Acorns in Parking Lots

“I’ll be right back…” I called out as I began crossing the large parking lot to the motel office where they kept hot coffee all day long. In the early twilight, I could see splotches of some tannish-gray material spattered across the dark pavement. My first thought was that someone’s tires had collected and dropped globs of mud, but they seemed to be the wrong color. Then I noticed odd little chunks and on closer inspection could see what they really were – acorns. The oak trees that had been planted in the median strips had produced dozens, which now were ripe and dropping to the pavement. Many had been smashed by tires, but some were still whole, scattered about with their broken-off caps. Quickly grabbing that hot cup of coffee, I set it down on a curb and began gathering up the acorns and caps into the front of my shirt. Gingerly balancing the hot cup in one hand and my newly-acquired treasure in the other, I returned to our room, joyful. “Look what I found – free decorations!”

I have always loved to gather nature’s bounty, which is everywhere you look and often free for the taking. Brightly-colored autumn leaves of different shapes and sizes, various seed pods and grasses, lichen-covered twigs, evergreen cones, berries, and nuts are abundant this time of year.  As the weather cools and dampens, I bring them indoors to add some color and cheer to the darkening days. Once collected, however, we need to see how they fit together and how best to use or display them.

And, if we pay attention, those are not the only free treasures to be found, combined, and valued. I remember the year, shortly after both my parents passed away, that I had the opportunity to attend art school (at the age of 50, no less…) and use my part of a small inheritance to complete the studies debt-free. Another time, while attending a community class and subsequently volunteering to use that knowledge, I met some women who ultimately became some of my closest friends. Asking for help on a local internet community page has resulted in meeting some incredible people, whom I would now not hesitate to contact for access to their unique skills. Serving on a local community committee has helped me become acquainted with members of different service organizations, educational institutions, and a local juvenile justice department. The exchange of information and knowledge with each of these people has enriched my life immensely and helped me connect them with others who have needed their expertise.

Those acorns – and their matching caps – returned home with me. The caps have been glued on and they are prominently displayed, along with other nuts and seedpods, as a reminder of the yearly harvest.  I’d much rather enjoy these real things than plastic imported replicas. Some years, I gather a small amount of evergreen huckleberries from our yard. They are small and there is never enough to do much with, but when combined with apples from my neighbor’s yard, they make a wonderfully tasty pie.

Many of us are not as close to the land and its abundant resources as our ancestors were, but it’s good to remember that all these things are timeless gifts from God. The harvest is ready – reap what you can, share the bounty, and be forever grateful.

 

Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. ~ John 4:36
 

 

In the Blink of an Eye

It was odd that it caught my attention at all, but at the same time how could it not? It was so completely unexpected and foreign to my eyes that, even though it was nestled unobtrusively among the still-green leaves, it literally took my breath away.

About five inches long, it hung as a tightly-packed group of dark-colored, woody pods, each one containing a brilliant, shiny red, plump, bean-shaped seed suspended from the pod by a single, white strand. I'm not kidding about the color - identical to the red of M & Ms, I'd say! If this plant had produced this dramatic show of fall seeds before, I somehow had missed it.

The plant is a saucer magnolia tree, which we planted back in 1988 as a memorial to my mom whom we lost that year.

It is slow-growing - only about eight feet tall after twenty-seven years of growth - but faithfully produces huge pink blooms each spring.

Whether it was the unusually warm, dry summer, the tree reached some certain level of maturity, or other unknown factors, it lavishly produced five or six of these hanging seed clumps this year. Maybe I just happened to be working in its part of the yard at the right time. Whatever it was, because I think of it as "Mom's tree", it stirred up all kinds of memories of her.

It is often so easy to take those closest to us for granted. Precisely because they are so near and dear to us, they become a part of the fabric of our everyday lives, woven in so tightly and secure that we forget how precious they really are.

If we are fortunate, and fully aware, age and experience teaches us that life can change in the blink of an eye and we should NOT take anything for granted - least of all those we treasure. I have been reminded of this time after time, but more so recently...

·         My loving husband - best friend ever, stalwart partner, robust worker, now facing physical challenges.

·         My sister - living close by for the first time since I was two years old, facing failing eyesight, hearing, and the fragility of aging.

·         Our adult son - struggling with mental illness, substance abuse, and unemployment.

