The Holiest of All Holidays

Tags

Longfellow, photography, Poetry, Tybee

Sunrise on Tybee Island, Georgia

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;–
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;–a fairy tale
Of some enchanted land we know not where,
But lovely as a landscape in a dream.

~~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Inundated

Detail of one of our palm trees.

Did I say stillness would follow all the activity? Life is laughing at me. Instead of stillness, I’ve been inundated with editing, meetings, a youth event, keeping up with my daily blog, and that which takes the most time—battling nature.

A hot and extremely wet and humid summer had the plant life here attempting to change our zone to something a little more tropical. The woman who bought and fixed up this house (the previous couple had lived here for more than 30 years) just razed most of the overgrowth. And, now it is all trying to grow back—every tree stump has sprouted leaves; briars and various vines are valiantly trying to take over everything that is still standing—from azaleas to live oaks.

So, as the weather has gotten progressively cooler, we’ve been able to spend a little more time in the yard, slowly taming the wildness into something a little more pleasing to the eye. Battling the mosquitos and fire ants (my husband has dubbed me “Kali, the Destroyer of Fire Ants” because they die by the hundreds; I feel bad, but have you been bitten by them?). Vines and stumps are being uprooted.Gone are the boxwoods (I really don’t like those shrubs–they smell like cat urine), but the camellias, azaleas, hydrangeas, and palm trees remain, though now they are vine-free. The caladiums and ferns are beginning to thrive and there is just one tree left to remove as we prepare the back yard for a goldfish pond.

There is still a lot of work left to do—gutters and rain barrels for the house and detached garage, cross ventilation for the crawl space, which tends toward dampness, and then a raised rose bed alongside the house to further fight yard flooding.

And, in the spring, I hope to plant a small garden behind the garage, but that’s months away. Take it slowly by slowly, I remind myself–a phrase I picked up in Kathmandu–although then it referred to animal sacrifice (to Kali, by the way).

Fortunately, it hasn’t been all work—I am still taking the time to read and write, practicing my yoga and meditation, and watching good movies when I get a chance (just a month until the Savannah Film Festival).

And last night, we had a wonderful dinner with our daughter at her workplace–an iconic British pub downtown. All in all, life is good.

Breathe In, Breathe Out

 

Being an island unto myself,
Buddha is my mindfulness, shining near, shining far.
Dharma is my breathing, guarding body and mind.
I am free.
As an island unto myself,
Sangha is my five skandhas working in harmony.
Taking refuge in myself, coming back to myself,
I am free.
Breathing in, breathing out,
I am blooming as a flower,
I am fresh as the dew.
I am solid as a mountain,
I am firm as the Earth.
Breathing in, breathing out,
I am water reflecting what is real, what is true;
And I feel there is space deep inside me.
I am free.

Happy Hollow

It’s so quiet here in Happy Hollow Campground here in Nathan Bedford Forrest State Park. Actually, it has been quiet all day. My hikes have only been interrupted by woodpeckers, owls and songbirds and the occasional scurry of a squirrel. Even the deer I saw today seemed disinclined to move away from me.

I have to admit that I liked the name of the campground, but lest it be too ironic should something happen to me, I chose Campsite 13 to camp in. Although an alternate story would be, “she should have known better than to camp in site 13! Bwahahaha.”

Meanwhile the wind is blowing in some herring-scale clouds and the even colder front that is supposed to hit tomorrow. Oh, well. Thank goodness, I have only one park left–Natchez Trace–before I head back to South Georgia where I understand the temperatures are much warmer.

My favorite thing about this site (other than the fact that it is so close to the playground, which has an awesome slide and swings–yes, I tried them both), are all the violets. I’ve always been partial to violets–February’s flower.

No photos today. My Mifi just isn’t up to it.

Winter Feast for the Soul

Yes, I know this is a Sunday blog, but the Third Order, Society of Saint Francis brought something to my attention which seemed too good not to share–Winter Feast for the Soul.

According to the website:

The Winter Feast for the Soul event takes place every January 15th – February 23rd, and unites people in their commitment to a 40 day practice of stillness. The commitment to 40 minutes of practice each day for the 40-day period of the Feast allows people to have a life changing experience of the importance and impact of stillness. We embrace all forms of practice that bring an individual to a period of stillness in their daily life.

Please mark your calendar for January 15 and join us! 2014 marks the seventh year of the Winter Feast for the Soul, and we have an outstanding faculty of teachers who are already preparing. Winter Feast is free to all, and is expanding globally each year. Whether it is summer or winter where you are in January, we hope you will join us. Click here to receive more information.

Additionally, the site notes that the 40 minutes of practice can include:

• Meditation
• Prayer
• Yoga
• Martial arts
• Journaling
• Expressive arts
• Daily acts of kindness toward self and others

And for those of us who observe Lent, this is a wonderful introduction into carrying that practice forward once Lent begins on March 5.