Cardinal Rule

The cardinals are back (they go away for a few months and then return), but there are so many little birds that come to my feeder that they are very hesitant to come feed themselves.

Today, the male sat up in a tree and watched the feeding frenzy below. When the smaller birds finally left, he came down to eat. The female came along, too, but she's very camera shy...

In Her Steps

Friday afternoon, just before I left school, I went out to fill up the bird feeders. I had last filled them on Wednesday morning and had to step in the new-fallen snow in my dress shoes (my to the dismay of my freezing toes!)... When I went out on Friday, I found that little birds had tried to walk in my footsteps. Kind of cool, don't you think?!

God-Shaped Hole

I redis- covered these lyrics today, inspired by the worship talk our chaplain gave to the high school students this morning. He was talking about our need as humans to fill a void in our lives and I was reminded of this song a student shared with me several years ago. When I Googled it, I not only found the words (by Plumb) but also the actual music. I must admit, I didn't like the music, but I love the words:

Every point of view has another angle

And every angle has its merit.

But it all comes down to faith

That’s the way I see it.

You can say that love is not divine and

You can say that life is not eternal.

"All we have is now."

But I don't believe it.

There's a God-shaped hole in all of us

And the restless soul is searching.

There's a God-shaped hole in all of us

And it's a void only He can fill.

Does the world seem gray with empty longing,

Wearing every shade of cynical?

And do you ever feel that

There is something missing?

There's a God-shaped hole in all of us

And the restless soul is searching.

There's a God-shaped hole in all of us

And it's a void only He can fill.

That's my point of view...

Day's Work Done

Well, it was a good day, considering. Considering I had to get up at the time I first woke up instead of rolling over and going back to sleep for another hour or so the way I have for the past 12 days ;) Still, it was a good day. It went quickly, and smoothly, and I got home at a reasonable hour. Gotta love that!

And, I got this wonderful poem in an on-line newsletter. I've never seen it before, but thought it was a lovely way to look at life, being grateful for the ordinary blessings of life.

Te Deum: for a New Year
by Charles Reznikoff

Not because of victories
I sing,
having none,
but for the common sunshine,
the breeze,
the largess of the spring.

Not for victory
but for the day's work done
as well as I was able;
not for a seat upon the dais
but at the common table.

Old Time and New Beginnings

Interesting twist on yesterday's post: I found a different version of the hymn in my church hymnal. It adds a stanza and makes the first stanza a question instead of a statement. Makes for an entirely different reading, too, don't you think? And, ironically, in the midst of my "new beginning" ponderings, I attended a wedding this evening between two late septuagenarians (mother of two friends). They've only known each other a month, barely, but figured they needed to "gather their rosebuds while they may, Old Time is still a-flyin'." It was a lovely, funny wedding, full of music and laughter. I wish them all the best.

1
Is this a day of new beginnings,
Time to remember and move on,
Time too believe what love is bringing,
Laying to rest the pain that’s gone?

2
How can the seasons of a planet
Mindlessly spinning round its sun
With just a human name and number
Say that some new thing has begun?

3
Yet through the life and death of Jesus
Love’s mighty Spirit, now as then,
Can make for us a world of difference
As faith and hope are born again.

4
Then let us, with the Spirit’s daring,
Step from the past and leave behind
Its disappointment, guilt, and grieving,
Seeking new paths, and sure to find.

5
Christ is alive, and goes before us
To show and share what love can do.
This is a day of new beginnings;
Our God is making all things new.

New Beginnings

One of my friends unwittingly sent me on a treasure hunt tonight with his Facebook status. I knew it was a line from either a poem or a hymn, as that's what he typically posts on Friday nights. Usually I know where they come from, but tonight I couldn't place it. Longfellow, I thought. Or Tennyson.

When I Googled the phrase, the first hit sent me to an archived Easter sermon from Boston University's Marsh Chapel. Powerful. I'm glad I found and read it. But it did not credit the lines. So I went back to Google and clicked on the next entry. This time, I got sent to another Easter sermon site. And again, the lines were not credited. Still, the message was strong, and I'm the better for having read it.

