210516 Hearing the Witch

May 16

The Wise Witch, blossoms in her hair.

 There is more green every day. The distant hills show green now. I am sitting on the porch, warm enough in shirtsleeves.The raven is circling the ridge and croaking. There is a pair of crows too, nesting nearby. The song sparrow is nesting here, maybe two pairs, since I seem to hear several. The yellow-shafted flicker is staying here. I have seen white-throated sparrows and another with a brown cap that I can't identify. They have been around for a few days now, but I don't know if they will stay or go father north. Yesterday there was a goldfinch in the apple tree by the barn. And there has been a hummingbird around for two or three days. The tree swallow is coming around daily with his mate - they still seem to want to harass the bluebirds, one of whom is usually on guard while they are here. We see hairy woodpeckers (that's their name, they don't have hair) whenever we are in the woods. We hear one on the ridge often. The nuthatch is around still, but I haven't seen a junco for a few days, nor the phoebe.The vultures are nesting near enough that our meadow is part of their hunting ground - but I wouldn't be surprised if they travel quite far in their daily scavenging. We hear the ruffed grouse thumping on the ridge all the time. Oh, and there are blue jays, at least one pair on the ridge and more east of the house - they are loud and insistent: their calls take me sharply back to the Bruce Peninsula cottage of my childhood. Not to be overlooked just because they are common, more than one set of robins hunt on our lawn and nest in our trees and in the chicken house. 

Here is the tree swallow acrobat.  He perches arrogantly on the bluebird's house, while the bluebird watches from a post nearby.

   

There are new flowers up as well and all different kinds of ferns unfurling and growing tall. We had several days of cold and some rain and lots of clouds, and I lost touch with myself somehow. I was discouraged and stopped trying to identify the plants and birds: I know so little and it seemed an overwhelming task. I hear the birds and I don't know what they are, some loon-like bird in the evening below the trees to the east, another that whistles repeatedly from the ridge. I continued to cook healthy meals but I didn't do any mosaics or writing. There was laundry piling up and so much of it seemed to demand a proper machine. But the laundromats are far away, one an hour west, the other an hour north. I didn't go to the ridge at all for those three days. Nor did I make music. I couldn't see the other side, which scared me. I was suddenly full of doubts and although there were no whispered bad thoughts I felt very unconnected.

This was the sky on Tuesday: heavy and cold.

I despaired of finding this tiny flower in my plant apps. This was one of the things weighing on me. It seems trifling but it crystallized my sense of loss.  Here they are, blue on the lawn.

   

But the sun came back on Thursday and I seemed to see the witches again. The wise one is green and her hair is thick with blossoms. It is as if I can hear her again. The blind witch is only just budding and still looks bare and asleep. The thorn tree though has turned green and suddenly seems awake and vibrant with life. I have come back from wherever I went. I started some laundry and did three sinks worth of wash, which made a bigger dent in the piles than I expected. That was encouraging. With the sun's warmth everything dried fast and I did some more washing yesterday. I also made a batch of baked beans on Friday. They simmer on the stove for hours before they are ready. They aren't really baked, as I don't have an oven dish big enough for two pounds of beans, but they taste delicious nevertheless and don't seem to suffer from not really being baked. 

Yesterday a friend delivered some furniture for the studio. She is moving and needed to get rid of some shelves and chairs - so my studio is beginning to take shape. I may have to put screening on some gaps to keep out the bugs - chiefly the biting ones. It needs more work: it is exciting, though daunting, to be starting on it. 

Perhaps I am out of my depth. Perhaps I am too old for the changes and uncertainties I am trying to deal with. Doubts are "tugging at my sleeve".* Having written those three sentences, I realize that one challenge is actually financial. Yes, haha, for me and a few billion other people. I should be, and am, grateful to have food on the table and a roof over my head. I need to shake off my doubts, let them be, not let them get to me. If I work harder, spend more time on my art, and make the most of every day I will feel less uncertain. I have been to see the ridge stream each day since Thursday and it lifts my spirits to see the water glinting in the sun amid a burgeoning greenness.

Here is my little lion prowling by the stream. Bright new ferns on the ridge.

  

I was thrilled to find, (and recognize!) this jack-in-the-pulpit by the stream!

I have felt weary of politics and war too, this week. I despair of seeing significant change in the world, to a more humane, inclusive economic system, to a healthy planet. One hopes and hopes, but just now I feel too tired to bear the burden of caring. 

Head up, Mumma! See, the sun is shining. I will take Fig and walk over to the ridge. I won't try and name all the ferns and trees. I will be only my senses: wordlessly see, hear without thought, feel the sun and the wind on my skin, smell the subtle scents of last year's leaves underfoot, pine trees, the sun in the woods and the strawberry flowers in the meadow.

The green meadow and the hills beyond the Missisquoi Valley:

 

The sky last night:

Thank you for visiting. Take what you like and leave what doesn't fit for you. Be well.

Mumma Yaga

* to paraphrase Jackson Brown's Something Fine.