Spring – Theme Friday

And out of the ashes, Spring has sprung. The fire that savaged and left my beloved hills scarred and black is now but a smoky memory…

Boasting fragile green under the spring sky, the hills are again alive.

I stand in the midsts  of new birth, rebirth and all things green. From tender leaves on saplings to fresh blades of virgin grass.

Creatures and local denizen come out of hiding and run along backyard walls, twitching bushy tails and scanning for crusts and peanut shells. Or take for the sky to revel the green below—settling on branches to sing their springtime ditties.

And now there lives a singing tree—that serenades me nightly as the sun saunters away from day and the moon moves in with silver light.

Jasmine blooms open and perfume the air in sweet repose as feathered friends tuck in the kiddies for the night. I hear them wooing their babies to sleep with chirps-twitters-fluttering wings. The magical tree safely ensconses the tiny warblers in dense foilage—keeping out bullies, making the world safe for babies not yet ready to fly.

copyright 2010

Christine has found spring too

The Weather Outside…

It’s official, I live on the East Coast. Yesterday after we dragged ourselves home from another endless day of packing and dragging and moving a little chill crawled into the air. “Nippy,” I thought and went on about my business. Then the next thing I knew I was being asked for my car keys so the car could be moved under the carport, lest the snow get all piled up on it, don’t you know?

Snow? Wait a minute. Now what happened to that thing you said, “It doesn’t really get all that cold here (thanks to global warming) …maybe some rain…” Uh-huh, I thought, duped again. As you can well imagine, having come from southern California my idea of warm clothes would include a somewhat heavy cardigan sweater, a parka and scarf – oh yeah, I brought a couple pair of gloves too. Suddenly I’m thinking about hats and boots and corduroy – possibly even velvet. Yikes, me in velvet, perish the thought.

The fact that it has been literally decades since I have lived in snow country (albeit much worse than this) and in all honesty have never driven in snow (except for that stupid drivers ed. course in high school which is but a dull memory now) does kind of diminish my enthusiasm for the sparkly white stuff a bit. I have visions of slip-sliding all over the road or driving so slow that the already impatient drivers in this town will be laying on their horns non-stop as I toddle my way down the avenue.

On the other hand, it is rather pretty to see everything kind of frosted and sparkly with snow and does remind me of childhood and certainly seems more Christmas-y than 80 degrees and flip flops – so it’s a mixed bag I guess. I was hoping I’d get the rest of my bulbs in before it snowed but the weather man says it won’t last so maybe I’ll luck out and will be able to get those puppies in next week before some bizarre blizzard or something hits us here in pretty town, usa.

Hopefully there won’t be anymore today though – we are back on moving duty, which thus far is endless. I wonder if we will ever get to the bottom of all the stuff in the old apartment. I’m not exactly the moving brute type and my wrists and ankles feel like they are going to just snap sometimes – oh well, what we do for love.

Have a nice Sunday, guys.

Cha-Cha-Changes…

I don’t know about you but I hate change and yet I love it. I love the newness and the excitement and honestly the whole mystery of it. What will it be like, where will I go, who will I meet, what will I see? On the other hand, being the lazy slug that I am, I hate changing anything – sometimes I don’t even change out of my pajamas, especially if it’s cold and the coffee is good and I get involved in something…I can go days just sitting in front of my computer. It’s pathetic really, I didn’t even know who’d been elected until Roomie came home and blurted it out before I could stop him. So see we have your classic love/hate relationship going on with change here.

So what is that all about? Is it simply comfort? We get comfortable with where/how things are and are loathe to alter things because we might have to actually put on our shoes or brush our teeth? Talk to another human being? Have I (we) become incurable couch potatoes? In my case, I suppose the answer would be yes, typically.

However, if I really think about it, this entire year has been all about change for me. Which could account for all my whining and sissy-assed behavior. Things that I always thought would be the same, weren’t. The unthinkable happened to someone I dearly love. Wonderful, surprising things happened that I never could have guessed in a thousand years or believed had someone told me it was going to happen. But more than anything my outlook has changed, it’s definitely more positive and filled with much hope and joy for the future. There is a whole lot more activity going on in the old gray matter – which has sort of had the affect of making me seem like Rain Man’s older sister or something. I laugh a lot more and smile a lot more. Which is really pretty amazing when I consider that a few months ago things seemed awfully glum, terribly sad and even hopeless.

So perhaps I have become an advocate for change. Not just for the sake of the change, I mean I could rearrange the furniture for that – but for new things, good things.

I know most of you are probably scratching your heads and thinking, ‘wtf is she talking about?’ that’s okay too. Maybe I’m just thinking out loud. Bottom line is that one thing, one incident can change everything and maybe that’s the way it’s meant to be. If you ask, it is.

How about you, any good changes happening for you?

Autumn – Theme Fridays

Emma brought her coffee to the livingroom, turned on the old stereo and carefully placed the needle down on the LP. Her heart rose with the violins as the music began to play. The Autumn leaves...

She drifted to the window and looked out at the old sycamore, bent and reaching toward the sky in all directions, crowned with gold, amber, crimson, russet and topaz. A gust of wind came up, rattled the window and danced the fallen leaves across the lawn. The music continued to play and rose the flesh on Emma’s arms. And it took her back to him and them and all their many years. David’s eyes were blue and bright in the sun that he loved, his black hair shone like an obsidian miracle always wore an impish smile that teased out of tanned face. Happy to pull at weeds and coax the lawn to grow, which never did no matter how many tools or potions he took to it.

Emma put her hand to the window, as though David’s was there on the other side, touching back. Reassuring her that he was there and all was well. And the ghost of him smiled for an instant before the wind rose up again and shimmied the sycamore into involuntary trembles.

The music ended and Emma went again and placed the needle carefully down to bring back the music and loosen the squeeze in her chest. David held her in his arms and they danced in the dark, the music leading them, love guiding them. And he tugged at her hair and smacked her behind and they laughed. They argued politics and secretly read each other’s books. When Katie came along it made them a family, bonding them in ways they could never fathom before her entrance into their lives.

“Don’t give your child beer, you mad man!” Emma chided.

David shrugged. “A little taste won’t hurt her.”

The little house on Manhattan Street with the blue shutters and screen door that never closed properly no matter how many times David wielded his toolbelt. The old oak table they found at the side of the road and worked weeks sanding it, smoothing it, rubbing oil into it. This house they were so proud to buy, to nurture to fix up with paint and nails, new windows and rosebushes.

Every moment they spent, every adventure, every tear, every joy they had, stood with her at the window and watched the Autumn leaves swirl as the music played.

VISIT CHRISTINE’S AUTUMN