Listen,
the life within
sings its way
out of its cold shell.
Listen,
sounds of spring
blend into a song
of life‘s beginnings.
Listen,
let your ears attune
the notes everywhere
blend into one.
Listen,
Goddess’ songs whisper.
As they begin to waken life,
their melodies gather as one.
Listen
learn the words,
ancient and lovely,
repeat them with joy.
Listen,
join in the chorus,
help the bright blossoms,
bloom into being.
Heartwings says, “Being sure to take care with resources becomes more vital to the earth all the time.”
If I leave the water running when I brush my teeth, I won’t need to turn the faucet on and off, yet that wastes water. If I take the car somewhere unnecessary, let it idle instead of shutting it off, or speed, I waste fuel. Many of the shortcuts we practice in order to save time end up being bad for the planet.
Many towns are banning the use of throwaway plastic bags. They are easily replaced with reusable cloth or disintegrating paper. I try to remember to take my cloth bags from the car. When did we become accustomed to always drinking from plastic straws? The ocean now is polluted with them! What ever happened to paper ones? I save and reuse any I receive in restaurants.
I was raised in a thrifty household. Clothing was passed on or handed down. My mother had a friend with twins a year older than I was. You guessed it, I got two of everything they outgrew! No food was ever wasted: leftovers from a roast went into a casserole, vegetable scraps were boiled for soup as were chicken bones. Mattresses were turned again and again and discarded clothing became rags.
Today these practices are becoming practically routine as thrift becomes a way to conserve the resources of the planet rather than the individual. The cycle has come around and what was once considered “old fashioned” is the current trend. It’s like fashion: If you wait long enough everything, or almost everything, that has gone out of fashion returns again as a new trend. I must say I hope big shoulder pads never do.
Individuals who take care with the planet’s resources, (of which water is one) can make a difference. Daily acts no matter how seemingly small and insignificant, can accumulate. There is a true story to the effect that when the majority of monkeys isolated on an island began washing their food that the practice spread to other islands, communicated somehow through a sense of consciousness. It is said that when enough people act in certain ways that it can influence the actions of others even without their seeing or hearing of it
It is not difficult to help out. When I used to go for walks, which sadly I have had to curtail due to the disability brought on by Parkinson’s, I would also help by picking up trash. Repurposing what may otherwise be thrown away is another way to be kind to the environment. The internet is a good source for ideas for this together with how to accomplish it. All forms of recycling are helpful to our planet. I would not be surprised if in time to come we don’t mine our landfills for the durable materials once discarded, now to be found and recycled from there.
May you discover good ways to contribute your energy to help Mother Earth,
Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert
PS If you have comments, questions, or ideas, do please write and tell me what they may be. I love to hear from readers.
A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective.com.
Heartwings says, “Memories are fun to rummage through, and can be entertaining.”
I don’t use my cell phone often. Usually when I do, it’s to text one of a few friends to share with or for communication with family. So recently, when it rang with a number I didn’t recognize, I figured it was spam. I picked it up and found that it was a call from my grandson inviting us to visit on an app called Face Time. He lives with his wife in Saudi Arabia and he wanted to share his infant son, now four months, with Stephen and me.
Such precious moments are pages in my mental memory album. Some days they show up unbidden to help me recall a time and a place from the recent or even the distant past. One day I had an image of me in my skates, wobbling on a patch of frozen water in a wetland on my Great aunt’s property. I’m around eight years old and I’m wearing my snowsuit with its cute bonnet tied under my chin.
The feeling of the thick woolen snowsuit with its accompanying snow-pants comes back to me, the vivid memory expanding as I think about it. Nylon outerwear and lightweight winter clothing was in the future. Such memories are fun to enjoy and help me recall a childhood spent outdoors. As long as the weather was neither windy or too cold, I was appropriately dressed and sent out of doors to play among the trees and open fields of the property.
Recently I recalled how after there had been a great storm, a large section of a tree trunk, perhaps three feet in diameter and four or five long appeared in the wetlands we called a swamp, though by today’s standards, it really was not. I was delighted to see it and it became part of my fun, serving as a kind of home for small things. I played “house” a lot of the time. Then I found something really special. It was a pane of glass, not chipped, cracked or imperfect in any way, with blue and gold painted around the edges.
As I reflect on it now, it seems to me it was probably part of a picture frame, but then it was a magical item to be cherished and admired, a treasure given me by the sea. It became part of my log home and cherished accordingly. Then one day there was another great storm and when I went to where it had been, the log and the pane of glass were both gone without a trace. I was a bit sad, but soon went on to find other playthings. Still the items remain, standing out in my memory of my childhood spent outdoors in nature.
