Waking to life

Trillium (Photo by Maurie Kirschner)

Signs are all around

The rains have warmed
From cold to merely cool
Sun breaks through the clouds
With more regularity
Even grey days seem bright

Migrant birds, absent for months
Make their return
Osprey to their waterside perches
Swallows feast over yards and fields
Terns call in their hoarse, harsh voices

Geese lead their young
Who change from golden balls of fluff
To smaller versions of their parents

Once bare branches show color
Leaves and flowers bud
In greens and pinks and whites
Softening stark, bare branches
Against the sky

Gardeners return to their yards
Pruning and mowing
Planting the year’s seedlings
And seeds; the promises
Stored through the winter

Spring speeds the wakening to life

Plugged In and Tuned Out

Plugged in
And tuned out

Headphones on
Blasting your music
or your podcast
Ten feet away I hear it

You can’t hear
The birdsong
The barking of the sea lions
The waves breaking on the shore

Hunched over your phone
Texting, playing games, web surfing

You don’t see
The birds with their young
The fading plum blossom
The new cherry blooms
The procession of colors

Winter to spring
To summer to fall
and back again to winter

Did you miss it?
Were you
Plugged in
and tuned out?

I’ve been watching as winter started changing to spring a bit earlier than we typically expect this year.  The plum trees that line our street were beyond peak bloom before equinox and the start of Spring this year.

Standing at the bus stop on the way to work the other day, I noticed that the ginkgo trees were starting to get some color at the tip of the small spikes that in a few weeks will unfurl into their leaves.  The same morning, the sun was reflecting off the side of the Columbia Tower, and there was a beautiful light in the east as the sun rose and lit up the underside of the high clouds.  Looking around, everyone at the bus stop was plugged in, oblivious to all that was around them except their electronic devices and if that bus at the stop light a block away was the one for which they were waiting.  I see many of the same people daily at this stop, and throughout the turning of the seasons over the past year, it’s been the same scene.

We hear so often “where has the time gone”.  Even when paying attention to the world around, it’s easy to be caught unaware by the changing of the seasons.  How much more so for those who seem to spend their time out of touch with the world around them?

I’m not a big fan of looking to pop culture to guide our lives, but for this, Ferris Bueller nails it:

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Take some time over the next few days and unplug. Put the cell phone down; unplug from the iPod and just sit and take it all in. Pay attention to all that is going on around you, and notice what’s new.

Hummingbird

With a low buzz
A flash of color
Crosses the porch

To the pole outside
Of our dining room

Invisible wings beat
As he dips his long bill
Into the metal “flowers”
Of the feeder

He hovers outside the window
Looking in

I swear I hear him think
You’ve had your breakfast,
Now where’s mine?

Yes, Mr. Hummingbird
I’ll refill your feeder now

Mag 105

image: epic mahoney, courtesy of http://magpietales.blogspot.com

Miles from nowhere
We used to look for a phone
To “reach out and touch someone”

Now we carry our phone
Everywhere
Never out of touch

I long for the chance
To go
To be
Out of contact

Alone with my thoughts
Or
With a special someone
Uninterrupted
Uninterruptable

Because then
Miles from nowhere
Is truly
Somewhere
I want to be

Spiral Staircase

Maurie sitting on the "Staircase" - Washington Park Arboretum - February 19, 2012

Step into the instant twilight
The grove arches above
Growing closer together
Filtering out the light

Stand underneath one
And look up
Branches radiate
Like the spokes of
A haphazard wheel

Thick and close
Spiraling up from the base
A staircase in green and brown
To carry me to the top

Today, Maurie and I spent our afternoon at the Washington Park Arboretum near the University of Washington.  We usually spend most of our time on the east side of Arboretum Drive, but today, we crossed the footbridge and explored the west side of the road some.  Next to a small playground, we found a grove of Sequoia trees.  It felt like twilight when we stepped under their cover.  One of the trees had branches several inches thick growing from it all the way to the ground.  We both set off climbing the tree.  I remember reading stories of John Muir climbing a tree in the Sierras and riding out a storm in it.  As I saw the branches like this and started climbing, I thought of branches growing like this as “Muir’s Staircase.”  Perhaps that is how I’ll always see branches growing like this from now on.

