The Bird Flying Over You

(a shadow dream in words)


I am the bird flying over you
My wings my bones
Eternity
My shadow
Not to darken your way
But to follow you with love

I am the bird flying over you
Angel of the elders
Opening the meeting place door
Soft as golden velvet

I am the bird flying over you




~All words copyright of Amy Lesser 2010

Gifts of Summer

Just now, as I was sitting down at the computer to type, I heard a startled bird cry from across the garden, over in our big pine tree. I thought, perhaps, as the solstice sun was setting that a cat might be attacking young birds. And so, out the door I went. I trekked across the garden. When I arrived to the tree, at first I thought there was a large 'moth' hatch going on...it was dusk and hard to see...but then I realized that the tree, some 50 feet high, was swarming with honeybees and that the birds were distressed from all the bees! I stepped back and looked. Amazing. A solstice swarm. Tomorrow, my brother in law, the beekeeper, will have the swarm. They are most likely from one of his hives. I do hope the birds survive unscathed and unstung. Poor things.

This afternoon, in our back sales room, which becomes a catch all over the winter, the inside of the screen door was covered in beautiful summer solstice butterflies! I had gathered two bushels of nettles a couple of weeks ago and, unbeknownst to me, they had little caterpillars all over them when I brought them home. By the time I realized that the little guys had set up 'shop' in our shop with cocoons while the nettles were drying on a screen, it was too late. And here, today, they hatched in all their glory and fluttery winged splendor. My daughter and her little friend held them gingerly on their little girl fingertips and they fluttered in their curly hair. Very summery, indeed.

I also received an early birthday gift (for tomorrow)

from a new kindred spirit friend (a gift in itself!)who gave me a summer solstice bracelet that she created herself of malachite and a hand blown glass ladybug bead, a beautiful quartz crystal, a sliver of magical amethyst (my favorite crystal) and a Native American arrowhead from Tennessee. She delivered it all in little secret pouches of gold and leather and included a bouquet of wild purple flowers and mini sunflower heads. What a truly beautiful day!

I treated myself (while performing the perfunctory grocery shopping this a.m.) to a pink raspberry fondant cake that waits a-cooling in the cooler and even the man at the vacuum repair store (ours conked out yesterday, no wonder on this gritty dirty farm) was pleasant and 'summery' as I dropped old faithful off to be fixed. What magic occurred today. What beauty came forth from the ends of the earth. I wish the solstice occurred more than twice a year. O day of beauty and gifts. A gift that cometh down from above.

Three Unlikely Friends

Yesterday afternoon the weather was perfect. So I put my pet Starling, Widget, out on his little hook (in his cage) on the back porch, to soak up some sun. Along came Mr. Daddy Cardinal and visited with Widget from the back of our lawn chairs, chip chip chipping to Widget. And, as if that weren't enough for an afternoon bird tea party...along came Miss Ruby Throated Hummingbird to sip some nectar alongside her colorful (and verbal) friends. I didn't catch a photo to share, but wanted to let you know that birds don't necessarily have to be 'of a feather' to flock together.

Antique Botanical Bird Egg Print

Old old print of bird eggs. Oh the healing sound of birds upon the branches of spring trees!

I'll be posting some things to inspire while I tackle my over-piled horizontal surfaces and work mulitplying like field mice....

Gatherings Before The Snow

This morning, while I was having my second cup of piping hot coffee strong enough to stand a spoon up in, Tom, my husband mentions that he heard a winter storm is headed our way later this week. I felt it. I mean, I had already felt it in the air...that it was coming. And, of course, it is overdue. So, in addition to my regular once a week grocery shopping (which I am pondering about turning into a bi-monthly shopping trip), I pulled on my barn boots and headed out into the surrounding yard and fields. I gathered up all the little pie pumpkins that looked as though they might tuck their pulp tastily into steaming spicy pies, I filled my largest kitchen bowl with greens from the garden; French sorrel, heirloom chards and kales, sprigs of parsley and bits of wispy pungent dill. I checked the wild bird seed supply, moved a second bag of rabbit chow into the rabbit barn and settled in for the afternoon. There are three gallons of raw milk waiting to be turned into cheddar, yogurt and butter, and my little 'grain grinding' station up above the old woodshed is in a sorry state of confusion following a heavy duty grinding session of rye yesterday afternoon. Three solid peasant loaves of hand ground sourdough rye sit, still cooling, on the kitchen table, surrounded by all my gatherings.

Now, if I had only found more time to pick up bushels and bushels of wild hickory nuts, we would be all set. There is venison waiting in the freezer and more where that came from, as Albert harvested his very first two deer on his very first day out deer hunting. We are blessed, we are ready for the winter winds to blow.

The pantry in the cellar is stocked with umpteen jars of wild elderberry jelly for medicine, and wild grape jelly to enjoy. I think this was the very first year I can remember, since I have begun paying attention to the little wild grapes, that they were plentiful enough to gather for jelly. The blossoms on the trees this past spring were so profuse, any fruited tree or bush was as heavily laden as any year I've ever witnesses thus far.

Perhaps this excess was God's way of preparing us all, including the little sparrows and wild starlings, for a harsh winter. Let it begin.