Impressions of Spring

Spring is escorted in by the fervent Robin.

Her gallant efforts to build her nest and then the endowment of the remarkable eggs!

“Robin’s pride” – silk screen/ Karin Aldinger. March 21, 2011

Slow Spring

by Katharine Tynan

O year, grow slowly. Exquisite, holy,
The days go on
With almonds showing the pink stars blowing
And birds in the dawn.

Grow slowly, year, like a child that is dear,
Or a lamb that is mild,
By little steps, and by little skips,
Like a lamb or a child.

“I love thee for thy beauty but not for that alone!”


An Archetype of Love is Besottedness

Our quintessential desire as humans is to be loved by someone with their whole heart.  You can pooh-pooh Valentine’s day but mortals cannot dismiss their impetuous desire for arrant love and affection. A “Hallmark” occasion to some, our expectations of boyfriends, husbands, partners, and lovers still peaks on this day. As a woman I cannot be clearer and its about time we say it out loud, Flowers are  always appropriate ! (just make sure they’re not carnations unless of course you’re willing to make a statement with 50 or more). If not placated with flowers or chocolates or lavish dinners and the “compulsory” lovemaking, injured parties immediately turn into spurned parties. Valentine’s Day churns out a plenitude of unrequited, wounded birds. If you should happen to be “single” on this day do yourself the courtesy of going directly to the florist and purchase a big bouquet of  flowers (don’t skimp) and be sure to include an enclosure. Have the florist fill it out in their handwriting to serve as a smokescreen. The message should imply a certain je ne sais qoi. Enclosure should read something like: “You are fantastique’!” ~ (signed) Totally enamored! If you prefer something with more pizazz and lasciviousness by all means jazz it up. As a rule of thumb ~ any pitfalls, shortcoming or neglect from your beloved should be discarded as the clock strikes 12!


Love is patient and Kind,
It doesn’t envy or Boast and it’s never proud,
Love is not rude or selfish,
It doesn’t get angry easily or keep track of wrongs.
Love doesn’t delight in bad things
But it rejoices in the truth.
Love always protects, trusts, hopes and perseveres.
Love never fails.
— St. Paul to the Corinthians


“Saint Valentine, according to romantic legend, was a kind-hearted Roman priest who married young couples against the wishes of Emperor Claudius II, and was beheaded for his deeds on the 14th of February. In truth, the exact origins and identity of St. Valentine are unclear. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, “At least three different Saint Valentines, all of them martyrs, are mentioned in the early martyrologies under the date of 14 February.” Two of these men lived in the third century A.D., one being the bishop of Interamna (now Terni, Italy) and the other a priest of Rome. (Some speculate that these two figures were actually the same man.) Both seem to have been persecuted for their beliefs; the Roman priest reportedly was beaten and then beheaded on the orders of Emperor Claudius II, on or about the year 270. Legends vary on how the martyr’s name became connected with romance: the date of his death may have become mingled with the feast of Lupercalia, a pagan festival of love, or with the ancient belief that birds first mate in the middle of February. In modern times Valentine’s Day is a day of special romantic sentiment and gift-giving among lovers.”



A Snow-full day

The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter Raymond Briggs
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; 

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Chickadee by Jane Rodway

by Jane Rodway

I called out to
my chickadee,
…”Please come back again!
You have a way,
to brighten my day,
and wash away the pain.”

I sang aloud to
my chickadee,
“I love your voice so fine!
It makes me smile,
happy all the while,
so sunny days are mine.”

I whispered softly to
my chickadee
“Please come close, my friend-
I want to see your sweet face,
help bring Spring to this sad place,
a Spring I hope will never end.”

I thought to myself
“My dear Chickadee,
Why do you fly away?
There’s still so much more,
So much more to explore,
On this bright new day!”