Going back yet again to Google, I finally found a site that gave all the lyrics to Brian Wren's new (1978) hymn where I was able to see the lines (third verse) in their context. I can see why they would work for Easter time, but I like them for tonight, for the New Year, for starting anew yet one more time. The most wonderful thing to me is in the last line where it says "our God is making all things new." The truth is, each day is a new opportunity to start afresh with God. He is steady, He is constant. He is always there for us. But each new day, each new year, each new decade is our chance to start anew as well.

So, "Then let us, with the Spirit's daring, step from the past, . . . seeking new beginnings . . . . Happy New Year!

This Is A Day Of New Beginnings

This is a day of new beginnings,
time to remember and move on,
time to believe what love is bringing,
laying to rest the pain that’s gone.

For by the life and death of Jesus,
love’s mighty Spirit, now as then,
can make for us a world of difference,
as faith and hope are born again.

Then let us, with the Spirit’s daring,
step from the past and leave behind
our disappointment, guilt, and grieving,
seeking new paths, and sure to find.

Christ is alive, and goes before us
to show and share what love can do.
This is a day of new beginnings;
our God is making all things new.

-Brian Wren, 1978

A Decade of Great Destinations

This morning I took a whirlwind tour of the places I've traveled over the past 10 years, from January 1999 to December 2009. The statistics were interesting (to me, at least): 43 major trips, not counting numerous visits to my parents' in Maine or the many weekends spent at "the cabin" in Maine. These were all trips that required packing a suitcase and ranged from 2 nights to three weeks in length. Most also required flying for at least part of the trip, but trains, boats, buses, cars, and even my own two feet were involved as well.

Nearly 1/3 (16) were connected in some way to my work; 14 were with family; 10 were with, or on te way to being with, friends; and 4 were entirely by myself and for myself. Most of my US trips took place within New England (14 out of 31), 7 were to New York (5 of those to New York City), 4 to Maryland, 3 to Tennessee, and 10 to other states. Connecticut was the only New England state I didn't do more than drive through on my way to New York.

Six were out-of-country trips giving me entry into 6 new-to-me countries and one old friend that I visited twice (France).

I'd be hard-pressed to pick a favorite trip, but I do have some stand-out moments (in no particular order):

• Flying over New York City less than a month after September 11 and seeing the gaping hole in the skyline for the first time.
• Spending Bastille Day in Aix-en-Provence, France
• Traversing southern Norway with my family for two weeks
• Worshipping in a straw church on one of the floating islands on Lake Titicaca, Peru
• Exploring Greece, Ephesus, and Istanbul New England Youth Ensemble style (the day in Istanbul with my sister Lauren and 11 15-20 year olds was nothing less than amazing)
• Enjoying a fantastic day at Celia Thaxter's Garden off the coast of Portsmouth, NH with my mother and two sisters
• Going "back in time" into the jungle in Mexico
• Learning with strangers-become-friends at four writing workshop/retreats
• Relaxing on a ship (the largest cruise ship in the world) for a week
• Wandering Paris for 5 days (and being able to get where and what I needed with no trouble!)

If the next ten years bring me this much travel or more, I won't complain (as long as the airlines don't go crazy with all the new safety regulations!).

Resolved (more or less)

I'm counting down the hours to the new year and new decade with a few top ten lists. In the process, I'm also writing my 500th blog entry. When I started this blog in 2006, I had no idea where I'd go with it. I didn't even want to go public at first. As the days and months passed, though, I got hooked...on blogging, reading blogs, "meeting" wonderful blogger friends, and traveling vicariously through their words and pictures. I've reconnected with high school classmates through their blogs, made new friends all over the world, learned a lot, laughed and cried a lot, and have been inspired over and over.

One of my New Year's resolutions (one that's on my list annually) is to write more. Last January, I wrote on the blog every day and then let "life" take over. This year I'm determined to do more than less of everything on my list. I keep it short, because it's easier to focus on a few things. Still, it's not easy, no matter how determined I am in the days leading up to the launch day of "The List." Doesn't keep me from trying once again, though =)

So: Resolved to write more, watch TV less; exercise more, eat less; pray more, procrastinate less. There it is, more or less. ;)

Village Treats

My dad has been wanting to take me to his favorite antiquarian book store for a few years, now and Sunday, we finally made it. I have to say it was worth the trip. Surprisingly, it's located in the little Maine village my parents live in, and we've gone by it any number of times but have never stopped in (they have, of course). When you walk in, the smell, that wonderful musty smell of old books, all but overwhelms you. There's a shop cat, who was hiding, and oversized arm chairs in corners for the browsing that inevitably goes on.

