Dear Rabbit Patch Diary

15555806_1401641409860823_1204709379_n

“The time of the singing of birds,has come.”  It is officially spring.  I do not consult a calendar to know when the seasons change.  I watch the landscape and note the changes.  I understand the science of how humans interpret the arrivals of seasons, but the cherry trees really have “the say”, I think-along with the songbirds.  Blackbirds fly when they ought to and bluebirds set up housekeeping without needing consultation.

Frost covered the fields and pastures this morning, so my geraniums still sit in the windowsill, of the old house at the rabbit patch.  My winter coat remains in a handy location and just might til mid April.  

The purple Martins have yet to return. No other bird sings like the Martins.  Martins winter in South America and there they learn to sing  songs like the tropical birds, with all sorts of trills.  Daddy has had Martin houses as long as I can remember.  Right around his birthday (March 15th), we would look for the “scouts”.   They are the early birds , and the “elders”.   Martins often return to the same  community  for the breeding season.  The elders have been there before, and so they survey the familiar sight to see if it is still suitable.  I have read that they recognize the humans where they nest.  I wonder how many generations have known my parents.  Several times, daddy’s birthday has marked the first sightings of the birds that look purple in sunlight and sing in the ” language  of flowers”.  Many springs I have hung clothes on the line, while a purple martin sang.

I have really missed the children this week.  My holiday was just long enough, for me to get used to all of us being together.  I have tried to stay  especially busy, because of that.  There is no shortage of things to do, but no matter how much I try,  I manage to pine for their company.  Not even, the ice cream cake, left from the Christians’ birthday party has comforted me-and believe me I tried that on more than one occasion.  This weekend, I plan to begin the spring clean up on the rabbit patch territory.  Just the thought of it, makes me weary, but it is rewarding work and may put an end to my whining about the kids growing up . . .again.  There are several sections of the picket fence in need of repair and all sorts of debris to be picked up.  There is  also the mowing.  Work always helps me keep things in their proper perspective. 

On the week ends, I pretend I am a writer.  I do not imagine to be famous.  I do not imagine, I have any great wisdom that the world is in need of, either.  I just pretend to be a writer that earns enough to have bread and hyacinths.  Imagination is a wonderful saving grace.  We always tend to think it is best suited for childhood, but it is imagination that allows your heart to feel the plight of fellow humans.  I think that compassion is a direct result of imagination.  When I have found myself in a quandary,  imagination allows me to see past it, and believe I will come through it-and that all will be well again.  Lyla is just now starting to pretend.  Her aunt “B”   gave her a lovely little kitchen.  Lyla cooks and serves us empty plates  and  empty cups .  If we drop a dish she says “uh-oh!” and sets to cleaning it up.   We take this “play” very seriously-she and I.   I try never to disturb her when she is pretending- besides, sometimes, it is nice to have tea with a fairy, I think. 

Dear rabbit patch diary, tonight, the house is chilly enough to warrant, I sit beneath a soft blanket.  I will need the winter coat in the morning, again and- I will notice the poor condition of the yard on the way to the car, but I can also imagine that the wild violets will awaken soon, and the purple martins will come-and it won’t be too long before the geraniums will be  blooming-  on the rabbit patch porch .

Advertisements

25 thoughts on “Dear Rabbit Patch Diary

      1. Thank you for saying I am kind. I try to be what God wants me to be – a good person. You truly have a gift for writing – I wish I was as talented at doing that as you are.

        Like

  1. Reading one of your paragraphs would make anyone know you are a writer, and a very good one. Our bluebirds have been very active, and other birds serenaded us on our morning walk. It’s a glorious time of the year. Good luck with your clean up. And keep writing! I love your posts.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You are definitely a writer! I can easily visualize the wonderful Rabbit Patch and that means that you have a strong voice when you write! So…just keep putting your imagination into words and soon you will internalize the reality of being a writer…and that is what I think about that!!! Hope you have an absolutely pleasant and peaceful weekend!

    Like

  3. You bring pictures to my mind when I read what you write. That is why I return to your blog again and again. The blog is like a song that remains in your head for days on the end.
    I can see NC through your words and also sometimes the pathos that is in your heart. Sometimes I feel I can read the love of nature like that of Wordsworth in your words- I don’t know how to describe it better.
    Susie

    Like

  4. I really wanted to click a “love” button! Beginning to end I loved it. As a kid my folks had purple martins but then a disease wiped them out. I would love to attract some of them to our place.
    I could just picture you and Lyla having tea. Puts me in mind of my little fairy – Madison.
    I am also waiting for that carpet of violets to arrive….then I will know it is spring and it is here to stay.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Yes, indeed, you are a writer of imagination who entrances me with your words. What a clever and true sentence this is, “Blackbirds fly when they ought to and bluebirds set up housekeeping without needing consultation.” I’ve never seen nor heard a martin. Oh, how I wish I could. They sound lovely; and to think you were raised with them! I especially enjoyed your discussion of imagination and the good it does in our world. Lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I love hearing from you-you are so thoughtful and inspire me. Thank you-and I bet you can hear a martin-there is a a website devoted to birdsongs. I do not remember the name but i bet a search would work-they are very tropical sounding. Still haven’t heard one this year. Imagination has saved me on occasion! oh thank you again!!! xxoo

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Imagination is a very important part of grown-up-ness.
    In Big People World we can call it fancy names like “research” and “invention”.
    It was described to me this way:
    “That which is seen was first unseen.” , meaning things in the real world, like automobiles, televisions, microwave ovens, spacecraft, cell phones and shoes for horses did not exist before someone invented them.
    Therefore, they were seen only in “the mind’s eye” of imagination before they came into being.

    Seek peace, and keep imagining,

    Paz

    Liked by 1 person

I love comments

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s