Anarya ~ Sunday

snowy morning

A glow the color of pink roses greeted me when I arose during the pre-dawn hour, just a few days past. Immediately, I knew what it meant. We were in the midst of a large snow storm. Snow fell heavily, without a whisper of sound. We were entombed within the confines of a giant marshmallow. It was a “marshmallow morning”. As the light increased, the rosy glow transcended into a ghostly blue. Before true daylight arrived, I donned my robe, grabbed my camera, and crept out onto the porch. It was cold, but the excitement of catching that special color of blue chased away any shivering. Carefully, I took many photos of those magic pre-dawn moments. It was ethereal and otherworldly.

Snow fell for twenty four hours, non-stop. I wrapped myself into my winter clothes and went for a winter walk-about. Most sidewalks were not shoveled and I trudged through snow almost to my knees. There were many places where I had to walk in the street.

During the summer months, I noticed a new trail in the woods where I frequent. Arched over the trail, was a mighty willow. It was spectacular and I made a mental note to return during one of our big snows. It was immediately on my mind to get to that particular trail on that snowy day. Slowly, I made my way. Lo and behold, the sight of that magnificent willow arched over the trail, buried deep in fresh snow, caught my eye. Even though I took many pictures, trying to capture the immenseness of it, it was beyond the ability of my camera.

It has been as I foretold. Many of our maple trees, who held onto their leaves, have lost many large limbs. The carnage is widespread. Trees laid bare as a result of large rips all the way down their trunks, are a common sight of late. Huge limbs litter sidewalks and streets. It is a sad sight. The snow we just had could not have been worse....deep and moisture laden. The results of it will last long into the future, I fear. However, maple trees are not indigenous to my high mountain realm. Only the firs and blue spruces reign supreme. They are quite large and tolerate heavy snows. The position of their limbs and needles, all pointing downward, provide a slide by which snow may travel earthward, piling at their roots.

Perhaps, there is a lesson to be learned. Being in a place that is not “right”, may produce unnecessary hardship. The maple trees are showy and very beautiful, but they belong in a different climate. Beauty does not always guarantee survival. Beauty is, after all, only skin deep. The quest for it, many times, brings about unhappiness. It is far better to be comfortable in ones own skin....or shall we say, bark.

May you find your place of true happiness ~ Tasarwen

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Eärenya ~ Thursday

The Misty One has arrived. Hísimë, the month of November has drifted down upon us. Time is moving by me at a rapid pace. It dances along, weaving experiences as threads of gold into my life. The path ahead is full of turns and undulating hills, unseen except for a just a short distance ahead. Many times, surprises jump out of nowhere and I am kept at suspense with each day that passes.

Just recently, my hubby has announced to me that he enjoys his job so much that he is considering staying a while longer and not retiring next summer. The small town where he works is a pleasant place and one he likes very much. He has grown very attached to those with whom he works and has realized that he would miss them all. I am happy for him and I know that whatever he decides to do, is the right choice. Of course, I do not have a crystal ball in which to gaze, so I have not a clue what is going to happen a year from now or where I will be. Such is the serendipitous life.

During my recent walk-abouts, I have looked around me carefully and realized what potential damage will be done to the maple trees in my realm. Every one of them is still heavily laden with large canopies of leaves. Every leaf is freeze dried and stuck to the limbs from which they were born. It is difficult to pick one off . When the wind blows, there is such a clamor so as to make a person deaf with what seems to be verbal protests. In front of my eyes, I am reliving the story of Mr. Maple. Mr. Maple was a tree of “special magnificence” who desired to hold onto his leaves. It did not bode well for him when the heavy snows of winter came. I fear that it is the same with the trees in my own woods. I cringe with the thought of these wonderful beings losing limbs and possibly their lives, trying to bear up under heavy winter snows.

I am struck dumb! Is this a reminder to all of us how important it is to let go? Must the leaves of experiences past, drop from our limbs and out of our minds in order to bring peace and happiness? Truly, these musings are worth pondering.

Just a while past, I sat in a chair and looked out of the window. I did nothing else. My mind drifted and finally soared out past my sight. It was heavenly and refreshing. Rarely, have I given into the temptation to day dream. My entire being relaxed into a “Jello” state of being....just a blob. Being a blob once in a while is a good thing. Much of my day is spent racing from one activity to the next in order to “get it all in”. A time of total relaxation was time well spent, even if it lasted for a few brief moments. Perhaps, this is what is meant by "going with the flow”.

As I sit and write these musings, it has come to my mind to create a pot of vegetable soup. Soups are comfort food for this time of the year and I enjoy gathering the ingredients and mixing them together to form a culinary sensation. It is a time for gathering and preparing for the cocooning season just ahead.

May you be comforted ~ Tasarwen

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