As is the case with any book store for me, there were scores of books I wanted to get. I walked around with several while looking at the offerings on other shelves. Some I kept, some I ended up putting back. One, I held on to, even though it was $25 and I didn't really want to spend that much on a single book. There was a whole set of Jane Austen's books reduced from $450 to $200 because the bindings weren't so great. And he had two others for $70 apiece, but I couldn't bring myself to get them either, just so I could say I had some "old Jane Austen" books.

When we finally made our way to the cash register, I went to pay for my books first. My dad was insistent, though, that he pay for them. We went back and forth, me not wanting him to buy the $25 book for me, but he was firm, so I finally relented. The guy (owner) stacked our books up and said "How about $40?" We three gulped, for there was more than $40's worth of books there. My dad said "I can't cheat you like that." But now the guy was insistent. So, we walked out of there feeling very good about our purchase!

Next stop was my favorite primitive/folk craft shop, The Blue Door, also in the village of Alfred, ME. This time, the tables were turned on my dad, as he had never been here, whereas my mom and I go fairly often when I'm visiting. The owner makes quite a bit of her inventory, which is impressive all by itself. But you can also find genuine articles as well, making it an interesting visit, whether you purchase anything or not. That day, I bought belated Christmas presents for friends =)

I love little independent shops like this. There is one in Bolton, MA (where our family lived for more than 30 years before my parents moved to ME) nicknamed "The Salt Box" because it is a saltbox building. I used to say I could never see everything in it, no matter if I were to go in it every single day of the week. It was so crammed full of crafty and antiquey delights. These days, it's a little less crowded on the shelves, perhaps indicative of the economy. Still, a lot of fun to window shop in, if nothing else.

Midnight Clear

Tuesday, for my last American Literature class of 2009,

I told the students the story of one of the oldest

American Christmas carols, It Came Upon a Midnight

Clear. Edmund Sears, the lyrics-writer, was

Unitarian minister living in a small town in south-

western Massachusetts at the time. America was gearing

up for the Civil War, so there was a great deal of unrest in

the country, and in his congregation. Unlike most Unitarians,

Sears was a staunch believer in the divinity of Christ and wrote

this carol as an encouragement to his congregation. It was

published in 1849 and was immediately popular. You can see

why, when you look at the third verse in particular. We don't

generally sing that verse, but I think it's quite appropriate for us

today. (The pictures are Christmas scenarios tucked in the nooks

and crannies of my parents' home.)

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
to touch their harps of gold;
"Peace on the earth, good will to men
From heaven's all gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world.
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever over its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the Angel-strains have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man at war with man hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O! hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the Angels sing.

O ye, beneath life's crushing load
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Look now! for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing;
O rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.

For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold,
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendours fling,
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.

All is Calm

It's snowing! We're in the middle of a Winter Storm, New England style. I woke to unusual stillness outside. I live near a major highway and can usually hear its noise, however muffled. This morning, nothing. The snow has been falling since last night and it continues to fall, although we may be seeing the beginning of the end. (The photo here shows the depth of the snow on my bathroom window sill. You can see the snow is almost up to the edge of the window hanging.) Visibility in some places is 100 yards or less, although it's not that bad here. Looks like we'll get about a foot all told. Farther south of us (Boston), they are describing it as a "blizzard." There are many, many school children waking up this morning wishing it were Monday and not Sunday! Bad as it is today I'm sure things will be cleared up for school tomorrow.

Yesterday, we had a wonderful Lessons and Carols service at our church. Three families plus three others provided the music, the congregation served as the choir, and three readers shared the Old and New Testament lessons. It was a beautiful service. My sister, her husband, and two children were four of the dozen musicians.

