June 26, 2024

Is this spring; air sun-scorched and swollen, wet?
In this deep Southern climate
spiny cacti and spiky sago palms
thrive even with benign neglect,
but delicate flora
sea-blue hydrangeas and sunset-pink impatiens wilt,
thirst for daily attention.

Bird baths need cleaning and filling,
little pools to slake a songbird’s dry tongue
and cool its tiny body.

I weed and water, prune and pamper
gladly doing the work of the optimist
because she who gardens
must be an optimist:
one who believes
weeds will be conquered and
empty space will fill with fruit and flowers
in beautiful abundance.

With joy, the gardener soothes her aches
and cools an occasional sunburn,
small prices to pay
for the pleasure of digging dirt
in sweat soaked clothes,
trusting that growth is possible
and rain will wet the earth
if not today then tomorrow.

Tomorrow.
That is what a gardener grows.

May 15, 2024

April 15, 2024

When I taught nursing in a community college, my days started early and seemed endless. There were so many responsibilities, besides the obvious one of guiding young adults to become caregivers, that even my at home hours were filled with faculty obligations. I was always reading or writing something work related and longed for days when they, the reading and writing, would be purely for pleasure. I yearned for mornings when I could linger over a cup of hot tea in my pajamas, while watching gulls circle my sky and swans swim in my lagoon, instead of rushing to get to a college campus or a healthcare facility.

When the time came for me to leave my faculty position and move into my next chapter, I left the lagoon behind for an island where I continue to savor the smell of salt air and the call of gulls and other water birds. l still start my days early because there is new work to do. It is creative work done on my schedule without the constraints of someone else’s timetable. It is the kind of work I craved but never had time for when I wore a lab coat over business attire sporting a name tag with credentials and affiliations.

Now, in my home studio I paint pictures to sell, write pieces for my online journal, and read extensively about all things related to my creative pursuits. I can start or stop as I please. I’ve traded a lab coat for an apron, a name tag for color splatters, and business attire for jeans and a t-shirt. My new endeavors do seem less like work and more like pleasure but they also require a certain discipline on my part. Commissions have agreements and time frames to meet; so does my personal goal: publish one written piece with a companion painting every month on my website.

Mornings are gentler and slower now. I use them to ease into my day. I can linger in my pajamas with my cup of tea (maybe two) and use those moments for contemplation. Every morning as I watch the steam waft over the top of my cup, feel the warmth of the cup on my palms, and taste the earthy, brown brew I am grateful for the life I’ve made and thankful that I am able to fully enjoy it. Now that I’ve gotten to this part of my life, I refuse to rush through it, choosing instead to show up on time savoring every day and all the simple joys embedded in living.

March 19, 2024

Spring begins today, March 19, and like a March hare I have anticipated spring’s arrival with growing excitement. As the lean, cold, short days of winter recede, I feel the promise of days growing longer, warmer, and more voluptuous. All around my island home, marshes are greening, trees are leafing, and garden centers are bursting with color. Outside my door, orange blossoms sweeten the air; at the edge of my garden, in a nesting box, bluebirds serenade as they build their home. So like the March hare, I’m ready to be outside enjoying this first burst of seasonal change, this first taste of glorious spring, not with a March hare’s madness but the exuberance of inexorable joy.

February 16, 2024

I.

Fallow ground rests below earth-toned rocks,
bare, brown hydrangea branches stretch tall,
a few hearty geranium leaves cling to woody stems,
the bluebird box is vacant,
only the greens of paddle cacti and elephant ears,
the passing shadows of brown house sparrows,
mock the cold, the wind that lifts sand, an abrasive shiver.

It is said that the meek shall inherit the earth
so I cultivate patience in this winter pause
waiting for nature’s signs
that it is time to sow, and seed, and feed,
not rushing to break the season’s silence
with the arrogant noise of one who thinks
she is the force in charge of growing.

Instead,
I wait and dream of
spring days, the return of
tousled blue hydrangeas,
buoyant red geraniums and
eastern bluebirds building, nesting
and filling my space with their joyful song.

II.

And then, in the garden shop
on a faux-spring February day,
I see them,
blushing petals, coral-pink,
hugging a butter yellow center
full of juicy promise, these strawberry plants
ready to rehome, someplace outside my door.

There are herbs
oregano, sage, and thyme
heady with earthy scent and
lime green lettuce leaves
delicate and tender
promising flavor in sauces and salads
shared with family and friends.

So I buy them all
these harbingers of bounty
and beauty and the dutiful work of
digging in the dirt
when true spring arrives
with soft rain, sunny skies
and the promise of never being completely finished.

“For one’s health, it is very necessary to work in the garden and see the flowers growing.” Vincent Van Gogh

January 16, 2024

November 6, 2023

October 16, 2023

September 14, 2023

For me, the most important moments in life are often unplanned, personal interactions. I remember such a moment I shared with my infant daughter and recount that memory in the following poem. I painted the portrait attached to this journal entry, from a selfie my daughter took recently and shared with me. I used the selfie photo because I have no photo of the baby my daughter was at the moment described in the poem. Connecting the memory with the painting mixes the past and present in what I hope is a realistic and meaningful way.

She Laughed

A giggle really,
chubby legs and arms waving,
toothless, wet smile playing
on her lips, in her eyes.
That first time took me by surprise,
forever changed
a forgettable moment
of mundane motherly chores,
changing clothes and diaper
after her morning nap,
into one sweet memory
filled with attachment, closeness, joy.
The giggle split the moment
into a before and after
I remember like this:

Before she laughs:
nothing remarkable,
nothing to share,
gray.

After she laughs:
late morning sun warms,
gold,
early summer-scented breeze cools,
green,
I feel happy.
Then I laugh, too.

August 9, 2023

He seems wise for his age like he had to learn, earlier than most puppies would, a thing or two about survival. He is a large dog, not quite a year old, who sometimes behaves like the puppy he is and other times like the old man he will become one day. He was chosen for his new life because the owners he shared his old life with no longer wanted him, and his new owners had space for another dog, another family member in their pack. They found him on Craig’s list “free to a good home” and fell in love with his beautiful face and soulful eyes.

So the new family drove to another state, picked him up, and brought him home with them along with his worms, parasitic skin rash, and skinny frame. TJ’s physical needs were the easy fix, requiring proper food and a few vet visits for diagnosis and treatment. His fear and shyness are a different story; emotional needs that will take more time and attention to improve. Only consistent and unconditional patience, love, and kindness will heal TJ’s emotional scars, and help him learn to trust his new family and to feel safe in his new home.

TJ is learning a few new rules so he can live amicably with the others in his new family pack. The new family pack is also learning a few important lessons. With TJ, days and nights are different in mainly pleasant, sometimes unexpected ways. As TJ ages into his toddlerhood he, like any toddler needs frequent correction and a liberal use of the word no. TJ and his new pack are growing in tolerance and understanding of one another everyday. Because TJ is loved, he loves in return with hugs, and licks, and a deep desire to please. TJ is a rescue dog whose owners now understand that rescuing is a two way street; and that love often arrives on four paws.