While the Trees Do Not Yet, Keep Secrets

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Night lifted and the day was born-that is how the “morning service” went today.  It was a silent affair, without a lot of fanfare-unless you take in to account, that a new day was born, and with it the chance to live it, to love more deeply and hopefully to understand something more.  

I grumble every year over the “changing of the clocks”, so as is my habit, I will do so again.  My regular readers know, I do not like clocks, in general.  In fact, I realised again today, that every clock in my house is wrong anyway, save the computer and cell phone.  The coffee maker and the stove flash out 12:00 in red light, yet that does not stir me.  The one chiming clock, says it is 12:00 too, as it has needed batteries for more than a year.  I suppose I will not waste moments changing the clocks.

   In the summer, time is irrelevant and somehow, I survive.  I guess, it all started when I was growing up on the farm.  The clock did not wake me -the smell of coffee and breakfast did.  The sound of rain meant, not to rush. The sound of a tractor, meant to hurry.  The sun felt hot by mid morning and we were hungry by “dinner time” roughly noon.  The school said I had to learn to tell time, with plastic clocks.  I remember feeling quite “grown up” when my parents gave me a watch, . . but it promptly became a bracelet.  Dogs know what time it is without such contraptions.  Cash is always on alert, when I drive up.  He and Christopher Robin (my cat) are always sitting side by side looking in the direction, I drive in from.  Somehow, they know when it is Saturday too.  They sleep later and accept breakfast later-but on week days they are up and whining as if they are starving.  I suspect they fear I will leave without feeding them- and it will be a long time til “a clock” says I can come home.  

Jenny called this morning to tell me about Lylas’ latest dream.  We have both, always encouraged Lyla to tell us about her dreams ,when she first wakes up.  Jenny asked Lyla today, if she had sweet dreams and Lyla said “No!”  Lyla went on to say, that she had taken a yellow letter from Mother Goose and then lost it.  Mother Goose was angry and pinched her.  Jenny told Lyla it was just a dream-and Lyla replied “well, that pinch hurt- and that goose is angry.”  Lyla is not yet three. 

Because birthdays are more than a day, at the rabbit patch, I fixed pancakes for breakfast.  Yesterday, Christian wanted cheese biscuits.  I also put on a pot of navy beans for tonight and a pot of chicken and quinoa soup.  Kyle is not likely to touch the quinoa, so I added mushrooms too, as Kyle will not eat those either.  The weather is cool and gray, so conditions are good for cooking such things.  While, the pots simmer, I am scrubbing the kitchen floor and cabinets-and listening to a sermon.  Whatever time it is, I am making good use of the hour.  

Wouldn’t you know the sermon was about dreams?  And . . wouldn’t you know I knocked that chiming clock off the wall, as I was cleaning?  It is a big, heavy clock and the only one I really like.  The chimes are low and soothing . . so I scrambled to catch it-and I did -with my shin.  I had to laugh, in spite of the aching shin.  I think the clock deserves a battery. ..and I ought to stop complaining.

The light was too weak, to cast even the faintest shadow all day.  I spent the whole day cleaning and somehow I came up with another box of items to donate.  I plan to put the house back on the market soon and there is so  much to do to prepare for that.  I am not going to even attempt cleaning the territory until the winds of  March subside.  

I have noticed patches of green grass here and there, in the yard, and every morning, a small flock of robins can be found in the herb garden. The remnants of winter are clearly upon us. 

Sometime, in April, the wisteria will act as a garland for every willing tree in the young woods and the scent of wild honeysuckle will be thick in the air.  Until then, I will celebrate the last days of winter . . .when the trees do not  yet keep secrets and wild violets lie just beneath the soil.   . .for no matter how I measure time, it always seems to slip away dreadfully fast.

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29 thoughts on “While the Trees Do Not Yet, Keep Secrets

  1. What a dreamy post! I just can’t help thinking a book of them would make a lot of people happy! You have such a nice way with words and such a great perspective. Thank you Michele for sharing your day with me! xo

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Wonderful! Children who are read to, end up heads and shoulders above their peers in academic success and in developing goodness and understanding. I call that the heart and the head. ❤️

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      2. I agree-imagination has saved me over and over. I can imagine solutions and really feel the heart of others more deeply. . .besides the many more benefits. I used the Trelease book, when I home schooled my children now decades ago. love Michele

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      3. You used the Trelease book, too? It was like a bible to me when my children were little. And to think that he came to my classroom and I’m included in the latest edition. That boggles my mind! Yes, imagination is everything.

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  2. I can relate to your feelings regarding time and clocks. Time/Clocks are a man invented thing and they boss us around in ways that I dislike. They tell us when you eat even – regardless of whether I’m hungry or not. tsk tsk. Confounded ‘machines’!

    A beautiful post Rabbit, almost written while you’re still sleepy – as it has a dreamy quality about it.
    Adore the share of Lyla’s dream – she is, I feel, an old soul in a new body. She knows things.
    She’s totally adorable and I love her to pieces.

    Thank you for this truly lovely post, Rabbit. Such an enjoyable read which has left me with a feeling of everything is alright in the world.
    Sending you much love, as always ~ Cobs. xxx

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I knew you would agree with me about clocks!! so unnatural to me. What you think of Lyla being an old soul is exactly what I thought about little Cobs. Could we be any more alike? Thank you for being so kind and loving-you are an honored and crowned guest at the rabbit patch-my dear “Lady Cobs” love Michele

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  3. Bless Lyla’s heart. She is a story teller in bud form. I have one of those too. He, after all ,shot a bear in the back yard.
    Spring is out there I am sure,but all the yellow flowers are gone and it went down to 30 degrees again last night. Really cool (cold) this week and with Easter still a ways off who knows what tomorrow may bring.We really shouldn’t complain. After all …we don’t have feet of snow like some of our northern folks do.,No I don’t like the time change. My phone ,which is kinda smart, hasn’t caught up and I don’t know how to help it. Seems the people in Fla. have had enough and aren’t going to play this game anymore.
    Enjoy the rest of this week and love to all.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I naturally wake up at the same time everyday, but now I am an hour late. takes some getting use to then it’s time to go back again. Frost for the last several mornings,.wondering about the figs. Out of my control.

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      2. We at last have had milder temps-and the wind has calmed some. I too worry about our fruit trees. The last three nights, I seem to be on the new pattern of time-Thank you Beverly-I do hope things are going well. I think of you so often. love Michele

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  4. Sigh. The ordering of days and seasons by the five senses is just such a lovely thought. You know the smell of breakfast, the turn over of the engine or twitter of birds, sun warming you and the animals all waking you. I just love this, Michele. Just pausing a bit from the mental “on-ness” and rush that our modern schedules can become if we aren’t careful. Makes me even more grateful about where I live.

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    1. It is funny, and I think a bit true. This amuses her no nonsense dad. He took her out the other day, on the way somewhere and hurriedly-she said “wait daddy!” “Look at the birds and the trees!” haha! thank you dear Bernadette!

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  5. You write the most captivating titles; and this piece is a good example. Just lovely. There is such truth in “..for no matter how I measure time, it always seems to slip away dreadfully fast,” especially since I turned 65. I like your pieces where you let us ramble through your day with you as this one did.

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  6. I am ashamed to admit I have gone all year without re-setting the clocks…I would love to have it stay just like it is and not ever do that time change thing again! Years ago my college roommate from Indiana thought for sure I was joking when I told her we had to turn the clocks back one hour that night…it took forever to convince her it was a real thing! Lyla sounds so adorable, and what a funny retelling of her dream. I hope mother goose is in a better mood for her now!

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