Watchman of the Day

The owl is the watchman of the day,
prelude of a new dawn,
ally of the sun,
keeps an eye on our fears,
on dreams and visions in the night,
flying around our houses wrapped in darkness

Il gufo é il guardiano del giorno,
preludio di nuova alba,
alleato del sole
vigila sulle nostre paure,
sui fantasmi della notte,
volando attorno alle nostre case
avvolte nelle tenebre.

 

Excerpt from Io gufo e tu?
@Edizioni del Baldo April 2016

 

I Walk a Mile

I put your shoes on
The left shoe is worn
A hole in the sole
Tape surrounds the leather exterior
It covers the hole

The right shoe doesn’t match
It seems smaller, less worn
It is binding, tight
It is borrowed

I walk a mile, maybe two
An unbalanced stride
My left foot is cold
My right is blistered
I respect your journey

1430640014_footprints-on-the-sand_800Please let us all move forward being mindful of those who have different struggles

Linda MacCoy

 

Winter Ramblings ~ Solstice Celebration

And so it arrives today, the first day of winter. The wheel of the year turns the old Earth towards the sun once again. Hail the precious seconds at dawn and dusk when our great star creeps back into our daily lives. The dreary darkness gives way to the light. The return of the light ~ Winter Solstice.

unnamedThe day is calm and warm. Snow and ice cling to the earth already. The harsh frost filled morning melts into a tranquil afternoon. On this day, celebrate simply with an offering of seeds and suet to the birds. Enjoy the blue jays, morning doves, juncos and sparrows. Welcome the chickadee and finch. Give them a free meal today. In remembrance of the Earth, put out a simple feast of cake and wine. A little something to thank her for all she gave us this year and all she will give next.

At this time of year, I always remember Thoreau and his reflections from Walden Pond.

“For sounds in winter nights, and often in winter days, I heard the forlorn but melodious note of a hooting owl indefinitely far; such a sound as the frozen earth would yield if struck with a suitable plectrum, the very lingua vernacula of Walden Wood, and quite familiar to me at last, though I never saw the bird while it was making it. I seldom open my door in a winter evening without hearing it; Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoorer hoo,” Thoreau, Walden: Winter Animals.

How pleasant to pause in the yard and hear the nuthatch ambling up the maple tree. The grey squirrels take their graceful leaps and bounds searching for food. The sun watches all low on the horizon. The river twinkles in the distance through the trees. A blessed place this is to take a rest. Now is the time for reflection on what has past and what is now and what is yet to come.

barn-owl-in-snowCelebrate the simple life at home with the creatures of the earth and sky. Make a sincere offering of thanks. Stay warm, stay well and blessed be.