Only days ago the cats and I sat mesmerized as golden leaves from the hickory tree spiraled and spun like flickering tongues of fire against a brilliant blue sky. Today elusive flames sputter and start in the wood stove as damp logs hiss in resistance.The golden days of October have departed early it seems, leaving a skim of ice on the water in the bird bath and the need for an extra layer indoors.
A raw wind is cutting leaf from limb and opening up patches of sky in the woods that surround me. The curtain is being pulled back and I find myself in a different place.
The landscape is transforming into winter. Snowflakes could fall today.
I am feeling a bit “between the worlds” from this seemingly overnight change. The faded colors, a tiny late-blooming flower here and there among the brittle stalks, the absence of the cricket chorus… Were they saying their goodbyes and I was too busy to notice? They have withdrawn and so will the rest of us. Back into our inner spaces. Back to hearth and home. Dreaming before the welcome fire… slowing down to align with this new rhythm.
The cats are curled up deep in dreams, foregoing the urgent need to be outside.
They have surrendered to the season and I will do the same. The element of fire will lead me into its waking dreamtime as a new cycle begins on this wheel of life.
The alchemists perceived fire as “the agent of transmutation”, feeling all things derive from and return to fire. It materializes the life-force and replaces the sun in the dark days to come.
For much more eloquent discourse on the cycles of all things check out Mythos I and II (available from Netflix). These are the final lectures that Joseph Campbell gave in 1987 which were a summation of his life’s work.(This in not the Power of Myth with Bill Moyers) These talks are food for the mind and soul showing how mankind’s narrative and social history is intertwined throughout the world via the natural world and human nature. The old cycles are still active in this seemingly modern world, just somewhat smothered or obscured by the prevailing materialism.
Take a look beneath the surface and be reassured.
May your inner fire be fed by the passions that sustain you…
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Migrations
Waves of departing geese pass overhead, loudly honking their farewells until Spring.
My imagination is stirred as they call me to follow their quest to warmer climes and new adventures. I stand face upturned and feet firmly rooted in this place. I wish them safe harbors and plentiful food as they strike out under a waxing moon. I will be here celebrating their triumphant return when Winter has passed.
The goose in many ways epitomizes the mystery of migration and passages. They don’t fly in a straight line though it appears that way from certain perspectives. The traditional V sometimes morphs and regroups at this starting point of the journey and continues to refine itself enroute. These remarkable creatures are constantly shifting formations to allow each goose to have an unobstructed view of the journey ahead and to create wind drafts which make easier flights for those following the lead. This way they all find themselves naturally in the flow.Oh, if we humans could be so generous and find ourselves in that flow... For an amazing bird’s eye view of these ancient seasonal sojourns watch the film “Winged Migrations” and you will forever be in awe of the feathered creatures around us.
Other migrations will be heading in our direction over the long weekend to come. The hills are alive with radiant color and the traditional motorcade of leaf-peepers will make the journey to drink in the cool, fresh air and that color of the crimson, gold and orange leaves that are still intensifying. Almost every town in New England will be stacked high with the season’s bounty, craft fairs and antique shows will proliferate and a good time is insured for all under clear blue skies.Locals will complain about the additional traffic but all will secretly take pleasure in sharing the beauty that we are lucky enough to enjoy everyday. It is our gift and certainly helps ease the passage into the shorter days ahead.
Do get out and admire the golden days of Autumn wherever you may be. And may all your
journeys be inspired ones!
My imagination is stirred as they call me to follow their quest to warmer climes and new adventures. I stand face upturned and feet firmly rooted in this place. I wish them safe harbors and plentiful food as they strike out under a waxing moon. I will be here celebrating their triumphant return when Winter has passed.
The goose in many ways epitomizes the mystery of migration and passages. They don’t fly in a straight line though it appears that way from certain perspectives. The traditional V sometimes morphs and regroups at this starting point of the journey and continues to refine itself enroute. These remarkable creatures are constantly shifting formations to allow each goose to have an unobstructed view of the journey ahead and to create wind drafts which make easier flights for those following the lead. This way they all find themselves naturally in the flow.Oh, if we humans could be so generous and find ourselves in that flow... For an amazing bird’s eye view of these ancient seasonal sojourns watch the film “Winged Migrations” and you will forever be in awe of the feathered creatures around us.