·         My youngest niece - dealing with health issues, unemployment, her Alzheimer's-affected dad, and a sister with mental illness.

·         Our dear friend - solid presence and confidante, widower with young-adult children, who recently escaped serious injury from a falling tree.

·         My "Coffee Klatch" ladies - each facing their own unique challenges with family members, health, disability, and aging.

·         My community volunteer friends - dealing with family issues of dementia, addiction, failed relationships, worries for grandchildren, spouses, and their own declining abilities.

·         All of YOU - whom I know, love, appreciate, and consider part of the greater family.

I am not alone in this; I only listed those above as a reminder that all of us carry burdens of concern for those we care for and love. Let us remember to be thankful now for those we hold dear - circumstances can change in an instant and tomorrow may never come.

I view the magnolia's brilliant red seeds and remember my mom's bright red lipstick, geraniums, and apple pie. I'm ever so thankful to have had her in my life...

I always thank my God

as I remember you in my prayers..

Philemon 1:4

Whatizzit? 2 Answer

Fireweed (Epilobium angustifolium) is a native plant that grows in many places in the U.S. It is found well up into the mountains and is a hardy pioneer species, readily sprouting and taking hold in disturbed areas, especially along highways, railroads, and old burns. It gets its name from the fact that it is often one of the first plants to grow in a burned-out area. The tall spikes of rose to purple flowers bloom June through September. Although this plant is a wild perennial, the flowers quickly wither away and are replaced by long, narrow seedpods.
 

 

In the fall the seedpods split lengthwise, releasing hundreds of small seeds, each tipped with fluffy, white tufts of hair. These seeds are readily dispersed by the wind and can travel a considerable distance; the seed hairs have been used as a stuffing material or as tinder.

 

 

A Gift of Place - and Time

Time passes -

And with it

Nothing remains the same

From moment to moment

Day to day

Season to season

Year to year

And so enjoy

This meager gift

However insignificant

Gleaned from the woods

Of this place and time

Nothing is meant

To Last forever

So when you tire of it

Return it to the woods

For it is only a small

And humble token

Plucked from one

Moment in time

In this special place

It cannot be kept

Just as it is

For these dry bits

- And you -

Have already changed

And are moving on

Ever re-cycling

To another time

Another place -

Memories of Rainier

August 2012

Winter's Rest

Every year I feel it and try to ignore it - at least for a while. For I let go of summer quite unwillingly and in a year like this, with a short summer season at best, I am foot-stomping reluctant to move into winter. To ignore it I may try, but the cooling, darkening, slowing pace of other life around me finally pulls me down to the rhythm of Fall-heading-toward-Winter.

I do know the signs: an unwillingness to rise early; an appetite for hearty, warm meals; less inclination to dig in cold, damp earth; spending evenings snuggled under quilts and nights sleeping under flannel and wool. Like a willful child, who loudly shouts that "I will NOT take my winter's rest!" I am led to a quiet place, where weariness is acknowledged and rest is finally accepted.

For many of us, summer can be a time of busyness. We eagerly dive into barbecues, gardening, vacations, camping, traveling and attending a variety of community events. There are yards to care for, special outings, children to transport here and there, and never-ending activities for everyone in the family. For many, these are added to an already full work schedule. Fall brings the return to school, regular work schedules, and a plethora of activities related to those. Is it any wonder we grow weary?

In the days when our ancestors grew and harvested their own crops and stored them for the winter ahead, fall was a time of gradually gearing down. There was still wood to be chopped and animals to care for, but many activities changed with the seasons. There's no doubt that winter was still a working time, but the pace slowed. Sewing, quilting, mending of clothing and equipment often took place by lamplight and with lengthening darkness the working hours became less. In many cultures and areas, this became a time for socializing, story-telling, and sharing meals, especially when the weather limited travel.

Birds, squirrels, and other animals have raised their young, so are less frenzied in their search for food. Various types of dens and nests are prepared and many creatures are ready for longer sleeps or hibernation. Some, like insects, have lived their lives and are now gone, leaving behind their eggs or pupae to carry on next year.

Deciduous trees and shrubs slowly change color and drop their leaves, putting their stored energy into slowly developing new buds for spring. Conifers and other evergreens slow their production of sugars and other nutrients and go into resting states. Many plants die off, depending on their underground root systems or scattered seeds to carry on next year. For all of them, their heavy work of the year is done and it is time for rest.

