Sunday, May 13, 2012

Rain and Leaves and Mother's Day

And so it goes... The weather here has done one of its famous mid-May flops or oscillations. With just a week or so to go before we are officially in spring's frost-free zone, temperatures have tumbled, and the furnace murmurs happily along from time to time.  It chants a susurrant mantra about new beginnings, things greening up and warmer times being somewhere just over the hill and not too far off.

This morning it is cool, overcast and rainy. The house finches raising a fivesome brood in the wreath on the front door fly back and forth a thousand times a day with food, but they're also spending a fair bit of time hunkered down on the crowded nest keeping their fuzzy (and ever hungry) offspring warm and dry.  Maple trees in the garden are mildly dismayed by the weather and showing pink and red along their edges when the north wind brings them fluttering down and onto the wet deck.  Rain spattered leaves suspended here and there in the hedgerow are like little stained glass windows in the wildness.

There is always a silver lining though - the return to cooler weather means that we will not be carried away entirely by flies and mosquitoes today, and that is a good thing for we were  royally chewed this week. Mother's Day morning is to be spent in the woods, with the tribe assembled around the table later, bison chili, a brown rice risotto, salad, a homemade baguette or three and many cups of tea to follow.

To my many mothers, wherever they are and whatever they are doing, my deep and heartfelt thanks on this day, to the Old Wild Mother of us all, first and foremost...

1 comment:

Cindy said...

The Old Wild Mother is all I look to now in my adult life. She has always been there of course, but now I recognize Her presence and hear Her voice. I have learned to be quiet more, to listen, to realize that the shiver I get, the quickened senses, the rush of energy, or the sense of wonder is the way she shows Herself. And none of it is lost on me now...