I know now how fortunate I was to have this special time growing up. So many children do not have that experience. Nature is such a fine teacher. Her school provides a lifelong experience that surpasses anything a computer or a cell phone can provide.
May you have recollections to enjoy from time to time
Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert
PS Love to hear your reminiscences, and hoping you would like to share. Please write me at tashahal@gmail.com, and sign up here at my blog to get more Love Notes at http://tashasperspective/pujakins.
Heartwings says, “Nature is a wonderful teacher.”
My dandelion headed five-year-old was saying his prayers. He included the caterpillars in their jars on the window sill. We had filled the jar with what we hoped was the appropriate leaves for food and twigs to climb, and each night we prayed for them. The time was 1968, and my son was one of five, active, bright, friendly, loving children.
The caterpillars munched, spun cocoons on the twigs, and were quiet. We waited in vain for butterflies to emerge. Together we concluded that caterpillars did not do well in captivity and perhaps it was better for them to go free. Lessons on many levels were learned from the experience. I don’t know whether my son remembers the caterpillars, but he is now a grown man with a strong sense of curiosity, a fine capacity for observation and a desire to do some good in the world. The eager child lives on in the man.
One day the family visited someone who had guinea pigs. Naturally the children were fascinated and the pet shop that sold us our first pair agreed to buy back progeny. I was delighted at the opportunity to give the children a first hand lesson in biology, and all went well until we elected to do a breeding experiment. Unfortunately our breeding program coincided with a glut of guinea pigs at the pet shop. My living room filled up with boxes holding a total of fifteen furry squeakers and any time the refrigerator door opened, a chorus of squeals filled the house.
In the process my oldest daughters found out first hand that one cannot always rely on original solutions but must plan for contingencies, and of course they had graphic experience in where babies come from! Now that they have their own children, they have fostered the same sense of adventure in their offspring and have carried on the same love affair with nature.
Nature is a great teacher of many things, and the care with which it is arranged has a significant message for us. We are part of the cycles of emergence, growth, and return to the whole. We circulate life energy the way a tree does. Once we believed we were in charge but this conviction is eroding with our recognition of the results of that belief. Our attunement to the part we play in the natural order of life seems to me to be more important than ever to our growth as healthy, positive human beings.
Parenting seems best learned by experience. Children are resilient, and with goodwill and good luck most of us will succeed in raising well-adjusted children. Doing what we most enjoy with our youngsters often results in happiness for all, but observing and participating in the processes of nature can easily and quickly return us to the joys of childhood as well as bring us pleasure in the present.
Looking together at snowflake crystals, searching for seashells, tenderly weeding small gardens—the days of my companionship with my children are cherished memories. I learned as much from them as they did from me. Too, nature is a great teacher and I am grateful to her for the lessons I learned as well as the beauty I have seen and enjoyed. I am proud, too, of my children for their positive attitudes and approaches to life, often learned at Mother Nature’s knee. And I say with my son, God bless the caterpillars, God bless them all.
May you find your pleasure in nature’s bounty.
Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert
PS Thanks for reading this. Please write to me and share your experiences of joy and happiness. I so do like hearing from readers. Email me by hitting reply or by writing me at tashahal@gmail.com. My blog on WordPress to sign up for my weekly writing is https://tashasperspective.com/Pujakins.
Heartwings says, “Take the time to look around you, especially when you are in nature.”
From the age of seven or eight onward, I often accompanied my father, a horticulturist as well as an arborist, when he visited clients. To this day my eye is drawn to the needs of trees as I pass them or visit with their owners. I have a great regard for the beauty of trees in every season.
Trees have always been special to me. I spent many days climbing and perched in them, reading or drawing. One of my greatest delights as a child was to sit in the big Beech tree toward the middle of my great aunt’s estate where I grew up, to read. I was a voracious reader and devoured books, especially tales of adventure. One of my very favorites was The Swiss Family Robinson, about a shipwrecked family that built and lived in a tree house.
I was fortunate in growing up surrounded by nature. The property where we lived was first developed by my great grandfather, an amateur horticulturist with a great interest in flowers and trees. In his large garden he grew a variety of vegetables, in other, smaller ones, flowers.
My father and mother gardened as well. My practical mother grew vegetables, my romantic father grew roses and many other kinds of flowering bulbs and annuals. My love of nature grew as I did. I wrote poetry about it at an early age. Sometimes I created little booklets for my mother. Happily for me, she saved them and gave them back some thirty years later.
