Conversing With the Oaks

~ rabbitpatchdiary.com

Morning has not yet broken as I write this.  It is a lovely, quiet time. for there is no sign of movement  anywhere in this hour.  The street lights shine on empty streets lined with houses void of light.  “Silence is golden” , as my grandmother would say.  Now, I agree with her .  and I am careful not to do anything in these hours that create a sound . . lest, I break the spell.  I will leave that to the boxer.   

By the time that the sun is casting glowing, slanted rays, I start whatever task is at hand.  I am hardly ever at a loss for something to do. Certain tasks give me such a satisfaction, that I am reluctant to wait for dawn .  A few days ago, I waited with great eagerness ro make a cheese and to paint oranges in a painting, I am working on!  I gave in and crept quietly to the kitchen and turned on a small lamp.

I am happy to announce that the yard is at last tidy.  It looks loved , now.  With these last weeks cooler, the roses are celebrating and the cape jasmines are adorned with  an encore of blossoms here and there.  The rose-of-Sharons are blooming, while the hydrangeas are weary.  Not yet, has the confederate rose bloomed. but it is full of “promises”.  I rooted a small stem last year and it is now taller than me!  Cousin Chris and wife, Aino brought a stem of it, the night before  the first frost  last October and declared it would grow very quickly- They weren’t wrong. 

On rainy days, I tend to the old and small cottage.  Organization is a must in a small home. .   and especially  so in the kitchen. I have been cleaning cabinets. Besides improving efficiency for the cook,  (who is liable to become grumpy should she be making gravy or  a meringue, and have to stop to rummage through  a cupboard) . . there is also less waste, which I value, greatly.  I have  one cabinet left to do  and it is over the refrigerator, which I dread.

Though, I stay busy, I still spend a good bit of time wondering  about all sorts of things and entertaining all sorts of notions, too.  I take a stroll around the yard  .  I write little verses in my head as I go along and am apt to converse with the old oaks. I am collecting small pine cones to scent with apple and cinnamon oil.  I look as I walk.   I think that zinnias  are  such nice and cheerful  flowers . . .I hope to plant them  again, one day in early spring.    I wonder if I will ever live in the country again and then, I wish for snow this winter!  The latter days of summer are just splendid, I think-and I regret forgetting to buy some apricot tea.   

In my leisure time, I   “carry on”  in this manner.   . . and on most days. I suppose it has been a habit since I was a child. 

Teachers called it “daydreaming” and apparently it was sinful.   It was the only thing that  I ever got in trouble over.  I was as guilty as the teacher claimed I was in the note to my parents.  I had finished my math and was gazing out the  open window.  I knew Pop was plowing that day and I wished I was there-at home-smelling the dirt.  I knew the seagulls were there , darting and diving behind the tractor.  Seagulls always came inland when a man plowed-they still do. I knew Mama and Grandmama were in the kitchen and I wondered what little sister, Delores was doing. The slap of a ruler on a desk, broke my trance.  Hence, I did my best to restrain myself at school., from such  behavior, though my parents thought the incident was ridiculous. 

So now, I take my sweet time, as I meander, on Bonnet Street. For a while, the cares of this world are abandoned.  I am convinced that conversing with the oaks and thinking about tea and zinnias is profitable for my spirit.

We continue the awful work of cleaning out my parents’ house.  The house is at least half done. The garage has at least been cleaned, but though it is organized, it is still full of all sorts of stuff.  There are shelters and a small storage barn that haven’t been touched .. . and a shop full of tools, (which I will be useless in that task).   It is all exhausting and I am overwhelmed with what is left to be done . . .and yet I can not bear thinking about the conclusion to it.

18 thoughts on “Conversing With the Oaks”

  1. Oh yes dear..final clean outs are time of memories both sadness and happy .Ours was somewhat easier as my youngest sister took over the old house.Its her get away place and she comes every two weeks or so.And then there are the things we have no idea what they are or where the came from..Families have a way of collecting way more the we really need and then someone has to deal with it eventually. You seem settled in your new “old house” but still dream of being back in the country..maybe someday. Take dear and stay safe. I think of our friend Cob so often and just wonder….

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    1. Dear dear Beverly- I have bot been seeing your posts and oh how I worried. I checked and I am still subscibed. I have been absent for a wile and had awful tech problems, as well. Any way, I am thrilled to hear from you and hope wou are well. I would so love a chat. I think of you so often. It comforts me, in these days to know you are in this world. love Michele

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  2. What a sweet, sweet little house you have. How welcoming and homey it looks.I have a love of the small and the cozy. I remember my mothers little cottage where she lived for years in a village in central Maine. Her yard was abloom in the summer, her house was so clean, and she had created such a warm, cheerful place.

    Best of luck with the sorting. I know from experience what a sad, daunting job it is.

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  4. I wish you blessings in this season. It was hard work cleaning out my mother’s house, shed, and yard, after she passed away. Now, looking back, all the family worked together in wondrous ways. It was exhausting, but we worked as a team. We did have to give a great deal away. Since I am the sentimental one, I still have boxes of photos and letters to rummage through. There is a certain joy in reflecting on these bygone days…I sift and sort…and still, I keep things! 🙂

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  6. I for one am grateful for what you call your daydreaming. It leads to beautiful lyric writing which gives great pleasure, even joy. Thank you. I’m sure when you are ready and you will turn to finishing your parents’ you will find a way to make it easier.

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  8. Very comforting. I must say that I totally agree that conversing with Oaks and thinking about tea and Zinnias are profitable to our spirits. Very well said .
    I must share that I have been practicing tree hugging lately , it felt strange as first but now I feel grateful to do so. It creates an inner satisfaction.
    May your days be always blessed.

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  9. Dearest Sparrow:

    I’m certain it will not surprise you that I felt for the first half of your post as if I’d written the words myself. Then I came to “I wish for snow this winter.”. I’m glad for you, during this time, these days, that you have all of your precious time to yourself. I have found this to be one of the greatest tonics for the mind, and a balm for the soul. We can’t help but do, and between we can dream, and at times find such clarity it defies description.
    Richard Bach wrote in Illusions “You are never given a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You may have to work for it, however.”
    Since I’ve known you, I have found you to be the very embodiment of this admonition, and witnessed many times the gifts you have rendered from woes.
    Kindred so, I make an educated guess that your spirit is growing at an exponential rate these days.
    Indeed, I can read it in the words that seem to have come from my own pen.

    All my love,

    Scott

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    1. I have read this several times and treasured your words. I even went to your site this early morning and read everything! I don’t know how I could have ev er missed one. You write as beautifully beautifully as anyone as I have ever read. -and better. Your kindness to me means so much more than you realise, for it fills me fully and deeply. I knew from the start, that you were a treasure. I am so very grateful to know you. love a sparrow

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    1. I knew you would understand. Now,I just visited your site, fo since I have been back, I havent seen any of your posts! I thought you had taken the summer off. I did have a lot of tech issues and still haven’t resolved them all-but I did suscribe so now I can once again be in your good company! love Michele

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  13. Cleaning out a parent’s house is very painful, and I’m so sorry you have to deal with that. Take your time, Michele, and be gentle with yourself. It sounds as though things are moving along nicely with your own house, though!

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