Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Nature

Lulled by promises

Cold air rushes into the void gasping
Shaking rafters and startling trees
Grown soft in mild winter sunshine

Radiators crackle and pop
Kitty curls into a ball of white fur
Humidifiers bubble and sigh
Cars rush by with home on their minds

How cruel to be lulled by promises
Whispered yesterday beneath a balmy sky

No major winter warnings. Just a run of bitter cold weather this coming week. Maybe a bit of snow.

OK. I can’t help myself. Fake weather. That’s what it is! Don’t believe a thing you see, hear or feel. It’s a warm, sunny, beautiful day! Enjoy! 🙂

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 17 January 2020
Photo of Smudge hibernating taken by DAFraser, Winter 2014

When aspens sing

When aspens sing
Hearts dance
And skip a beat
Rejoicing

A young deer
Peers through trunks
Upright
Gleaming

Quaking leaves
Tremble in harmony
Golden tones
Rustling

Feeling my way along
I peer down a fork in the road
Considering my options
Renewed

Changing of the year? Maybe.

The young deer reminds me of Aslan quietly appearing in the forest. How willing am I to follow the lead of a young deer, or an older lion? The magnitude of choices offered each day is overwhelming.

I want to make it through the forest this year. If not unscathed, then stronger than I was at the beginning. Grateful for eyes in the forest watching over me, traveling with me no matter which fork I take.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 January 2020
Photo of mule deer found at pinterest.com

Tell me tell me | Emily BrontĂ«

Here’s a Monday poem from our other Emily. My comments follow.

Tell me tell me

Tell me tell me smiling child
What the past is like to thee?
An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully

Tell me what is the present hour?
A green and flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its power
To mount and fly away

And what is the future happy one?
A sea beneath a cloudless sun
A mighty glorious dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity

From selected poems of Emily Brontë, p. 28
Published in Everyman’s Library by Alfred A. Knopf, 1996
© 1996 by David Campbell Publishers Ltd., sixth printing

In this little poem, Emily BrontĂ« asks and answers three questions, each from her childhood point of view. Emily was the 5th of 6 children. She was 3 years old when her mother died of cancer. I don’t know what age she had in mind when she wrote the poem.

The first stanza is about her past. I’m surprised she’s smiling. Yes, the answer points to a lovely ending to a beautiful Autumn day. At the same time, she hears the sound of mourning, already in the air. Winter is coming.

The second stanza is about the present (her childhood present). I’m not sure whether the ‘spray’ is water, or the combined effect of leaves and flowers shooting up from the ground. Perhaps she’s in a meadow or beside the sea (which appears in the final stanza). In either case, a young bird is getting ready to leave the nest and fly away. No hint of mourning in the air.

The third stanza is about the future. By now (in the poem), the child is happy. No hints of mourning, regrets, or the agonies of adult life. And yet this seems the most painful stanza of all despite its happy ending. Perhaps it’s a small window into the hoped-for trajectory of Emily BrontĂ«’s life, and a cautionary note?

I identify with this childhood dream. Once I flew the nest, I believed all would be well. Even the ‘small’ bumps in the road would, in the end, seem like nothing. Little did I know….

And yet this poem isn’t morose. It invites me to remember and hold close my childhood dreams. Not all will come true. Yet there’s that “mighty glorious dazzling sea stretching into infinity.” Who knows what yet will be? In life or in death.

Cheers!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 11 January 2020
Photo found at wickipedia.org

Landscape | Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver’s daily walk around the pond offers a small sermon of sorts. My comments follow.

Isn’t it plain the sheets of moss, except that
they have no tongues, could lecture
all day if they wanted about

spiritual patience? Isn’t it clear
the black oaks along the path are standing
as though they were the most fragile of flowers?

Every morning I walk like this around
the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
ever close, I am as good as dead.

Every morning, so far, I’m alive. And now
the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
and burst up into the sky—as though

all night they had thought of what they would like
their lives to be, and imagined
their strong, thick wings.

c. 1992, Mary Oliver
New and Selected Poems, Volume One, p. 129
Published by Beacon Press

Imagine you’re part of a sheet of moss covering the ground. Often small and unassuming except to students of mosses. Some might say you’re hardly worth noticing, even though the pond and the woods wouldn’t be what they are without your patient presence. Doing what you do best.

Or maybe you’re one of those towering black oaks offering food and shelter, in life and in death, to birds and small animals. Part of an ecosystem as fragile and beautiful as spring flowers.

Does nature have a heart? Mary suggests the crows have been thinking all night about the kind of lives they would like to live. Perhaps imagining “their strong, thick wings” and then bursting into flight at daybreak. Doing with gusto what they’ve already imagined they might do.