Other migrations will be heading in our direction over the long weekend to come. The hills are alive with radiant color and the traditional motorcade of leaf-peepers will make the journey to drink in the cool, fresh air and that color of the crimson, gold and orange leaves that are still intensifying. Almost every town in New England will be stacked high with the season’s bounty, craft fairs and antique shows will proliferate and a good time is insured for all under clear blue skies.Locals will complain about the additional traffic but all will secretly take pleasure in sharing the beauty that we are lucky enough to enjoy everyday. It is our gift and certainly helps ease the passage into the shorter days ahead.
Do get out and admire the golden days of Autumn wherever you may be. And may all your
journeys be inspired ones!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Transition to Autumn
Today it is official, summer has departed and the calling card of cool nights and the overhead honking of South-bound geese has been received and acknowledged by all.
Here in the hills of New England we have been trying to ignore the fiery color building on the hillsides, first yellow birch and beech and later bursts of flame-orange maples scattered here and there. But there is no denying the calendar… the Autumnal Equinox is here today… ready or not.
Last week’s Harvest Moon and the mounds of colorful pumpkins, and ornamental gourds sitting shoulder to shoulder with pots of purple asters and mums of russet red and bright yellow along every rural highway have eased the transition. The last Monarch butterflies visit diminished gardens and humans are amazed to see darkness descend by 7:30 pm. A lone female hummingbird sips what nectar can be found in late blooming blossoms. And a pile of split wood waits to be neatly stacked until the first fires are lit. The transition from exterior to interior, extroversion to introspection has subtly begun as our inner landscape reflects the outer.
A bittersweet acquiescence to the passage of time mingles with the anticipation of the glorious pageantry of color to come. No one puts on a more dramatic display of Fall color than New England. Some days are so clear and crisp and the folliage so intense against cerulean blue skies it seems unreal; like an over the top, highly saturated “Technicolor” movie of the mid-fifties. It is my favorite season and one of the attractions that pulled me from the steamy South to these northern hills.
Early morning transitions are particularly magical in this area. On the road to Maine recently as the sun was rising, mists were lifting from the waters of a nearby pond. Two young deer gracefully crossed the road after sampling the cool water; a pair of crows silhouetted on a bare branch and shrouded in fog cawed loudly as I stopped my car to take it all in. I’ve included a photo I took there that sets the stage for the journey into Autumn.
The intimate scene I just described takes place everyday, but most of us are so intent on getting to where we need to be, we do not notice them. Try to take the time to witness the changes taking place where you are today, savor the timeless beauty of the ever-changing season, and remember that you are an integral part of it.
Here in the hills of New England we have been trying to ignore the fiery color building on the hillsides, first yellow birch and beech and later bursts of flame-orange maples scattered here and there. But there is no denying the calendar… the Autumnal Equinox is here today… ready or not.
Last week’s Harvest Moon and the mounds of colorful pumpkins, and ornamental gourds sitting shoulder to shoulder with pots of purple asters and mums of russet red and bright yellow along every rural highway have eased the transition. The last Monarch butterflies visit diminished gardens and humans are amazed to see darkness descend by 7:30 pm. A lone female hummingbird sips what nectar can be found in late blooming blossoms. And a pile of split wood waits to be neatly stacked until the first fires are lit. The transition from exterior to interior, extroversion to introspection has subtly begun as our inner landscape reflects the outer.
A bittersweet acquiescence to the passage of time mingles with the anticipation of the glorious pageantry of color to come. No one puts on a more dramatic display of Fall color than New England. Some days are so clear and crisp and the folliage so intense against cerulean blue skies it seems unreal; like an over the top, highly saturated “Technicolor” movie of the mid-fifties. It is my favorite season and one of the attractions that pulled me from the steamy South to these northern hills.