Perhaps there is a lesson here for us, also. "To rest" does not mean that our work is done. It does not mean that we have necessarily completed a task or abandoned it. It certainly does not mean that we are lazy, shiftless, or unmotivated. Rest is vital to a healthy existence - our bodies, minds, and souls require it to function well. We all need a break sometimes - whether an hour, a day, a week, or several months. For if God took time to rest, certainly we can.

There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God's rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest... 
Hebrews 4:9-11

Circus Admission: Sunflower Seeds

The race was on - you could hear the bark flying. Up, down, ‘round and ‘round the tree, across the grass lickety-split. Then up another tree, across the branches to another, down, up ‘round and ‘round. They scrambled along the ground, right under the rake, nearly knocking it over and right across the toes of my shoes - with me in them! Then up the tree again, with one finally settling into the swinging box feeder, one in the pole feeder, and one on a nearby branch trilling away. I laughed ‘til I doubled over and cried. Our backyard has become a 3 ring circus. Admission: sunflower seeds.

When we first moved here 30 years ago, we didn’t have many - at least not on our property. We would catch an occasional glimpse of one racing across the road as we drove. One large Doug fir on the corner of our pasture collected a big pile of cone scales near its base, so we knew at least 1 or 2 were busy there. But mostly, they remained a rare sight for us.

Things have changed over the years. To eliminate some of our grass, we planted ground covers and native shrubs; trees that were small now tower above us. More houses (and fewer trees) fill our neighborhood and we no longer have a dog. Thistle and sunflower seeds replaced wild bird seed mix .

They cause us no problems, so to speak. There is the thump, thump, thump as green fir cones come tumbling down and gnawed-off scales do pile up beneath certain trees. There is the chattering, trilling, squeaking and nattering that can be incessant, but I have learned to talk back to them - not that they pay me any mind. Near the end of one summer a few years ago one did get rather bold and was seen exploring our side porch frequently. I had a funny feeling about that one, which was confirmed when I discovered several holes chewed in the cushion on one chair. Reading up, I discovered they have young in June and October, so suspected nest-building. Fall brought the appearance of 3 lively young, so all was forgiven. Another year about the same time, the tablecloth on the picnic table was nibbled all along the edges, so I guess those nurseries must be carefully equipped also...

This could be called the “Year of the Squirrel” for it has certainly yielded a bumper crop. The 3 young Chickarees (or Douglas squirrels) that have graced “our” territory this summer have certainly kept us entertained. In early August, 3 more small ones appeared, and we wonder what part we have played in this increase.

We have stopped filling the most easily-accessible feeders for now. Bickering has increased, and it will be interesting to see who runs off who as territories are re-established. We’ve noticed the Sharp-Shinned Hawk cruises through more frequently.

One change always leads to another, and we sometimes forget that all life is indeed interconnected...

When goods increase, they increase who eat them; and what gain has their owner but to see them with his eyes?
Ecclesiastes 5:11

Expected Yield

Time is turning, inching slowly

from summer, warm and lazy,

toward autumn, crisp and bold.

Spring seeds planted,
lying dormant,
warmed within the fertile earth,
waited for gentle rain.

Sprouts took root,
grew quickly,
tender shoots turned thick and tall,
initial wonder turned to worry:

Growing too fast, too big,
Running out of room.
Underneath, the stems are weak,
Maybe they’ll never bloom.
Big enough, let’s prune it back,

Let’s just let it be.

Ever see one this shape?

Size doesn’t matter to me.

It seems to be a bumper crop,

needs body, heart and soul,

working team that pulls as one.

Row by row, we must move

from lingering daydreams and promises

toward shortening, crisping realities.

Time is turning, marching forward
from seedlings, feeble or strong,
toward harvest, brass or gold.

Be patient, then, brothers, until the Lord’s coming.

See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop
and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains.
You, too, be patient and stand firm,
because the Lord’s coming is near.
Don’t grumble against each other, brothers, or you will be judged.

The Judge is standing at the door!

James 5:7-9

(People seem to fret a lot about CHANGE -

some adjust well,

others do not. 

There usually is a lot of grumbling throughout the process. I wrote this one year as our church was going through a series of "growing pains"...)