Seven of the group have been playing together since they were kids (in the New England Youth Ensemble, a group I played with as well). One piece they played brought back memories that are 35 years old when the group played each year for the Christmas Eve service in a small Episcopal Church. I still remember the air pungent with incense and balsam fir, the candle-lit sanctuary, the slow procession of the priests bringing the Baby Jesus to the manger as the Ensemble accompanied Jerry (now my brother-in-law) as he played the sweet and lovely Jesu Bambino. That's one of my most sensory memory of Christmas and always brings me a sense of peace and calm.

Electric!

It's amazing how much noise electricity makes. Or, rather, the mechanisms powered by electricity. I was up early this morning, writing my Christmas letter to the sounds of Christmas. All of a sudden, a loud bang from somewhere outside and the power went out, just like that! And then quiet. Deafening quiet. I started thinking about all the things I couldn't do now. Couldn't make a tasty breakfast, couldn't blow dry my hair, couldn't listen to music any more, couldn't do laundry, couldn't vacuum, couldn't print my letter once I finished it. At least temporarily.

I felt so handicapped at first! I did have my laptop, and I did finish my letter, but then had to put the laptop away because I didn't want to drain down the battery too much. In the quiet that ensued for the next two plus hours, I heard more, and thought more than I'd done in some time. Called to mind what I heard a famous singer once say about taking time away from everyone and everything for some quiet time. "How can you hear God in all the noise?" he asked. How, indeed. This morning's hours without electricity were, for me, quite electric after all!

A Few Saving Graces

"I can understand people simply fleeing the mountainous effort Christmas has become... but there are always a few saving graces and finally they make up for all the bother and distress." ~May Sarton

Finally, I am beginning to feel the Christ- mas Spirit rising in me. We had our first real snow fall last night and this morning, I woke to a beautiful vision of sun shining through snow-stacked branches outside all of my windows. It has been so down-right balmy throughout November. We had not one flake of snow the entire month and only about 5 minutes of snow back in October. So it's been a stretch to feel Christmasy at all.

Not only did the snow make me feel seasonal, but we got a huge Christmas present today in a

decision that was made at our church business meeting this morning. Our school has been growing steadily for the past two years, and this year we grew by a lot. We'd prayed the prayer of Jabez, essentially asking God to expand our enrollment. It wasn't exactly a surprise when He answered that prayer, but it has been a challenge. Today, our church came to our rescue, voting to devise a plan, basically saying whatever it takes.

I'm beyond excited about this devel- opment. And not a little scared. It's a big project, and there are a lot of complications. But knowing that the church is behind us, and that God is clearly blessing us has helped me realize the miracle of this Christmas season.

We Thank Thee, Oh Lord

For balmy sunshine

For nourishing rain

Dear Lord and our Father

We thank Thee

For food and Thy care

Rich blessings we share

Dear Lord and our Father

We thank Thee

We thank Thee oh Lord

Those are the lyrics to a prayer-song we used to sing when my sisters and I were young. Last weekend, we celebrated Thanksgiving in Maine with our parents. My mother wanted to sing that prayer, but it's been a long, long time since we've sung it, and the young ones didn't know it at all, so it didn't go as smoothly as it used to. I've thought of the words since then, though. Simple words, but they encompass nearly all that I need and am thankful for. If I were to ad a verse, I'd add something about family and friends, a thriving school, and a caring church community. That would pretty much sum it all up then.

My middle sister and I planned the Thanksgiving Church Service for our church. It was something like one long responsive reading with a dozen readers, congregational responses, eight congregational hymns (we sang selected verses from most of them, complimenting the readings), three instrumental meditations (one of which was my niece playing "We Gather Together"), and a vocal solo--all intertwined and interspersed. Right before the final hymn (Now Thank We all Our God), the congregation had opportunity to share their praises and thanksgivings. Everyone seemed to love it, saying it was such a lovely way to acknowledge all the blessings God has given us And there are many.

Thanksgiving day itself, our immediate and

extended family gathered at that same sister's house for the afternoon. We had a couple dozen or more people there all told, and of course quite a bit of excellent food. After the meal and pies, we were treated to some music, as tends to be the tradition at these gatherings (there are many musicians in the family). This time, my sister's family cello quartet played her arrangement of "It is Well with my Soul" and then her sister-in-law's arrangement of the "Navy Hymn" (three there had been in the Navy and one is currently in the Army Reserves). I always enjoy this part of our time together.