Because I was an only child until I was eight and a half, and we had no close neighbors with children near my age, I spent much of my time alone. I didn’t really mind this; I made my own fun by playing out imaginary scenarios based on my reading. The property we lived on was large, and I could wander it safely. Now, some eighty years later, though still in the same state, I live far from where I grew up. Yet the nature of my childhood still takes my eye and inspires me.
Driving the roads where I live, I am delighted in every season by the trees and the gardens I pass. The loveliness of the spring, summer and fall in New England is equaled by the graceful bare branches of trees in winter, stretched across the sky.
Beauty is where we find it, and if we are of a mind to seek it, it is everywhere. The wildflowers in their season that spring up by the side of the road are wonderful to see, as are the bright dandelions that grow in various cracks and crevices as well as on lawns where they are allowed. Drops of dew or raindrops that linger in spiderwebs or stretches of weed patches catch the light and glisten where that marvelous artist, nature, puts them. When I take the time to look, in every season there is always something to be seen, and I am ever grateful.
May you find beauty each day, and be grateful for what you find.
Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert
PS If you have stories or experiences to share, or comments or questions for me, I’d be so happy to read them. It is a joy to hear from readers. Thank you for reading and know that I appreciate you.
Heartwings says, “Taking care of ourselves is very important, and dandelions can help.”
I have always loved dandelions. My memory holds an image of my four-year-old self making a crown for my mother–picking the dandelions, carefully slitting each stem and then poking the heads through to make a bright golden circle. I also remember picking great bunches of them to give her and being disappointed when they closed up, never to reopen. I love to spot them flowering in vacant lots or beside city buildings; their cheerful brightness refreshes my soul. These little golden suns are starting to show up everywhere these days.
Some will groan and go out to buy weed killer. Big mistake! In addition to the damage most weed killers will do to the surrounding denizens of the year with paws or wings, not to mention humans, when you know how to use them, the greens are good food. You can use them in salad as well as cook them. Somewhat bitter, dandelions are nutritious food. In addition, you can add the steamed greens to steamed kale, collards, spinach or asparagus and whirl them together with garlic and olive oil in a food processor. Promise you won’t experience the bitter at all.
Dandelions contain a whole pharmacy of healthy ingredients. According to Susan Tyler Hitchcock, writing in Gather Ye Wild things, one half cup fresh dandelion greens provides 14,000 milligrams of Vitamin A, as well as half our daily requirement of vitamin C, plus minerals–most especially potassium, calcium and others.
Still want to poison them? Consider that every part of the plant is edible, that the early settlers who brought the seeds here from England used to make coffee from the roasted roots, and that your liver as well as your kidneys will greatly benefit from eating the fresh or sautéed plant. Anyone who wishes to diet will do well to eat dandelions as well as drink dandelion tea, available in health food stores in tea bag form. It is a healthy, inexpensive diuretic. It makes a great wine. It’s easy, tasty, and fun to share.
Ingredients: three lemons, three oranges, six cups of sugar, one package of dry yeast, a quart of dandelion blossoms and a gallon of boiling water. Method: Slice the lemons and oranges into a bowl. Pour the sugar into the bowl and stir to blend. Leave over night. At the same time, pour the boiling water over the freshly picked blossoms in a large crock, or enamel or stainless-steel pot and leave overnight. Never use an aluminum vessel.
The next day, combine all in the large crock or pot, sprinkle with yeast, cover with a cheesecloth or netting and leave for five days. On the sixth day, strain out the fruit and blossoms, bottle the liquid, and cap with a balloon. Set aside to ferment. When balloons hang limply, fermentation is done. Cork tightly and store at least six months, the longer the better. This recipe makes about five bottles of a slightly sweet, mellow, green/golden wine. It is best served after dinner or as a special treat. To me it tastes like a Spring Day.
May your dandelions nourish you in whatever form you have them.”
Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert
PS Please write to me with your thoughts, messages and suggestions. I so enjoy your dear letters and will always answer you sooner or later; that’s a promise. My email is tashahal@gmail.com and my website is www.heartwingsandfriends.com .
My father was an arborist, and my father’s grandfather was an amateur horticulturist. In my mind I can still see the small orchard of a dozen trees he planted on part of his property. He also designed extensive gardens around the house and scattered over the lawns. Growing up next door to his home, where my Great Aunt Alice still lived, was a very special experience. The property was large in area, and I was able to spend much of my time outdoors. Actually, any time the weather permitted, I was sent outdoors “to play,” as my mother was a firm believer in the importance of fresh air. It is also possible she wanted me out from under her feet.