Early morning transitions are particularly magical in this area. On the road to Maine recently as the sun was rising, mists were lifting from the waters of a nearby pond. Two young deer gracefully crossed the road after sampling the cool water; a pair of crows silhouetted on a bare branch and shrouded in fog cawed loudly as I stopped my car to take it all in. I’ve included a photo I took there that sets the stage for the journey into Autumn.
The intimate scene I just described takes place everyday, but most of us are so intent on getting to where we need to be, we do not notice them. Try to take the time to witness the changes taking place where you are today, savor the timeless beauty of the ever-changing season, and remember that you are an integral part of it.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Vicarious travels through worldly beads...
The stormy days of late summer have given way to cloudless azure blue. Warm sun falls deliciously on bare skin, in the cool dry air of the season on our doorstep. Where did the time go?
No souvenir shells and beach glass from vacation seaside strolls are found in pockets. No ticket stubs from checked baggage with foreign airlines either but I have been traveling…vicariously, in my heart and mind.
Spread before me is the season’s bounty… not the heirloom tomatoes that stoic New Englanders are still patiently waiting to ripen,but beads… strands and strands of beautiful beads.
Ever since my grandmother provided me with a wax-tipped thread and her treasured box of buttons as a small child, I have relished stringing various colors and materials together to create something totally new from something old and well-traveled.
This summer slipped away, dissolved, in rain soaked afternoons, as I explored the surfaces of antique carnelian, worn smooth by time and touch. It was probably mined in the Ramtanpur area of Gujarat, India and shaped and polished by lapidaries in Cambay. Here they were masters at deepening the color of paler agate to the fiery orange of embers, the most desired shade. Cambay still is a leading supplier of this handsome stone, thousands of years later.
These beads, like all others, traveled in ships and across ancient trade routes via caravans around the world.
Instead of summer beach glass, I’ve designed with beautifully pitted cobalt blue beads from the Netherlands, several hundred years old and collected in Africa in the late 1970’s, when “tradebeads” were reintroduced to these shores. The subdued luminous sheen of these delicious beads resembles the most sublime beach finds, softened by sand and water. Adding to the deep cobalt is every shade of blue and green translucent glass handwound in Peking in the 19th C.and beloved by tribal groups everywhere.
I also marveled at faience beads of delicate hues from the ancient city of Persepolis, made a thousand years before Alexander the Great sacked this major metropolis of the Persian Empire. Holding and wearing these venerable world travelers is quite humbling, when you consider the stories they can tell and makes those smitten by their delicate beauty into modern day “time travelers”.
For those of you who are inclined to do so, I highly recommend spending quality time with Lois Dubin’s major contribution, The History of Beads from 30,000 BC to the Present (ISBN 0-8109-0736-4). Her maps of trade-routes and history of bead production will inspire you to do your own vicarious traveling and to learn much more.
I hope your own summer travels were pleasant ones and prepared you for the busy season ahead. Enjoy the waning days of summer and may your harvests be abundant ones.
Please visit: www.deborahgarnercollection.com to see a small sampling of the summer harvest featuring wonderful beads.From the Homepage go to Adornments then Asia/Page 3
No souvenir shells and beach glass from vacation seaside strolls are found in pockets. No ticket stubs from checked baggage with foreign airlines either but I have been traveling…vicariously, in my heart and mind.
Spread before me is the season’s bounty… not the heirloom tomatoes that stoic New Englanders are still patiently waiting to ripen,but beads… strands and strands of beautiful beads.
Ever since my grandmother provided me with a wax-tipped thread and her treasured box of buttons as a small child, I have relished stringing various colors and materials together to create something totally new from something old and well-traveled.
This summer slipped away, dissolved, in rain soaked afternoons, as I explored the surfaces of antique carnelian, worn smooth by time and touch. It was probably mined in the Ramtanpur area of Gujarat, India and shaped and polished by lapidaries in Cambay. Here they were masters at deepening the color of paler agate to the fiery orange of embers, the most desired shade. Cambay still is a leading supplier of this handsome stone, thousands of years later.
These beads, like all others, traveled in ships and across ancient trade routes via caravans around the world.