Outside My Window

Icicles outside my window

Drip
 	drip
		drip
The
	sound
		breaks
The silence of the room
Where I begin
My day

I Meditate
And watch a
Drop of water run
Down
The
	rippled
		face
			of
	an
		icicle
And drop

I put on my boots
And stand on the porch

The
Drip
	drip
		drip
Has turned to a constant patter

Like that of a forest
After a hard rain
Is the sound
Of ice and snow
Melting off branches
And dripping from eaves

We’re finishing up a nice bout of snow in Seattle. It started last weekend, and has continued off and on. Yesterday we were even graced with a nice bit of ice on top of all the snow. When I woke this morning and went in to do meditate and do my yoga, I heard the ice melting off of icicles hanging from our eaves, and listened to the rate of the melting and dripping increase.

Luddite, anachronism, or just a tad eccentric?

Recently, I’ve been thinking about technology (imagine that, being in my field and thinking about technology) and my relationship with it.

I’ve been working in Information Technology for almost 14 years now.  For many years, I’ve appreciated the lure of the new shiny, and all the wonderful things that modern technology can do for you.  But there are things I’ve not been able to let go of, and it doesn’t matter how nice and shiny the technological replacement may be.

A Day Begins

For my birthday, my parents gave me a copy of The Poet’s Notebook as a gift.  My mother tells me that she likes my voice when I write poetry, and I get the feeling that they’d like to see and read more of it.  So, in honoring their gift, and hopes for it, here is my first entry:

Musing on bulk buying and organics

This post started out as a reply to a post on a friend’s blog. After writing this fairly lengthy post and thinking “Wow, that’s not a comment, that’s a post in itself!”, I decided to post it here. The original poster can read my comment here!  Please take a moment to read her post before reading on here so you have some context for what I’m writing.

Armistice / Remembrance / Veterans Day

Yesterday, as I was grumbling over transit service reductions and cancellations for today, and trying to plan a route to and from work that 1) didn’t involve taking the car and 2) took less than the 3+ hours round trip I was able to come up with, I started lamenting the fact that I was actually going in to work today.  OK, OK…so I did the last two years as well (and probably with the same grumbling about transit service too).

Then it hit me, if I had today off, what would I do?  Like so many other holidays, it would probably be spent like another weekend day.  Would I take the time to remember those who either by choice, force or lottery gave either their lives or a portion of them in service of their country?  The truth of my answer struck with not a little shame:  probably not.

I think the last time I really did do something was back in ’97 or ’98 when I called my Dad and thanked him for his service. Looking back, I’m not sure that was the best thing to have done.  Dad was not in the military by choice, he was drafted.  Perhaps the better thing to tell him was thank you for learning how you feel about war, and showing me.  So, Dad. If anything good comes out of your time in Vietnam, this is it.  You’ve shared it with me, and through your Testament, you’ve shared it with your grandsons.  I hope it is a lesson well learned and remembered.

I have high school friends, and other acquaintances who went into the military by choice.  To this day, I don’t understand the decision and what drove them.  But they followed what they felt driven to do.  Thankfully, they returned safely from their deployments (and a few are still out serving overseas, hopefully safe today).  For whatever reasons they are or were in the military, I do honor their decision, and wish sincerely that they have come away with positive life-changing experiences.

So today, the day originally to remember the armistice that ended “the War to end all Wars”, I remember those who have served.  Those who made a conscious choice.  Those who were drafted and saw no alternative.  Those who, perhaps, in other countries were forced into service.

Peace to all.  May we, as a global community and race, finally learn to solve our differences and conflicts some other way than by force of arms.