Robert Frost: Directive

Directive by Robert Frost [1874-1963]

Back out of all this now too much for us,
Back in a time made simple by the loss
Of detail, burned, dissolved, and broken off
Like graveyard marble sculpture in the weather,
There is a house that is no more a house
Upon a farm that is no more a farm
And in a town that is no more a town.
The road there, if you’ll let a guide direct you
Who only has at heart your getting lost …

… And if you’re lost enough to find yourself
By now, pull in your ladder road behind you
And put a sign up CLOSED to all but me …

… I have kept hidden in the instep arch
Of an old cedar at the waterside
A broken drinking goblet like the Grail
Under a spell so the wrong ones can’t find it,
So can’t get saved, as Saint Mark says they mustn’t.
(I stole the goblet from the children’s playhouse.)
Here are your waters and your watering place.
Drink and be whole again beyond confusion.

Robert Frost had a summer home on the Merrimack River in Amesbury, Massachusetts, not far from where this photograph was taken at Lowell’s Boat Shop.

Women’s March on Washington: Watch Us Stand Strong

I didn’t go to Washington, D.C. today to the Women’s March, but my heart has been there and everywhere around the globe, as women, men and children all gathered together to march against Trump.

The myriad of social issues that intersect with women’s issues effect us all. We have come too far to be knocked back down by Trump and his administration. It is time for us to stand strong and heal the world.  Continue reading

Quote of the Day: Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

This beautiful quote speaks to the trials and tribulations of life and how we emerge as stronger and better human beings…

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” ~ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Namaste… Pamela

Food for Thought: On Being Busy

Saying I am “Busy,” can signal the need to avoid something unpleasant.

Many people use “busy” as their catch all buzz word to hide their preference to not respond or discuss something that might make them feel uncomfortable. I know I have used it myself on more than one occasion. It is the perfect excuse to get out of anything we don’t want to do.

But using that “busy” excuse gives rise to beg these questions: Continue reading

Hawk Breakfast

There is a small Hawk up in the Shagbark Hickory tree just outside my desk window. I was looking out the window gazing at the River, as I am often wont to do, when it flew onto the lowest branch a few minutes ago and settled in. The sun is behind it and as such, it is hard to make out its coloring and markings, but I knew it was a hawk by the shape of its head when I watched it land.

What I did not see, when it landed, was that it landed with a small bird in its talon. Ah… Breakfast.

Hawk has been busy, sitting there on the tree limb shredding the Small Bird, sending its delicate little feathers to flutter and tumble-down to the ground below the tree.

Given the relatively small size of the hawk, I am thinking it is the same Sharp-shinned Hawk that I have seen in the yard in the past. A Sharp-shinned Hawk is America’s smallest hawk. It has a long tail, long legs and short wings. They are very agile fliers who easily zip in between trees to grab they prey.

One day a few months ago, I looked out the window in front of my desk, to see a hawk sitting in the yew bush right in front of the window. It was quite the surprise for the two of us, actually as I looked out saw the hawk staring in the window at me. “Oh,” I exclaimed, as the hawk ducked back down in the bush and then made its exit through the front of the bush.

A Crow landed in the Maple tree to the left of the Hickory that Hawk sits busily eating breakfast. Now Crow is shrieking at Hawk, demanding that Hawk leave it some dregs of Small Bird. However, Hawk has been up there so long with Small Bird I can’t imagine that he has not stripped the bones clean. There seem to be no more feathers fluttering to the ground. There is just Hawk and his breakfast. He is fastidious in making sure he does not leave a morsel behind.

Finished now, he hops to another branch and sits facing the sun. Pleased as he is to have had a healthy breakfast. Perhaps not as hearty as he liked or needed, his wings lifted and he flew off in the direction of the bird feeder on the other side of the yard. The cycle of nature and life itself, never ceases to amaze me.