Instead of summer beach glass, I’ve designed with beautifully pitted cobalt blue beads from the Netherlands, several hundred years old and collected in Africa in the late 1970’s, when “tradebeads” were reintroduced to these shores. The subdued luminous sheen of these delicious beads resembles the most sublime beach finds, softened by sand and water. Adding to the deep cobalt is every shade of blue and green translucent glass handwound in Peking in the 19th C.and beloved by tribal groups everywhere.
I also marveled at faience beads of delicate hues from the ancient city of Persepolis, made a thousand years before Alexander the Great sacked this major metropolis of the Persian Empire. Holding and wearing these venerable world travelers is quite humbling, when you consider the stories they can tell and makes those smitten by their delicate beauty into modern day “time travelers”.
For those of you who are inclined to do so, I highly recommend spending quality time with Lois Dubin’s major contribution, The History of Beads from 30,000 BC to the Present (ISBN 0-8109-0736-4). Her maps of trade-routes and history of bead production will inspire you to do your own vicarious traveling and to learn much more.
I hope your own summer travels were pleasant ones and prepared you for the busy season ahead. Enjoy the waning days of summer and may your harvests be abundant ones.
Please visit: www.deborahgarnercollection.com to see a small sampling of the summer harvest featuring wonderful beads.From the Homepage go to Adornments then Asia/Page 3
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Connections...
The dramatic elemental evidence of Earth Changes, producing fires, floods, tornados, and earthquakes across the US and around the world has been unavoidable this summer.
Here in New England, we have experienced almost daily severe electric storms, monsoon-like rains and several destructive micro-bursts in the month of July. The vegetation is thriving in this new northern rain forest and exotic looking mushrooms and colorful fungi are popping up everywhere. Frogs and salamanders are the happiest campers in these parts…
Power outages and power surges have been playing havoc with internet connections, telephones and electronic equipment of all kinds. I am only recently back online since the first round of technical difficulty. During this period of “disconnect” from the outside world, with no television and spotty audible phone service, space was made for reflection… of course this came about between extreme bouts of total frustration and hiding out with hyper-ventilating cats on the basement stairs, while adrenalin producing lightning strikes are close misses.
It is glaringly obvious how accustomed I’ve grown to being “out in the world” via cyberspace, when I choose to live in a remote area and can easily go a week without seeing a “live” person many months of the year. I thought I was alone out here…
The technical disconnect actually made it necessary to connect “in person” (what a concept!) with neighbors and friends dealing with much of the same thing. This was quite an epiphany for someone that has figured out accurately when the Turk’s Cap lilies will unfurl their speckled orange petals, gracefully arch their backs and transform into the elegant arabesques of form that take my breath away. Or knowing when the last goldfinch will leave the feeder after dusk, so I can prevent the bear from absconding with it later in the evening (again). I am paying attention… I am aware or am I? Hmm?
Actually going out into the world “in person” brought an amazing experience. A dear friend that I had lost touch with three decades and a thousand miles ago reconnected with me. She had been within a hundred mile radius for three years and I had seen her face passing through art events several times. I always thought “she looks so familiar somehow”, but then she was gone. What a shock and thrill when we looked into each others eyes this weekend and finally saw the youthful girlfriend whose gypsy ways left few clues to whereabouts for so long. A day later, as life stories were shared with tears and laughter and as rich and challenging journeys were revealed, an old connection came full circle. Its potent electricity delivered an unexpected gift for both of us, a feeling of wholeness, of a part unnoticed missing…a sense of being home in where we stood today, not nostalgically looking back, but instead looking out from within. Priceless!
Thank you dear reader, for being part of this circle of thought… I missed our connection during this time. Thank you for checking out these pages from time to time in your busy life.
Don’t forget to venture out there and allow reconnection with parts of yourself that are waiting for you to stumble upon them. Wishing you pleasant surprises and heartfelt connections when you do!
Here in New England, we have experienced almost daily severe electric storms, monsoon-like rains and several destructive micro-bursts in the month of July. The vegetation is thriving in this new northern rain forest and exotic looking mushrooms and colorful fungi are popping up everywhere. Frogs and salamanders are the happiest campers in these parts…
Power outages and power surges have been playing havoc with internet connections, telephones and electronic equipment of all kinds. I am only recently back online since the first round of technical difficulty. During this period of “disconnect” from the outside world, with no television and spotty audible phone service, space was made for reflection… of course this came about between extreme bouts of total frustration and hiding out with hyper-ventilating cats on the basement stairs, while adrenalin producing lightning strikes are close misses.
