Saturday, June 30, 2012

Sun and Moon, Birds and Blooms

Ah, Ohio...what a week!

 We had sun

Moon 

Stars 

Squirrels, lol!

 
Cardinals


Sparrows 

Doves 

More sun 

Moon 

And Stars, oh my! 





And there are cows... 

Curious cows, staring at me... 

And corn, reaching, begging for rain 

Wheat straw being baled 

Flowers, wild 

And not so wild 

And more cows, shade, and sun 

 Moon

 Stars

 Pinky, our pet geranium!

 Rosie, our miniature, is blooming again!

 Volunteer heirloom tomatoes!

Bathing birds

 A bit testy in the heat

But relishing a cool bath!

Too much sun...

 My Ass thinks so...

 But our day lilies love it...


As do our daisies!

Meanwhile, the birds



 And the bees

Keep on keeping on

So do we...hope you enjoyed the pictures!

Sunday, June 10, 2012

A Hopeful Magpie


Still Life, 1670, detail by Jean Fran├žois de Le Motte

Into The Void

Gone…you were there one day,
The next, only generic ‘droid head
Like Miki uses sometimes
Just to be a social contrarian…

All you had shared, vanished…poof:
Words, images, so many months
Of you, evaporated in a click,
As if you had never been real…

But you were! You so very were…
Tucked away in my messages
You are still here…I can see you
In my mind’s eye as I read…

There are many kinds of love letters,
Those between my Heart and I
That are NOT for publication,
And those between kindred souls…

In archived notes, you my spirit sister
Still abide, invisible, present, always.
Someday new images will emerge,
New words, new hopes, new dreams.

Until that day, I keep the faith
And send prayers for peace into the void,
Trusting you to know this poem
Is one more way to say I care.


This is a Magpie Tale. To read more and/or participate, click here!

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Heroes



On the evening of June 5, 1944 (which was near moonless, unlike June 5, 2012), some 24,000 airborne troops from several nations and almost infinitely diverse backgrounds boarded aircraft for the flight across the English Channel, where they would either parachute or glide into enemy territory...the first wave of the Allied invasion of France. The survivors I've heard interviewed and read about didn't consider themselves particularly brave or heroic...they were doing what they had been trained to do, doing what they were told, and mostly believed, had to be done. We think of them after the fact as extraordinarily courageous, for they did things that to us seem so very extraordinary. Many of them lost their lives that night, while many others fought with such skill and ferocity that they became legends in their own time. Indeed, they became heroes. We hear the word "hero" a lot today. Politicians have made it yet another test of "patriotism"...refer to members of our military as anything other than heroes, and you lose votes. I suspect all this makes many of our service men and women a bit uncomfortable, though I am sure they appreciate the support. Actually, they deserve even more recognition and support than they get...they surely deserve more than hollow political rhetoric. I have the utmost respect for them, but that is not what I want to say to you today.

Supreme Allied Commander Dwight Eisenhower speaks to the 101st Airborne, June 5, 1944

What I wish to say is this: heroism is an everyday act. It does not require a war to be demonstrated. So many of you lead heroic lives. You face the unthinkable, and you move through it. I am surrounded by heroes, though, like those veterans of the airborne units, most of them would say they are not particularly heroic. But they were, and you are. I have dear friends, far and near, facing impossible situations...some of which are sadly familiar for The Bug and me, some of which are completely foreign to our experience. To them, I send my love, along with what grace and strength and light I can share. I hold them in my heart, and pray they find peace in their situations. How much courage does it take to step through any given door, whether it be a step into the night over enemy territory, a step into a doctor's office to hear dreaded news, a step into a hospital room, possibly to see a loved one for the last time, a step in a direction that one did not expect to be taking at such a time in life? I have so many friends who have stepped or are, or soon will be, stepping through such doors. For most of them, that step is an act of faith, even a leap into the unknown, but they do not consider it heroic. I beg to differ.