Blackberry Pickin'

sweet, juicy and ripe
stop and snatch a few to eat
bushes do abound


The berries from the fresh air market or the town organic market may be plumper and hold a sweeter taste--but stopping along the road to pick blackberries brings back kid memories. Cathy and I picked many berries on the top Edgewood and even made our first jam when I was ten. But the art of berry picking was perfected as we procrastinated by the mile long bushes on those many, long, tedious hikes during my camp days as a teen. To ward off hunger until the next meal we lined up off the shoulder of the road to Guernville. Campers and counselors, alike, picked and ate, picked and ate. We didn't need buckets--we plopped the soft, delicate nuggets on our tongues. Berry stains on mouth and t-shirts were the only telltale signs of our detour back to camp. How fun to remember those happy hiking moments as the blackberry bushes once again provide a roadside treat in a whole new land.

In the Morning Mist...

gentle misty drops
blowing across hedge and lane
wet days delight me

02-09-06
Our newly discovered neighborhood adventure is to explore a nearby country road, lined with blackberry hedges and pocked with puddles and pot-holes. This morning, we particularly enjoyed an INVIGORATING WALK as our two ol’ black pups and Em and I, who were clad in rain gear, hiked up and down the misty, blowy lane to look about the local graveyard. While surprised at the age span recorded on the gravestones as well as the variety of decorations at the plots, I was taken with the scattering of site edgings that simply directed visitors to “sit and pray” “kneel and pray” or “sit and talk”. Engraved on one beautifully designed granite headstone, I appreciated reading “Do not think of me as gone. I am still with you in each new dawn.”

Puttering in the Patio

Putter, dig, fix, grill
Sacred private patio
Holy is this space





The thick cement walls are six feet high, which shelter me from the outside world when I want to spend some time moving and doing in the privacy of our enclosed patio. BBQing on the grill, cutting firewood, potting plants, fixing broken stuff or just sitting in the sun become contemplative activities.

Night Life

unsettled cows moo
dogs bark to warn intruders
holes poke through the sky

For a number of nights I have been aware of the sounds of the night. As I welcomed the familiar sounds, smells and feel of the sea, my ears opened to the mooing of the cows on the hill. What caused their nervousness? Following the sounds of cow anguish, the farm dogs barked their warning to stay away to perhaps, walkers returning from a few pints at the pub-or-are there predatory animals lurking on the hillside? I will listen for new sounds of the night.

Field Mushroom Addiction

furrow and devour
Consume each morsel with lust
response to “come”--ZILCH

Taking walks for the past month with my dog Shadow has become a dreaded moment rather than our usual easy-going stroll. Shadow has discovered field mushrooms and she just cannot eat enough of them. One or two to compliment her daily feed of dry dog food wouldn’t be a worry, but THIS dog does not understand the word enough. We think the hillside varieties of mushrooms are non-poisonous, but we are not completely certain. When approaching a fungus field, I quickly snap on Shadow’s leash until we pass the temptation. So far, the days when she found her delights(before confinement with mandatory restraint) have not caused any negative side effects. Then again, what can you expect from a dog with an iron stomach that was not fazed one bit after eating two pounds of SEES rich dark chocolate a few Christmas seasons ago. I await the end of mushroom season on the hill.

cuppa tea

sweet, amber, steaming
satisfying cuppa tea
you make me sigh so.

I wake to the--drip--drip--drip of the rain from the vent on the bedroom wall. The thick, concrete walls muffle the fierce droning of the wind. Hmmmm, I do believe this is a day to start s-l-o-w-l-y with a cuppa tea and a bedside read. I sigh deeply, knowing I am privileged to stay—sleepy—cozy—warm, and not have to rush into my bright crimson raincoat and mud splattered wellies. I will join the outside world later.