It is glaringly obvious how accustomed I’ve grown to being “out in the world” via cyberspace, when I choose to live in a remote area and can easily go a week without seeing a “live” person many months of the year. I thought I was alone out here…
The technical disconnect actually made it necessary to connect “in person” (what a concept!) with neighbors and friends dealing with much of the same thing. This was quite an epiphany for someone that has figured out accurately when the Turk’s Cap lilies will unfurl their speckled orange petals, gracefully arch their backs and transform into the elegant arabesques of form that take my breath away. Or knowing when the last goldfinch will leave the feeder after dusk, so I can prevent the bear from absconding with it later in the evening (again). I am paying attention… I am aware or am I? Hmm?
Actually going out into the world “in person” brought an amazing experience. A dear friend that I had lost touch with three decades and a thousand miles ago reconnected with me. She had been within a hundred mile radius for three years and I had seen her face passing through art events several times. I always thought “she looks so familiar somehow”, but then she was gone. What a shock and thrill when we looked into each others eyes this weekend and finally saw the youthful girlfriend whose gypsy ways left few clues to whereabouts for so long. A day later, as life stories were shared with tears and laughter and as rich and challenging journeys were revealed, an old connection came full circle. Its potent electricity delivered an unexpected gift for both of us, a feeling of wholeness, of a part unnoticed missing…a sense of being home in where we stood today, not nostalgically looking back, but instead looking out from within. Priceless!
Thank you dear reader, for being part of this circle of thought… I missed our connection during this time. Thank you for checking out these pages from time to time in your busy life.
Don’t forget to venture out there and allow reconnection with parts of yourself that are waiting for you to stumble upon them. Wishing you pleasant surprises and heartfelt connections when you do!
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Longest Day…
“As the sun spirals its longest dance,
Cleanse us…
As Nature shows bounty and fertility,
Bless us…
Let all things live with loving intent
And fulfill their truest destiny” - Wiccan blessing for Summer
The Summer Solstice arrives today here in the Northern Hemisphere. The sun has reached it apex and the earth is at her height of growth.
The year also reaches midpoint…where have the days gone?
Here in the hills, the celebrated sun is playing hide and seek behind opaque clouds that drift in and lower the temperature to a Fall-like 68 degrees. The brightness comes from whistling goldfinches and sweetly scented lemon lilies, until the sun’s rays finally break through and we all let out a collective sigh of appreciation.
Peoples around the world have observed this potent day for millennia. Native Americans created many astrological sites across the Americas to chart the path of the sun and mark this ceremonial day. Many of us think of the stone circles of Stonehenge and Avebury and the Solstice ceremonies still observed there today.
One of the most enduring ties with these ancient rites was the Druid’s celebration of the day as the “wedding of Heaven and Earth”. This is possibly responsible for our modern notion of “lucky” June weddings. Another interesting notion that was carried over, involves the fermented honey “mead” that was imbibed to celebrate wedding ceremonies during the solstice. Because of the height of the bees’ honey production in June (that produced this euphoric drink) the Full moon of June was known as the Honey Moon… Starting to sound familiar?
Bonfires and dancing and leaping through the flames with one’s beloved were common across Europe on this night, the night also made famous by Shakespeare in his enchanting Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the East the ancient Chinese marked the day by honoring Li, the Goddess of Light. So many stories and rituals take place on this day, many are shared in the classic work by Sir James Fraser called The Golden Bough. It was a pioneering study of magic and religion, folklore and folkways by this distinguished Scottish anthropologist of the late 19th C. I highly recommend skimming it for a fun summer read. For interesting information and great illustrations of early cosmological sites around the world check out Early Man and the Cosmos by Evan Hadingham.
However you decide to celebrate this extended day and enchanted evening, may it surpass your expectations!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Green Living
Even here in the Green Mountains of Southern Vermont the heat index is breaking records as the entire East Coast sizzles.
