When all the world appears to be in a tumult, and nature itself is feeling the assault of climate change, the seasons retain their essential rhythm. Yes, fall gives us a premonition of winter, but then, winter, will be forced to relent, once again, to the new beginnings of soft greens, longer light, and the sweet air of spring.
~ Madeleine M. Kunin
In flight the bluebirds are very charming at this time of year; a leisurely flip of the wing carries them along silently with just enough momentum to keep them afloat in the air, and they often sail for a long way, drifting along with open wings.
~ Dr. Winsor M. Tyler
This beautiful and singularly lovable bird divides with the Robin the grateful mission of bringing to its northern friends the welcome news that spring is at hand.
~ George Gladden, 1917
With due respect to other birds, the “Baltimore Oriole of happiness” simply doesn’t sound right.
~Steve Grooms
A tree forms itself in answer
to its place and the light.
Explain it how you will, the only
thing explainable will be
your explanation.~ Wendell Berry, from Sabbaths 1999 IV, Given
This post is in response to Susannah Conway’s April Love 2018 prompt for today: Light.
Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions. I must trust that the little bit of love that I sow now will bear many fruits, here in this world and in the life to come.
~ Henri Nouwen
The picture alone, without the written word, leaves half the story untold.
~ James Lafferty
This post is in response to Susannah Conway’s April Love 2018 prompt for today: Written. Quick post today. M and I have been out hiking and enjoying this beautiful Sunday. I hope your Sunday is/was beautiful, too.
A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy: 635) A hike in the woods. 636) Perfect hiking weather (cool, breezy, and sunny). 637) Fields of purple flowers. 638) Seeing two Bald Eagles on our way home. 639) Sitting by the Pocomoke River. 640) Lunch at our new favorite Chinese restaurant. (Our old favorite is closed. The couple who owned it — she was the waitstaff and he was the chef — decided to retire.)
Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it. Those who do not do it, think of it as a cousin of stamp collecting, a sister of the trophy cabinet, bastard of a sound bank account and a weak mind.
~ Jeanette Winterson
Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the harmonies, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.
…
The deeper the blue becomes, the more strongly it calls man towards the infinite, awakening in him a desire for the pure and finally, for the supernatural… The brighter it becomes, the more it loses its sound, until it turns into silent stillness and becomes white.
~ Wassily Kandinsky