Some of my fondest memories are of the trees on the property. The apple orchard with many different varieties that blossomed and fruited throughout the spring, summer and fall, was a special place. The big birch tree that stood sentinel over my small garden where I planted flowers I was given by Aunt Alice’s gardener, was a favorite. I loved chewing the bark. The big beech tree whose branches I used for my primitive tree house were my home away from home. Wherever I have lived since, there have been special trees I have enjoyed.
Outside my bedroom is a maple tree. Maple tree blossoms dangle from the tree’s branches and I watch them every day as they grow. I enjoy observing the tree all year round, but especially in the spring when it goes through so much activity. When the sun shines, the little green blossoms make a filigree design that graces the no–longer bare branches. When I go outside, gazing up I see how the trees in the little wood beside our building paint their leaf buds against the blue spring sky. So inspiring!
Though our usual destinations—supermarket, P.O., library, and so forth are not available now, we do need to run the car. We found this out the hard way when we wanted to drive it, and it wouldn’t start. According to our mechanic, letting the car sit and run wasn’t giving the battery enough “juice” to start up after days of idleness in the parking lot. Somehow time had gone by without our notice, and since we weren’t going anywhere, we didn’t think of running the car.
However, this has turned out to be the perfect month to take the car out for some exercise. There are trees everywhere with flowers radiating beauty even when the sun isn’t shining. The yards and streets of our town are filled with blossoming branches. The duty of driving around to exercise the car has become a joyful experience. The lovely gardens in front of people’s houses, as well as our public buildings are another treat to see. I must be extra mindful not to get distracted.
While it is true that I would have enjoyed the trees and gardens regardless, the fact that they are my reason for going out greatly enhances my appreciation of them. Recently, my heart rejoiced to see another maple tree. the tiny fan of brand-new leaves was just emerging beneath the small green flowers. The leaves shone with their newness, reaching for the sunlight like the hands of a little baby. Nature is such a wonderful comforter in these times of stress.
One house we lived in had a window in the upstairs bathroom with a view of trees and fields. Each year in August I would look out this window in anticipation of the bright red patch that always appeared in an otherwise green expanse of a maple tree. It seemed that much brighter for being surrounded by the remaining green leaves. Later the rest of the tree would turn red, yet there was something very special for me about that first splash of color.
Perhaps that is because it heralded my favorite time of year. I cherish the first tinges of red and yellow beginning to blossom in the trees by the roadside. It is truly said that the strong colors of fall echo the pastel shades of spring except that they are strong and vivid. I have also noticed that in the weeks before the autumn colors emerge, the green of tree leaves takes on a grayish look that hints at the ageing of the leaves, preparing them for their ultimate brilliance. The other colors are present in the leaves all along. When the cooler weather comes, the green disappears and the red and yellow take over.
Fall colors are lovely and bright. Pumpkins, squash, chrysanthemums, apples, and fiery leaves are all part of its panorama. Highway vistas of hills plumped up with pillows of brilliant hue are a delight to drivers and passengers alike. As spring is a time of tentative melodies and pastel colors so fall is loud and strident, its colors are bold, its thunders vibrate around us. Farmstands open up and share their bounty with passers by. In more rural areas little collections of garden produce appear by the side of the road with prices and trustful boxes for payment.
When I was a child I delighted in scuffing through the rustling leaves. I loved the sounds and the tastes of fall. The sweet concord grapes that grew on the fence around my great aunt Alice’s garden tasted so wonderful. I was equally happy to breathe the slightly sharp air of fall that held a tinge of the frosts to come. I didn’t care much for raking the leaves, however I got paid to do it and that helped. I never tended my parents’ gardens, nor was I asked to. Later when I had a garden of my own, as fall emerged I hurried to pick the last tomatoes as well as the remaining marigolds. However I paid someone to rake the leaves.
Busy squirrels scurry around storing up food for the winter. Some alas are harvested by swiftly traveling automobiles. These provide a feast for the crows, so nothing is wasted. Autumn is a time for all of us to store food. My mother busily canned and later froze her garden produce. When I had a large freezer I did too. I loved the feeling of providing for my family. Now I can’t store much food for the future, however I can take advantage of the seasonal plenty. I got out my old Fanny Farmer’s cookbook and looked up apple recipes. We had Apple Brown Betty for supper. Yummy! Fall is my favorite time of year and I rejoice in its bounty as well as its beauty.
