Saturday, September 07, 2024

Wild Geese, reprised

 It’s time - these two poems capture so much for me, and every autumn I read them again. 



The Wild Geese

Wendell Berry, 1934-


Horseback on Sunday morning,

harvest over, we taste persimmon

and wild grape, sharp sweet

of summer’s end. In time’s maze

over fall fields, we name names

that went west from here, names

that rest on graves. We open

a persimmon seed to find the tree

that stands in promise,

pale, in the seed’s marrow.

Geese appear high over us,

pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,

as in love or sleep, holds

them to their way, clear,

in the ancient faith: what we need

is here. And we pray, not

for new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in heart, and in eye

clear. What we need is here.




Wild Geese

Mary Oliver, 1935-


You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Sunday, August 25, 2024

November Hill farm journal, 221

 The natives have taken over and the birds and insects love it! I’m taming things a little where needed, but here at summer’s downhill slide, leaving the things that serve this little/big ecosystem I live in. 



Whenever I glance out the windows there are birds flying by, insects wafting and hovering, and so much activity as they forage the native plantings. It’s a rich and vibrant ecosystem and there will be all winter to tidy things up. 

Thursday, August 22, 2024

November Hill farm journal, 220

 


On Sunday my grandchildren and I were watching with great delight this little spider wrapped around her two beautiful egg sacs outside the window. The dried leaf stem blew into the web that extended about 20 inches down from what you see in this photo. It was dangling by the stem down there, blowing in the mild breeze. 

When I woke up on Monday morning, she had brought the leaf stem up to her egg sacs and somehow turned it all the way around and positioned it so the curve of this leaf became a perfect shelter for her and the eggs. 

I don’t know how she did it but I take it as a metaphor for myself right now. It’s a little miracle that inspires. I can and I will provide safety, protection, and shelter for my children and my grandchildren. So much love. 

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

November Hill farm journal, 219

 


Hawk or owl? I am not sure but have been perusing feathers online this a.m. Either way, I love that this was front and center by the barn as the tree trimming was completed yesterday with not too much fanfare at all. The horses were aware but not fearful and I’m glad this particular event is behind us now.

The sun is out this morning, the air is cooler and less humid, and even the fact that my beds are full of weeds is not too daunting. I’m aiming to do a half hour a day and get them back in shape by Labor Day!

Figs are still plentiful and ripening each day, autumn-blooming flowers are beginning in the beds and landscape, and the early color dogwood is now blushing with orange all over. 

We had one honeybee colony abscond, which also happened last year this time, but our net gain means we still have 4 very active colonies. 

Life is full right now and some of the hard things are a wee bit less so this week. I’m gettng massage, chiro, and will soon be doing some therapy with EMDR which I am so very ready for. The main thing is this: I have done hard things, I can do them now. I am good at noticing the joy in small moments, the beauties in a day, and that is a very big part of moving through tough times. 

I feel the strong presence of my dad, whose strength and care is so helpful to me now, and I also feel the strength and security of Keil Bay, Salina, and my first horse Bo-Jinx, galloping circles of safety around my entire family. Just thinking of these supports in my life brings a deep healing breath to my body. 

When I do the online videos shared by Yoga With Adriene she often says: take the biggest breath you’ve taken all day. This is a great thing to do when things get hard, big, intense. When you read this, try it out! It helps so much. 

November Hill is breathing with me and that too is pure comfort. 

Friday, August 09, 2024

November Hill farm journal, 218

Channeling this peaceful day with dogs this week:


I hope everyone has made it through Debby, or is soon to be viewing Debby in the past tense! We have had, and are still having, much rain and a little wind. The farm is soggy and the skies are gray, but we have been lucky compared to those who have had tornados, power outages, and big trees down. 

Just before Debby came through we had “contracted by our electric co-op tree trimming crews” on the lane, and they destroyed our mailbox and dumped huge oak branches all the way down the front of our fence line, damaging the native shrubs I planted. That was bad enough, but the supervisor’s rude, verbally abusive behavior went way over the line, and I ended up on the phone with our electric co-op and the corporate headquarters of the contracted company, whose name I’ll share here in case you ever have to deal with them. Xylem Tree “Experts” is based in Virginia and send crews out to many states on behalf of the electric companies who hire them. 

Just remember, you have rights as a property owner and you can generally contact your state’s Utilities Commission to stop whatever it is they’re doing wrong. In the case of these contracted tree trimming crews, they themselves have no rights regarding your property. They don’t hold the rights of way, they have no claim to be on your property. If there is anything to be discussed, it’s between you and the power company itself, and your state’s Utilities Commission has the power to pause everything until something mutual can be worked out. 

The tree trimming crews that are contracted almost never live in the communities they’re working in, and they seem to generally be arrogant and rude when confronted. If this is upsetting, call 911. No worker has a right to intimidate you on your private property. 

The day they destroyed our mailbox and damaged shrugs, our co-op instructed them to leave and not to come back. We are scheduled to meet with our co-op person on Tuesday and he has assured me he will personally supervise the remaining work that needs to be done, with me or my husband also present. Note that the crew supervisor told me the day of the damage that he WOULD come back and that they WOULD finish the job. Um, no, you will not, and get out of my space.

I’m in contact with corporate offices to get reimbursed for their damage and have filed a complaint against this supervisor. 

In more pleasant news, we have a little birthday girl in the family this week. My granddaughter is now one year old! We’re excited to celebrate her and also her big brother, who told me yesterday that he wants to ride Little Man when he gets older. Little Man had chiro this week and had nothing other than a normal maintenance adjustment, which his vet said was pretty remarkable considering the kind of surgery he had. We are happy that he (and Cody too) are doing well. Next visit the donka boys get their turns. 

Here’s to summer sliding quietly into fall. 

And I must say it: I’m so very happy to have Kamala Harris and Tim Walz on the Democratic ticket for November. What an amazing voting experience this will be!