Posted in Air, Beginnings, Change, Earth, Eastern Shore, Exploring, Garden, Gifts, Gratitude, Heartfulness, Home, In these strange times, Life, Maryland, Mindfulness, Nature, Photography, Quotes, Spirit, Spring, Walking & Wandering, Water, Weather, Wonder

Life and love and connections

In full bloom.

There’s a line by John Clare that I adore — I love John Clare; I revere him — “Poets love nature and themselves are love.” And I believe that with all my heart. And part of writing is adoration. For me, celebrating the wildflowers or the birds is like a kind of worship.

~ Michael Longley, in an interview with Krista Tippet, On Being (2016)

Tiny flowers growing everywhere.

Well, here I am again.  Another modem has been hooked up and programmed and allowed to do whatever it is modems do.  I think we had it up and running within an hour or two of it being delivered to the house today.  Thank you, UPS.  I know you’ve had to travel out this way a lot lately, and I truly appreciate it.  A thank you to the USPS and FedEx while I’m at it.  We’ve had more things delivered over this past year than we usually do in any given year.  Maybe more than we’ve had delivered in the almost eight years we’ve lived in this place.

The essence of yellow lives in the flowers of the forsythia.

I don’t really remember where we left off.  It seems long ago.  It wasn’t, not really.  It was, however, another season ago.  The Spring Equinox had not yet arrived.  The crocuses were just finishing up and the daffodils were on the verge of being their full daffodil selves.  My last post was more of a complaint than an update on life.  Thank you to everyone, for the helpful comments and hints and advice on how to go backwards to the old editor.  I’m there now.  Moving forward will happen eventually.  Not today.

When it rained the other day.

Change is uncomfortable.  Sometimes hard.  I can’t honestly say that I adapt immediately and well to change, but adapt I do.  There are times and areas where it can be nice to go backwards, to stay within the known and comfortable.  I wanted blogging to be that way, to never change.  That’s impossible, of course.  The only writing I do that doesn’t change in terms of the physicality is when I put pen to paper, and only because it’s still pen and paper.  The pens change, the papers change, the journals fill up and change, the words change, but the physical act remains the same.  The only difference in editors and formatting is what’s going on inside my head.  No waiting for uploads and updates (although sometimes it seems like that is exactly what I’m waiting for when faced with the blank page — an upload or update from above or from the muse or from somewhere that feels outside of me).

The cedars collect the raindrops and wear them as jewelry for a little while.

I’m going to keep this short.  Rain and storms are on the way and it’s best to shut things down when there’s a chance of thunderstorms.  The satellite connection doesn’t work during heavy rain and cloud cover, anyhow.

Thank you so much for visiting with me today.  We are not likely to see much of a sunset today.  It’s scheduled for 7:25 PM.  If it’s not raining, I’ll meet you out at the Point.  I haven’t been there in a while.  Maybe we’ll get lucky between the passing storms and sunset will treat us to a show.  It’s warm (70’s), but you might want to wear a rain jacket.  Just in case.

Please be safe, be well, and be kind.  ♥  Take care.

A world reflected in a raindrop.

A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy:  1.741)  Each and every one of you.  Thank you.  1,742)  Raindrops on redbuds.  1,743)  The brilliant yellow of the forsythia this year.  1,744)  Chickpea salad sandwiches and pasta salad for dinner tonight.  1,745)  Getting ready to travel.  Taking the slow approach has me appreciating the pre-trip preparations in ways I usually don’t notice when I’m rushing around like a chicken with her head cut off.  (I’m not sure I like that saying.  I wonder why I use it?)

A part of me is in that raindrop. Look for the bright pink jacket.


Robin is...

24 thoughts on “Life and love and connections

  1. There is something about your photos – they are compact in presence, and so full of lifepower, I am amazed. This red buds with drops on them – ahh – what’s their name? I don’t see something like that In Norway.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Leelah. ♥ The tree is Cercis canadensis, or Eastern Redbud. They are native to North America and one of my favorites. Their leaves are heart-shaped. We planted three of them a few years ago, and last year was the first year we saw a lot of blooms. It looks like we might see a lot of blooms on them this year, too. I’m not sure why they are called “red”bud. They’ve always looked a little more purple and pink to me.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Eliza. 🙂 Yes, it is. And a little snow (we have flurries flying here today — nothing that will stick but it’s interesting to have snow in April).

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Interesting way to describe a poet. There’s always a connection between nature and love. Of course those who don’t see the connection don’t love it. I/we’ve ordered more online this past year than ever before. I’m grateful for the ability to do so, but it’s taken some getting used to. Good observation

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think we will see the redbuds blooming in Ohio, along with a lot of the other flowers that already started here. We’re leaving on Monday, Dawn. We’ll be there about two months. That should be long enough for spring to arrive there. 🙂


      1. My pleasure, Robin. And I feel you. While I am rather adaptable, I’m just not keen on the whole block format. It is not user-friendly no matter how much they try to convince us otherwise… 🙂


Comments are delightful and always appreciated. I will respond when I can (life is keeping me busy!), and/or come around to visit you at your place soon. Thank you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.