When we call our planet Mother Earth we are speaking the literal truth. Although our bodies grew inside and were birthed by a human mother, the elements that comprise it are derived from the substance of earth. The mother of us all, whether as individuals or collectively, is our planet. One of the names of our mother is Gaia. There are many who believe she is a living entity in which, along with every other living thing—animate or inanimate, we are cells.
As her children it behooves us to treat our mother the earth with respect. Not everyone looks at Earth this way. Some believe that humanity is privileged and can take what ever they wish from her substance for their own benefit. They do not treat our mother with respect. Taking advantage of her bounty they use it without regard for its possible limits or parameters. Pollution by virtue of pesticides, over fishing, strip mining, and other common practices injure the health of our planet. People who respect their mother do not act in ways that cause her harm.
Individuals who care can make a difference. Daily acts no matter how seemingly small and insignificant, can accumulate. There is a true story to the effect that when the majority of monkeys isolated on an island began washing their food that the practice spread to other islands, communicated somehow through a sense of consciousness. It is said that when enough people act in certain ways that it can influence the actions of others even without their seeing or hearing of it. We need to think about actions of convenience to us that may mean we are taking advantage of our mother earth.
If I leave the water running when I brush my teeth I won’t need to turn the faucet on and off, yet that wastes water. If I take the car somewhere within walking distance, let it idle unnecessarily, or speed when driving I waste fuel. Many of the shortcuts we practice in order to save time end up being bad for the planet. Many towns are banning the use of throwaway plastic bags. They are easily replaced with reusable cloth or disintegrating paper. I just need to remember to take my cloth bags from the car.
Doing things the easy may be hurtful to our mother earth. When did we become accustomed to always drinking from plastic straws? The ocean now is polluted with them! What ever happened to paper ones? Repurposing what may otherwise be thrown away is another way to be kind to the environment. The internet is a good source for ideas for this together with how to accomplish it. All forms of recycling are helpful to our planet. I would not be surprised if in time to come we mine our land fills for the durable materials once discarded now to be found and recycled from there. I can also help by picking up trash when I go out for a walk–and the bending is good exercise. On Mothers’ Day and always I am working to remember to be as kind to my Mother Earth as I can be.
Though I am fonder of some than of others, for me every season has its unique blessings. Autumn has always been a favorite of mine because I like the crispness of the air and the vivid colors that paint the scenery. However, the cycle of the seasons produces different feelings in everyone and we all have our favorites. It may be that as a poet I am more sensitive to or pay more attention to the change of the seasons because I feel it so keenly. Winter for me is a time for rest and often for extra sleep. The dark hours encourage it. During the winter, like the bare branched trees and the hibernating creatures, I am less active and more inclined to quieter occupations.
It’s easy to sleep late in the winter. The light does not come through the curtains until morning is well advanced. Chilly weather does not encourage leaving warm covers for frigid floors. Yet as the light hours grow longer and the dark ones shorter, the day calls to me sooner and sooner. Reluctant as I may be to get up from my bed, it becomes less alluring to linger than to rise into the day. Even as the trees and the birds greet the brightening weeks, with the spring, something in me begins to wake up.
Winter encourages me to make soups and stews. My pantry and refrigerator are stocked with warming foods. With the advance of spring I think more about salads and lighter meals. I toss the cold weather recipes that I have accumulated yet not found time to make and clip out more recent ones geared to fresher, less sturdy meal components. Now that I can see it, when I look around at the winter dust on shelves and surfaces, I feel more diligent about eliminating it. Somehow when I can’t see it, it is so much easier to ignore. Now it no longer is.
When I was out and about, my eyes had become accustomed to bare trees sleeping in the cold. All winter I admired the still shapes of the bare branches against the sky. Now as the trees blossom and leaf out, they seem to be dancing with joy. The spring breezes flutter the trees’ new emerging clothing as they dress themselves in their fresh spring wardrobes. When I go about my errands, my heart sings along with the turning wheels of my car.
When I used visit my daughter in Italy, she would come into my room of a morning to waken me from my jet-lagged sleep. She would open the curtains and turn to me as I clung to my pillow. “Wakey, wakey,” she’d say with a smile. Finally I’d open my eyes and greet the day, glad to be awake and alive, ready for a new adventure. Spring feels like that. It is time to pursue the new, the untried, the innovative. Time to put away the darker, heavier winter clothes and put on light, bright colors and fabrics, to free the feet of boots and don sandals. Time to awaken to the new season and to rejoice in it.
Pujakins 