Overheard on a Salt Marsh

Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.
No.

Give them me. Give them me.
    No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.

Hush, I stole them out of the moon.

Give me your beads, I want them.
    No.

I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them.
  No.

The Brooding Heron artwork you see at the blog is by the wonderful Jackie Morrie, who has worked on the lovely Discworld Calendar and other projects of note. You can see her painting of Sam Vimes and baby Sam here. Her latest book is titled The Snow Leopard

Serendipity:

I came across this review of a new film titled Unforseen when trolling the net for nature poems:

The subject is land development - specifically, what 30 years of profit-bent private sector building has done to Austin, Texas. It's a topic of crucial interest to almost every American town, village, and city, and it inflames passions on both sides....The film's case against overdevelopment needs to be, and could be, aggressive, airtight. It should play to the unconverted. Instead, "The Unforeseen" gives us . . . poetry.

I disagree. Poetry speaks to both heart and mind; it is only in the joining of these two forces that complex problems can be resolved. This is from the poem Santa Clara Valley

What had been foreseen was the coming of the Stranger with Money
All that had been before had been destroyed: the salt marsh
of unremembered time, the remembered homestead, orchard and pasture.

Indeed. I know this place well. It was once called the Valley of Heart's Delight. No one calls it that anymore.

As Robert Redford observes, you can't solve problems unless people are moved and inspired.

Like the goblin in the poem above, we humans are too often willing to trade what's irreplaceable and immensely dear for what's immediate, shiny and cheap.

How very poor that makes us.

Sia

First Poem: Overheard on a Salt Marsh by Harold Monroe

Ostara & Spring Equinox

I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.

And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand--
So what could I do but laugh and go?

by Richard Le Gallienne

Ostara & Spring Equinox Celebrations:

The vernal equinox celebrates the balance of light and dark. At this equinox, a shift takes place from the earth energy of winter to the airiness of spring. From the cold darkness of earth and stone and the roots of trees, sap begins to rise; the breeze begins to warm and soothe us; and the skies become thickly inhabited once again.

No talk of spring is complete without mention of its central image; that of the seed that dies, falls into the dark ground, and is reborn as the sprout, the seedling. Here are a few Ostara activities, including the ritualized action of planting intention:

Planting Bean Runes:

Choose a rune, or two or three, that most closely sums up what it is you wish to grow in your life. Called the I Ching of the Vikings, runes were originally used for divination. To learn about individual runes and their meanings, click here.

Prepare a pot of soil by stirring it with your finger, visualizing your good energy entering into the soil. Smooth the surface of the soil and then make shallow holes for the beans, about the depth of a pencil eraser. Hold the beans in your hand and breathe into them, infusing them with your hopes. Plant them in the shape of the rune, visualizing concrete things you intend to do during the next few weeks to make your wish become reality. Then water them well, cover the pot with plastic wrap, and put it on top of the refrigerator (the warmth will help the sprouting process).

In a couple of days, check to see if anything has come up. If the soil is dry, water it. Soon your rune will sprout. After the danger of frost is past, you can plant it in your garden. If for some reason your rune fails to sprout, you may want to rethink your goals and try a different rune, or try the same one again.

From Celebrating the Great Mother: A Handbook of Earth Honoring Activities for Parents & Children, by Cait Johnson and Maura D. Shaw.

Review: This handbook of Earth-honoring activities for parents and children provides a family-oriented approach to the rituals of celebration, giving parents and adults insights into the spiritual experiences which will inspire kids and help them to understand holiday meanings. Techniques ranging from visualization to Tarot play are developed with kids in mind.

Honoring Birds

You might want to clean the hair out of the family hairbrushes and pull some (preferably natural and cotton) lint from your dryer, and put it out for the birds to use as nesting material. When you do, send loving thoughts to the birds that will use this material to make their homes.

Update 3/22: Chas Clifton notes that "Brushing the dogs outdoors, where the clumps of air blow off the verandah and into the yard, is my equivalent way of "honoring birds." Good point. Excuse me while I go and get my German Shepherd.

Recipe for Making Healthy Seed Bells

Put Up a birdhouse or a nesting box - Click here to find the right birdhouse for your area.

Decorating Eggs:

Learn Pysanky - Ukranian Decorated Eggs

Incredible, Edible Eye Dye by Autumn Wiggins
Lots of useful links here.

Here we stand at the Spring Equinox, once again straddling the line between the darkness and the light, between fear and faith. For many spiritual practices, this is the season of hope, the pastel package delivered on winter's promise that someday it will again be warm, green, and light. With the new shoots pushing their way through the wet dirt, the beckoning call of amorous birds at dawn, and the lengthening day, many of us who have spent the winter rain-drenched and grouchy will again consider the abundant possibilities of spring.

- Snakemoon

Gardening & Seed Planting:

Seeds of Change: Organic Seeds, Heritage Seeds & Supplies
One of my very favorite places

Growing Herbs Indoors

Growing Herbs Indoors II

Basic Herb Information

Container Herb Gardening - Youtube video

Harvesting & Drying Herbs - Youtube video

River Action:

Help Clean Up A River

Related Articles:

Pysanky Panky: The Magic Egg - a wonderful article by my good friend, and former Editor, Snakemoon.

