Rain

rain-poem-raymond-carver

~ “Rain” by Raymond Carver


Source: Schonwieder

Monday Morning

coffee-morning

She sips her coffee, sets it down, stretches her arms.
This is one of the most singular experiences,
waking on what feels like a good day,
preparing to work but not yet actually embarked.
At this moment there are infinite possibilities, whole hours ahead.

— Michael Cunningham, The Hours


Credits: Quote: Et in Arcadia Ego*.  Image: Falling To Pieces

 

Post Long Weekend Wake-Up Call

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Source: Lemur via Exactly

 

A soft gray morning

bird-solitude-sky-alone

Such a tightly packed weekend …
I shall never be able to sort it all out today.
But there are things I must capture here this morning …
a soft gray morning, well-suited to a quiet think.

~ May Sarton, The House by the Sea: A Journal


Notes:

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

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Source: Charlie Brown & Sleepy Snoopy via Mennyfox55

The word will get around

blue-jay-bird-feeder

I went out before breakfast
to fill the bird feeder.
So far only jays come,
but the word will get around.

~ May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude


Notes:

  • Photograph of female bluejay at bird feeder by Cyanocitta
  • Dec 23, 2015 forecast – a high of 54° F. Tomorrow’s forecast: high of 66° F

 

Miracle? All of it. 

birds-sun-light

Whirring notes of a varied thrush soak in through the walls of sleep.  Gradually ascending toward consciousness, I struggle to remember where we are, then realize what shore these songs ring out across. As the sky pales toward sunrise, I awaken to a world of dreams.

More varied thrushes join the first, until the woods and thickets chime like a chorus of bells. Other birds blend into the medley: fox sparrow, robin, hermit thrush, winter wren, ruby-crowned kinglet, Townsend’s warbler. Their sounds are trapped and magnified in the forest, made rich and deep in the saturated air – ribbons and lacework of song, shadows and flickers of song, splinters and shards of song, and the whispered secrets of unfamiliar song.

The cove fills up with bird voices, until even the noise of surf fades to irrelevance. And what of the songs beyond this patch of shore? If we hiked down the beach or back through the woods, we would hear the same chorus, repeated endlessly, permeating the air with sweet, mingled phrases. I wonder how many thousands of birds are singing at this moment on the island alone? How many millions along the north Pacific shore? And how many billions in the curved shadow of dawn that lies along the continent’s western flank? Throughout this vast expanse the land breathes with song and pours an anthem of morning into the sky. In the flow of a summer sunrise, the living continent sings.

~ Richard Nelson,  The Island Within


Inspired by Albert Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”


Notes:

Saturday Morning. Tasting it fully.

nap-sleep-rest-red-hair

Without the interruptions,
nourishing and maddening,
this life would become arid.
Yet I taste it fully only
when I am alone here and
“the house and I resume old conversations.”

~ May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude: The Journals of Mary Sarton


Source: Photograph – exercice de style

 

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

fireflies-japan-yellow-light

Like when you squeeze lemon into black tea
and the black tea starts brightening all over.
Her fatigue was gradually brightening.
Without any fatigue whatsoever, incidentally.
The way a firefly lights up.
Since she was no longer tired,
she’d get up and get dressed.
It was time to start.

~ Clarice Lispector, “The Imitation of the Rose.” The Complete Stories


Photo: Fireflies by m hamajima via Mostly Japan

 

1891 + 124 years = Same.

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The morning cup of coffee
has an exhilaration about it
which the cheering influence
of the afternoon or evening cup of tea
cannot be expected to reproduce.

~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., “Over the Teacups,” 1891


Source: Image – Malinthe Samarakoon with Caffeine (via Sensual Starfish). Quote: Schonwieder

 

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