Once again, photo archives to the rescue. The images that follow all evoke that feeling of Spring Green for me.
Love of a Leaf
Do not love me as a flower it’s easy to love a flower all heady aroma and beauty that quickly fades and dies
Love me as a leaf challenging, extraordinary plain, simple and strong holding tight when winds blow
Bleeding Hearts little ground level eye candy. I love the profusion of little leaves just emerging.
Coconuts Oahu, Hawaii Yes that is what a coconut actually looks like before it is harvested and shucked. When they reach maturity, they often become heavy and fall to the ground. Which can be dangerous when you’re busy snapping photos or walking down the path. Most often, the coconuts are removed from trees in “tourist” areas to avoid such unfortunate encounters with gravity, so I was really happy to be able to snap this shot.
Wild flowers in a crack in a boulder near Devils Tower, Wyoming. The beauty of Life is everywhere, you have but to open your eyes to see it.
A Lace Leaf Japanese Maple, at Queens Garden, Invercargill, NZ. I adore Japanese Maples, so delicate and gentle. I had them at my house in Kentucky and have seen many exceptional specimens in Kyoto Japan. Imagine, a Japanese Maple in, of all places, Japan.
Water Lilies Suzhou, China. I love water lilies, always have. We had them in our fish ponds in the house where I grew up. The lily pads are exquisite, long after the flowers have faded.
Unidentified yellow flower spike in Taichung, Taiwan. I love the way the leaves change as the plant grows. I have no clue what the plant is, but I love the vibrant green. btw, if you recognize the plant, let me know in the comments, my curiosity is peaked but no one in our party knew.
Kim is our host for Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub, “the challenge is to write a metaphor poem that starts with the words ‘This being human is…’ You can compare being human to anything you want: a building or place, an object, something natural or something manufactured, a ritual or an everyday act. It is up to you to explore whatever it is in your poem.”
Humanity of Trees
This being human is a tree rooted deep within the earth yet reaching toward the sky drinking in the sunshine and pondering the eternal mystery of the moon and stars and our own humanity one tree with many branches each with thousands of leaves that sway and dance with the wind offering shade and shelter to all who seek respite, a quantum of solace and renewal always growing, always changing the wisdom of the seasons leaves that fade and fall in a flurry of color breathtaking reminders of the beauty of letting go this being human is… beautiful