Life isn’t simply about the way we imagine ourselves. It’s also about keeping the doors of our hearts open, and going for it every day of our lives. Welcoming each day no matter what it brings. Doing what we do best, with spiritual patience, fragile humility, and hearty gusto.

Looking to the New Year, I want the doors of my heart to be open—no matter what each day brings. I know it’s a tall order. If it weren’t, it wouldn’t be worth much, would it?

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 30 December 2019
Photo found at etsy.com

Mesmerized

Living within my means
Stretches patience
To the breaking point
I want to fly high
Visit exotic places
And creatures beneath
Blue-green waters teeming
With bits of plankton
And luxurious seaweed
floating upward on
Wings like doves
Reaching for stars
In that great canopy
Above and beyond
Our understanding
Mesmerized

These days living within my means isn’t chiefly about income. It’s about physical reserves. The kind that run out a bit each day, sometimes scarcely noticeable.

And then there are other days, of which this is one. A day when my spirit goes soaring off to parts unknown. Leaving me virtually breathless in mind and body. Caught up in other times and places.

Hoping your Monday is mesmerizing!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 December 2019
Photo of New Zealand Seaweed Garden and Plankton found at dissolve.com

Vintage roses bloom

A gutter babbles
Outside my window
Steady and earnest

Sound of water’s
Erratic counterpoint
Splashes on tires

Snowflakes
Fat and sluggish
Drift from heaven

There’s a chill
In the air today
Invasive and bracing

Soaking through
Layers of clothes
And long woolen mittens

Music dances
Inside my heart
Vintage roses bloom

Happy Monday to each of you!

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 2 December 2019
Vintage Roses wallpaper found at apkpure.com

Graceful living | Photos

Graceful living meets death
With or without prying eyes
Spotlights or drum rolls

Transformed into works of art
Unseen before their time
Each twist and shadow
A hint of life to come

Visible only to travelers
Who pause to witness
The miracle of life renewed
In countless deaths

Breath tripping over wonder
The camera captures moments
Never to be repeated


© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 November 2019

Photos taken by DAFraser, November 2016, while we were hiking in the hills above Glen Eyrie Conference Center in Colorado 

hoard of robins | Happy Monday!

hoard of robins
juicy holly berries
bright morning feast
scramble for preferred seats
squawks of indignation

As heard and seen on my early morning walk, along with

  • hoards of kindergarten students shrieking in the playground
  • a friendly dog walker with friendly dogs
  • my first sighting of a presidential election campaign bumper sticker
  • wasted acorns languishing on the sides of the road
  • autumn leaves piled up in a large trampoline with no visible way of escape
  • grade school children on a run-and-shriek-it-all-out-of-your-system break
  • and a handful of gorgeous autumn leaves still hanging on

If you watch the video above, you’ll need to supply your own squawks of indignation!

Hoping your Monday is/was happily filled with unexpected beauty.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 November 2019
Video of Robins in Portland, Oregon found on YouTube

Late autumn breezes

Sun drops quickly
Through shades of early evening
Children’s voices fade
Behind chill autumn breezes
Hearts beat steady
Determined to reach finish lines
Before ice cold winter
Chases us inside out
And back again
Clutching jackets and memories
For another day

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 November 2019
Wind of Change painting found at artworkbylena.com

Waiting patiently . . .

Waiting patiently
On my back
Clothed in the same
Blue gown they gave me
On my last visit
I pass the time of day
Searching for the
Least medicinal
Prop in this
Antiseptic space
Adorned with trifles
Like boxes of throw-away
Vinyl/non-vinyl gloves plus
Hazardous Trash receptacles
For dangerous substances

Suddenly I see it
Off to my right side
Hanging on the wall
A hazy pastel depiction
Of a perfect summer day

Somewhere in paradise
Blue air floats above
A small tree-covered
Island in the distance
A stream flows
Past a sweetly perfect
Cottage for one or two
Flowers in light pink and yellow
Blossom in a small garden
Lush green grass invites me to
Rest on my back
Taking in the imagined
Sounds and fragrance
Of a perfect summer day

I wrote this after returning from a long day at my heart doctor’s office. A good day, in the end. And long.

I’m always interested in art work hanging in doctor’s offices. Most often it’s a beautiful nature scene chosen to engender a peaceful, relaxed state of mind and body. No, the image above is not what I saw in my doctor’s office. Definitely a cut or two above it. Nonetheless….

I got home rather late, took a lovely walk in cold drizzly air, and then wrote the above. Not to be sentimental, but this time I took the medicinal art work as an invitation to practice deep breathing and relaxation. A handy skill, especially when I’m lying on my back, unable to jump up and leave, no matter who walks through the door!

Now it’s Tuesday, so I bid you Happy Tuesday, and hope it’s even better than your Monday turned out to be!

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 November 2019
Pastel Painting of Cottage Garden by Kathleen Kalanowski found at pinterest.com

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