Over the weekend, just ahead of the wilting weather,locals and out-of-staters gathered to celebrate the arts and sustainable energy,agriculture and the dairy industry in Brattleboro.
Sound a bit dull? Not in the Republic of Vermont, where petitions were signed to impeach Bush and Cheney and every other person it seems is an artist, writer, musician or political activist, as well as organic farmer.
Pamplona, Spain may have her “Running of the Bulls” but Brattleboro and the surrounding area has her more demure “Strolling of the Heifers”!
Streets were lined with the diverse populations that make up this unique community.
Young and old held on to black and white spotted balloons suggesting a bobbing herd of helium filled Holsteins ,as a soulful New Orleans style brass band set the stage.
Theatrical skits spoofing the highly contested nuclear plant entertained, as did unicyclists against GMOS in food production and kids carrying long paper worms promoting composting…
At last, the first band of young doe-eyed calves draped in flower garlands and gently led by their also very young owners rounded the corner closely followed by the heifers, resplendent in flowers as well, who sauntered Main Street to soft applause as not to panic the gentle beasts. Natural accidents did happen, as some stage fright occurred, to the delight of giggling little boys. Attendants dressed as black and white cows or Super Heroes quickly scooped and sprinkled sawdust to keep things moving. Behind them the high school band played “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” with a ra-ra beat and cowbell percussion.
Cute…but not too… as right behind, whirling and spinning like a dervish, was a giant evil faced puppet made entirely of plastic grocery/shopping bags. It reminded me a bit of Nigerian Egungun masquerades where a spiritual whirlwind cleanses the village of evil influence. Would but all those plastic bags disappear worldwide…
Here on this red bricked, old-fashioned Main Street, progressive and traditional ideas coincided comfortably, as quality of life and responsible choices were expressed by newcomers and old-timers alike. Hope for the future was doled out with the locally made ice cream served at the Dairy-Fest, as we felt inspired and remotivated to do our parts to insure a sustainable future for our region and the planet.
Do what you can today, wherever you are, to make a difference for us all… And stay cool…
Over the weekend, just ahead of the wilting weather,locals and out-of-staters gathered to celebrate the arts and sustainable energy,agriculture and the dairy industry in Brattleboro.
Sound a bit dull? Not in the Republic of Vermont, where petitions were signed to impeach Bush and Cheney and every other person it seems is an artist, writer, musician or political activist, as well as organic farmer.
Pamplona, Spain may have her “Running of the Bulls” but Brattleboro and the surrounding area has her more demure “Strolling of the Heifers”!
Streets were lined with the diverse populations that make up this unique community.
Young and old held on to black and white spotted balloons suggesting a bobbing herd of helium filled Holsteins ,as a soulful New Orleans style brass band set the stage.
Theatrical skits spoofing the highly contested nuclear plant entertained, as did unicyclists against GMOS in food production and kids carrying long paper worms promoting composting…
At last, the first band of young doe-eyed calves draped in flower garlands and gently led by their also very young owners rounded the corner closely followed by the heifers, resplendent in flowers as well, who sauntered Main Street to soft applause as not to panic the gentle beasts. Natural accidents did happen, as some stage fright occurred, to the delight of giggling little boys. Attendants dressed as black and white cows or Super Heroes quickly scooped and sprinkled sawdust to keep things moving. Behind them the high school band played “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” with a ra-ra beat and cowbell percussion.
Cute…but not too… as right behind, whirling and spinning like a dervish, was a giant evil faced puppet made entirely of plastic grocery/shopping bags. It reminded me a bit of Nigerian Egungun masquerades where a spiritual whirlwind cleanses the village of evil influence. Would but all those plastic bags disappear worldwide…
Here on this red bricked, old-fashioned Main Street, progressive and traditional ideas coincided comfortably, as quality of life and responsible choices were expressed by newcomers and old-timers alike. Hope for the future was doled out with the locally made ice cream served at the Dairy-Fest, as we felt inspired and remotivated to do our parts to insure a sustainable future for our region and the planet.
Do what you can today, wherever you are, to make a difference for us all… And stay cool…
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