Sex & Scent in Ancient Times

Pagan Origins of the Easter Bunny

Links

Ostara Altars - Flickr photos

Family Egg Dying Ritual from the Queen of Heaven Circle

Photos of some lovely celtic eggs by sspyndel

Egg Balancing

If your purse no longer bulges
and you've lost your golden treasure,
If at times you think you're lonely
and have hungry grown for pleasure,
Don't sit by your hearth and grumble,
don't let mind and spirit harden.
If it's thrills of joy you wish for
get to work and plant a garden!

If it's drama that you sigh for,
plant a garden and you'll get it
You will know the thrill of battle
fighting foes that will beset it
If you long for entertainment and
for pageantry most glowing,
Plant a garden and this summer spend
your time with green things growing.

If it's comradeship you sight for,
learn the fellowship of daisies.
You will come to know your neighbor
by the blossoms that he raises;
If you'd get away from boredom
and find new delights to look for,
Learn the joy of budding pansies
which you've kept a special nook for.

If you ever think of dying
and you fear to wake tomorrow
Plant a garden! It will cure you
of your melancholy sorrow
Once you've learned to know peonies,
petunias, and roses,
You will find every morning
some new happiness discloses.

by Edgar Albert Guest

Happy Spring,

Sia


Art: Mystic Memories by Sabrinia, The Ink Witch. Used With Permission

The Second Half: A Poem for Hecate On Her Birthday

For Hecate, a woman who looks both inward and outward. Happy Birthday:

The Second Half

The second half of my life will be black
to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
The second half of my life will be water
over the cracked floor of these desert years.
I will land on my feet this time,
knowing at least two languages and who
my friends are. I will dress for the
occasion, and my hair shall be
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old
birthday, counting the years as usual,
but I will count myself new from this
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers shifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys into a deep
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going
upward, always up.

From one Boomer Broad to another,

Sia

Poem by Joyce Stuphen

Note: I've never actually met this lady, but I've been reading her blog for years now, and she always gives me something to think about or something to brighten my day. Sometimes her posts make me growl and sometimes they make me laugh. I hope she makes a collection of her best work for posterity's sake.

Thank you, Dear Lady, for your words and actions: The world is a better place for you being in it.

SV

Welcome Brigid - Poems for Imbolc

This poem is for my friend Owlwind, who is due to have her daughter and first child this week. I post it in her honor for the Third Annual Brigid In Cyberspace Poetry Slam.

Brigid Newly Arrived

Dear child, dear little child,
hardly into the world,
a few weeks into our
cold you intrude your fire
for us to warm ourselves.
Look kindly on our eyes
that gaze down into yours
to quicken our low fires.

Dear wordless little girl,
forgive our words, we live
by them as you soon shall.
Choose wisely as you grow
into your wording age
among their worn meanings
some you will surely need
and we bleed to give you:
luck, charity, courage.

Poem: "Brigid Newly Arrived" by George Johnston, from The Essential George Johnston. © The Porcupine's Quill, 2007.

Art: Brigid's Wheel

Related Articles:

Brigid in Cyberspace - A Day of Poetry for Imbolc

Because Brigid Likes to Laugh

Links:

Fire Goddesses & Fire Gods

Another poem:

The dandelion lights its spark
Lest Brigid find the wayside dark.
And Brother Wind comes rollicking
For joy that she has brought the spring.
Young lambs and little furry folk
Seek shelter underneath her cloak.
W. M. Letts

Five Mountain Days

The fall fog is here at last. It comes on little cat feet, straight up from the river, purring and rubbing up against our trees, till it stops a mile or two below us, where it curls up and takes a nap. Most mornings, I can look out over our back deck, to see a lake of soft white fog covering the river valley below us. The sun is shines on our mountain and on the mountains beyond the valley and between us is the fog. Looking Northeast, I can see all the way to Washington state and there sits Mt. Adams with it's cap of snow, stately and peaceful.

These are what we call five mountain days, those crystal clear days we get in spring and fall when facing directly east, you can see the mountains Jefferson, Hood, Adams, Rainier and St Helen's in the distance, forming a silver and green chain along the cascade range. I see them on my drive to work most days. I drive through farmlands and past past berry and apple orchards and the odd alpaca ranch, with these shimmering mountains leading the way. I still can't believe I get to live here.

The air is clear and a bit moist, a perfect time for a safe burn, so many of our neighbors make bonfires using the brush and wood they have cleared from their land in the past year. The scent of clean wood fires on a clear, breezy day is heady stuff.

My inner clock is shifting as dark comes earlier each day. One morning I woke up at dawn, and watched a sunrise turn the clouds pink from our deck while an owl hooted it way home. Last night, I woke up at 3 am and went out to watch the winter stars. It's clear enough up here to see the Milky Way. Orion's belt was low in the sky and the Seven Sisters sparkled brightly just above our roof.

The geese are traveling, traveling, traveling, singing as they go.

Proposition 49 passed, which means that this beautiful place will last a while longer.

Friends are coming soon and will stay for a visit.

We have a new kitten, a little rescue, who is learning to trust us.

Today is my day off. I will drive down the mountain to take in our recycling, and then I will work in the garden.

Sia

Image: Fogcat

Links:
Overview of Portland, Oregon - one of my favorite cities