IV

Menelya ~ Wednesday

Summer afternoon - summer afternoon,
to me those have always been
the two most beautiful words in the English language.
~ Henry James

sky

The very season which is always pregnant with promises and renewed energy, has become a time of desiring only to lay on my back on soft green grass, under a large tree. Just the thought of staring up through a pattern of lushness to a blue sky laden with fluffy white clouds, sends me into a dreamy daze. I love to lay on my back, looking up through a leafy canopy, and watch the light streaming through my outstretched toes. While putting my feet straight up into the air, spreading my toes, and wiggling them at the same time (a feat accomplished by much practice, mind you), I love to try to catch sunbeams that are playing hide and seek with the moving leaves. It has been said by the wisest among us that if one can pinch a sunbeam, suddenly a winged creature will appear, and tumble down off the beam with giggling delight. Yes, I have heard it said that fairies actually do ride sunbeams. This is true, is it not?

Summer days are made for slow meandering, riding my bike and enjoying the cool breeze upon my face. There is such freedom and happiness in allowing my spirit to fly along side, as I pedal off to unknown destinations. Usually, I carry my camera with me and catch illustrations to my whims. Often times, when addressed, my eyes glaze over and my mind floats off into dreamy world that only the fairies and I can perceive. Summer is truly a season to slow down and dwaddle.

Perhaps this is a time for dreaming.....ooops.....planning, important things. Things that can be implemented in the colder months. Are not the highest placed among us, always having planning sessions? Why, I have known of large companies sending their hierarchy off to great resorts just so they can plan. Oh how blessed I am that I can do the very same thing, flat on my back, while trying to knock fairies off of sunbeams. And all this can be done not five minutes from my abode, in a park, under a large tree....for free!

May you find pure bliss in your planning (dreaming) ~ Tasarwen

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III

Isilya ~ Monday

Living in a land of such contrasts always amazes me. Just a few days ago, I was walking in two inches of slushy snow, with wind and snow blowing into my face. Today, I am sitting in my favorite coffee shop wearing shorts and sandals. My bike is parked outside and the day is glorious. There is a bowl of deep blue sky covering my valley from horizon to horizon and the mountains sweep up from many colors of green to the purest of white. They have the appearance of deep ocean waves topped with white foam.

The bright greens of early spring have given way to the deep, lush greens of summer. For me it is a season to breathe in the warm, fragrant air of a time of fullness. Life is much simpler and even the most trying of times float past with ease. I feel cushioned and protected by a vibrancy of life that is not evidenced in any other time of the year. It is such a joy to relax and simply allow myself to slide into each day, watching it pass slowly by and finding myself drifting along, relishing each moment.

This time of the year, I always transcend from a time of busyness into a time of laziness. If I am not working on Photoshop projects or studying CSS and Dreamweaver, I am madly learning new music on my harp. These days, all I desire is to sit outside on the front porch steps and dream.

In the hush of the valley of silence
I dream all the songs that I sing;
And the music floats down the dim valley,
Till each finds a word for a wing.
That to hearts, like the dove of the deluge,
A message of peace they may bring.

But far on the deep there are billows
That never shall break on the beach;
And I have heard songs in the silence
That never shall float into speech;
And I have had dreams in the valley
Too lofty for language to reach.

And I have seen thoughts in the valley–
Ah me, how my spirit was stirred!
And they wear holy veils on their faces.
Their footsteps can scarcely be heard;
They pass through the valley like virgins,
Too pure for the touch of a word.

Do you ask me that place of the valley,
Ye hearts that are harrowed by care?
It lieth afar between mountains,
And God and His angels are there:
One is the dark mountain of sorrow,
And one the bright mountain of prayer.
Author Unknown

May you enjoy the luxury of drifting and dreaming ~ Tasarwen

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II

Isilya ~ Monday

I love Sunday mornings. Often I sit in my bed, sipping the first coffee of the day, listening to the birds singing along with the melody of rain dripping through the down spouts. My mind wonders from the past and into the future, unvariably settling somewhere in between. Because there is more of my life behind me than ahead of me, I tend to linger in the mists of my memory. Just this morning, I have been thinking about my grandmother. She passed from our shores just before my eleventh birthday, but I remember her well. She was highly educated and after marrying my grandfather, she shared the experiences of living on a wheat farm and raising six children with him. It was a very hard life but it must have been rewarding to be able to live off the land and be self sustaining.

Images pass through my mind about her...the pickled beets she always made just for me, her love of hollyhocks, and her ability to bake wonderful pies. Of her personality, I remember little, but her ability to drive a Model A through downtown Billings, Montana, I remember well. The sound of the clutch hitting the floor (several times because one had to “double-clutch” back in those days), and the authoritative way she controlled that car, has always stuck with me. Methinks that had something to do with her personality. I have heard that she was a mean spirited person. However, she was always very kind to me. Perhaps being the first grandchild had something to do with it but I prefer to think that she just liked me for whom I was.

So many times I have heard others say that they can still remember the smells or sounds associated with their grandparents’ old houses, gardens, or garages. Having fond memories of grandparents seems to impart a sense of timelessness. Those are the things that translate into roots and security. It represents a time line and a continuum which go on for future generations, connecting with what came before.

May you appreciate all those who have added depth and fullness of time
to your lives
~ Tasarwen

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I

Anarya ~ Sunday

spring flowers

At long last, Spring has enfolded us within its gossamer wings of greens. There is a change in the air and it feels full and rich with the promise of warmer days and softer nights. The first bright colors of early summer are barely being seen and those sharp, crisp days of late winter are fading away just as morning is the lifting of night’s curtain, chasing away dreams.

I have dragged out every container I own and have positioned them around the steps to our front porch. They are clustered and layered with the greatest of care. For the past two days, I have visited local stores to begin to accumulate all sizes, shapes, and colors of small flowering plants. Even yesterday, I carried two important “finds” home in the wicker basket of my vintage bicycle. While at a nursery, what did my wandering eyes see?....but a large bumble bee, rambling about from flower to flower. All’s well with the world when my old friends, the bumble bees appear. They lumber around, much like old vintage automobiles, taking their time and moving with the expertise of millennia. I have always loved them and remember watching them as a small child in my grandmother’s garden. Having fur and a fabulous color pattern, they are irresistible.

Happiness was plunging my hands (at long last) into warm rich soil, digging little holes in which to nestle my new plants. The sun was on my back and I felt wrapped in contentment. When all was planted, I dragged out the hose and gently sprayed each planter with cool water. There is always within me a desire to play with water. So while sneaking a peek under my eyelashes, I gazed around to see who or what there was to play water games with. Lo and behold there was a husband standing, supervising (of course) all my happy efforts at gardening. Hmmm....fair game, I’d say! So he got sprayed. He was a good sport about and actually let out a squeal.

Of late, I have found myself....not myself. While winter continued its stranglehold upon our land, I became too entangled with my computer duties as a moderator for a large online community. I poured myself into the care and upkeep of this community. I no longer felt the desire to write and I lost my ability to delight in the small things that surround me. Joy vacated my life. However, there has been a change. While it is my greatest desire to be of help to the people who populate that place, I will no longer voice an opinion on how best to “keep the stable clean”. There are others who are better suited to those arguments.

With this decision, a veil has lifted from my eyes and happiness has returned. With that happiness, I am brimming with creative ideas. Now is the time for lingering and day dreaming; for creating beauty once again and sharing that with others.

May you allow your dreams to drift, surrounding those who share your life with joy
~ Tasarwen

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