Now, the next few weeks will be packed (for me) with meetings and hard work. One bright light between now and Christmas break will be a very quick trip down to TN for my niece's graduation from college. Time's going by much too quickly! Just yesterday we were excited about her birth...I thankful for it all, though. No matter how quickly it goes...

A Literary Afternoon

I treated myself to a lecture today. No, not the scolding kind. Not the boring fall-asleep-in-your-seat kind. The fascinating kind. The thought-provoking kind. The kind I haven't been subject to for a number of years, since the last time I took a literature class. Lately the only kind of classes and seminars I've been taking have to do with administra- tion and are, on the whole, not all that exciting. There have been the occasional leadership workshops or writing seminars which have fed my creative or spiritual side, but not very often, and not often enough.

Wednesday, when the clerk at the Concord Bookstore told me about the Jane Austen So

ciety meeting today, I gave it brief consideration. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to go, so this afternoon found me driving through Boston and then Brookline looking for Wheelock College where the meeting was to be held. I got there a little early and was walk around the campus taking pictures of nooks and crannies (and trees) that caught my fancy.

When I walked into the meeting room, I was greeted by my friend from the bookstore. She was so pleased I had come. I was pleased she remembered me. She introduced me to several of the ladies, all of whom were delightful and friendly. The afternoon's topic was "Austen, Scott, Bronte...and Zombies" and was an interesting comparison of three sets of books: Emma/Ivanhoe, Persuasion/Wuthering Heights, and Pride & Prejudice/Pride & Prejudice & Zombies. The presenter teaches at Boston College and I found myself wishing I was back in school taking a class from her.

After the "lecture," there was time for Q and A. I was impressed that the lone man in the crowd dared to ask a question...and it was evident he had actually read Austen! There was a little reception afterwards. Again, I was impressed with the friendliness of the group. I'm already looking forward to the next meeting...next month when we celebrate Jane's birthday =)

The Gift Outright

The Gift Outright
Robert Frost
The land was ours before we were the land's.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England's, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
Such as we were we gave ourselves outright
(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)
To the land vaguely realizing westward,
But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,
Such as she was, such as she would become.

I visited Lexington and Concord today, a Veterans' Day tradition I've been keeping for most of the past two decades. I often start my Christmas shopping in these two lovely colonial towns, but I mostly go there to remember...remember my way-back heritage (my mother is a Daughter of the American Revolution), remember what "they did here" that we might freely live here in this country we love that embraces democracy so fiercely and proudly.

I walked around the Lexington Green listening to a Veteran of much later wars play tribute (bottom right hand corner of the picture) on his trumpet ("Taps," "Star Spangled Banner," "The Navy Hymn," and other appropriate pieces). A moving experience, walking through the November winds with the haunting melodies floating over the fallen leaves.

I stopped by the homes of inspiring American writers (Emerson, Hawthorne, Thoreau, Alcott), by the rude bridge that arched the flood, by the homes of those who gave their lives that others might live.

I ate lunch at my favorite Market Cafe in Concord and went to my favorite local book store, The Concord Bookstore. There, I gave in to temptation and bought yet another Jane Austen-related book, A Truth Universally Acknowledged: 33 Great Writers on Why we Read Jane Austen. The clerk asked me if I belonged to the Jane Austen Society. When I answered "not officially," she told me about a MA chapter of the Society that was meeting this coming Sunday and said I ought to go, that I would love it. She is a member herself and said she'd look for me there! Dare I say I am going?!

In all, it was five hours of refreshment, both physically and spiritually. In all, it was exactly what I needed this day. A Gift Outright...

Autumn

"The leaves are falling, falling as from way off,
as though far gardens withered in the skies;
they are falling with denying gestures.
And in the nights the heavy earth is falling
from all the stars down into loneliness.
We all are falling. This hand falls.
And look at others: it is in them all.
And yet there is one who holds this falling
endlessly gently in his hands."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Autumn