Comparison and Contrast

The difference . . . is huge:  Arizona versus Maine, humming birds to blue jays, sun to snow.  From one week to the next, there is no comparison, only contrast:

Not So Bleak Midwinter

One of my favorite Christmas carols is In the Bleak Midwinter with Christina Rosetti's poignant verses penned in 1872 at the request of Scribner's Monthly magazine for a Christmas poem:

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty,

Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim

Worship night and day,

A breastful of milk

And a mangerful of hay;

Enough for Him, whom angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

Which adore.

Angels and archangels

May have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim

Thronged the air,

But only His mother

In her maiden bliss,

Worshipped the Beloved

With a kiss.

What can I give Him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb,

If I were a wise man

I would do my part,

Yet what I can I give Him,

Give my heart.

I love especially the last line--because while that is the simplest and most obvious answer, it is the most complex of all gifts:  the thing that sets us apart from every other living thing, the depth and breadth of our very being, our core, the very reason for our existence.  It's the hardest thing to give as well.  And yet once given, it's plain that there really is no other response possible.

Today's nor'easter is reminding me of this carol.  It is definitely bleak outside for anyone and anything subjected to the pommelling going on out there.  The birds have been buffeted for hours in their flying, feeding, and huddling attempts.  I've been trying to capture them with my camera.  Some are plucky and persevering--the chickadees, juncos, jays, and goldfinches.  The doves, though, seem to be having a hard time, withdrawing into themselves, only surfacing every once in awhile to shake off the snow and then hunker down again.

On the other hand, for this New Englander who only sees snow at Christmas time now--if she's lucky--the snow and wind are anything but bleak.  The stark white of the snow against the rich green of the pines, red of the cardinals, the blue of the blue jays, the black of the juncos, the golds of the goldfinches, the checks of the Harry and Downy woodpeckers, the soft browns of the doves, the grays of the chickadees, nuthatches, and titmice--this kaleidoscope of color, this constantly shifting array of feathered friends--is not only not so bleak, it is beautiful.

Full Snow Moon · 365 Project

Full Snow Moon by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

February's Full Moon is called the "Snow Moon" or "Hunger Moon." Native American tribes from the north and east. Clearly not from the desert southwest!

I'm thinking tonight of the famous "Blizzard of '78" that occurred in Massachusetts on this date 34 years ago. I remember when it was first starting to snow that afternoon. I was skipping across campus with my boyfriend (literally) when we noticed we were in a kind of snowy fog. By the time I got home later that afternoon, we knew this was not going to be the usual snowstorm. Hours later it was still snowing. The snow piled up so high that my sisters and I jumped out our second story bedroom window the next day, just because we could without fear of injury! Our collie dog got lost in the snow when we let him out. He actually disappeared from sight!

Schools were closed for days. My college closed for the first and only time in its entire history. So did Harvard University. When it was finally clear and safe to drive again, we found ourselves driving along streets piled so high with snow that you could not see over the walls of snow. Snow mobile owners were kept busy delivering doctors and other essential personnel to hospitals all over the Boston area. It was crazy. Exciting. Fun. Memorable. A once-in-a-lifetime snowstorm I'm thinking...

Dust of Snow · 365 Project

Snow! by Rondi Aastrup · 365 Project

My mother sent me pictures of the snow that blanketed her house and yard this morning. Made me homesick for winter! I haven't seen snow since last Christmas (there was no snow when I was there this time), and I have to admit to missing it. Not driving in it, but certainly watching it fall and pile up on the trees.

Here's one of my favorite poems about snow:

Dust of Snow

Roberto Frost (1923)

The way a crow

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day I had rued.

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?!

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.

A Beautiful Noise

Even though it's not here officially for another two weeks, Spring rather loudly proclaimed its imminent arrival today in two distinct ways.  When I arrived at school this morning my ears were literally assaulted with a cacophony of bird song coming from the woodsy marsh on the far edge of the property.  It was, indeed a beautiful noise.  I've been hearing birds there for the past few weeks, but not the roar it was this morning.  A sure sign of spring =)

My little window bird feeder has continued to see constant activity from a dozen or so birds: the shy cardinal pair, the sparrows (still can't tell what kind for certain), and the several titmice.  They are the boldest and most comfortable.  There are two, in fact, who stop to sing to me before taking their seeds each time.  I still can't get great pictures, but they do put a bright spot in my day each time they come to eat, especially when they sing to me.  Another beautiful noise =)

When I left school this afternoon, the snow had melted enough to reveal . . . the daffodils have pierced the frozen ground and are on their way to blooming!  I was so excited!  Another sure sign of spring!  And while there was no noise involved there on the part of the daffodils, I certainly was making a joyful noise at seeing them =)

In Like a Lion

March sure came in like a lion this weekend!  But typical of New England, it was also on a roller coaster ride, taking us with it.  Friday, we had 60 degree, balmy weather.  All I needed outside was a light jacket.  Saturday was MOTS ("more of the same," in the words of Boston's award-winning legendary meteorologist who just retired on Thursday after 30+ forecasting the weather here).  In fact, it was feeling so much like spring that I indulged and bought 3 bunches of daffodills to brighten up my living room.

All well and good until sometime last evening.  It started with an e-mail from a parent asking if we would have school today.  I looked out the window.  Nothing.  I went on-line to check the weather and saw that Boston Public schools were already cancelled.  Within a couple of ours, our local superintendent had called to tell me we wouldn't have school today either.  So I sent out a flurry of e-mails and Facebook messages (actually, just put it in my status!) and made several phone calls to let everyone know they had the day off.

Then I settled in to see what would happen.  I can't tell you how many times school has been called off when it shouldn't have been, or it wasn't called off and should have been.  You never know when you do things ahead of time.  But when I looked out my window this morning (after sleeping in), I saw that we'd made the right call this time.

After shoveling out, I went to see if I could find some wildlife and ended up at my favorite nearby lake.  I thought I might see some ducks and geese, but there were only sea gulls huddled on the still ice-covered lake.  I'm not sure why the unprotected wind-swept lake is a better place to sleep than the warmer, less windy shore.  Perhaps it's safer is all.

Once again, I was intrigued by the silhouette of the dark leafless trees against the white of the frozen, snow-covered lake.  Contrast, patterns, and texture are interesting to me...

Winter Wonderland

I spent much of this day getting ready for school this week. We have 4 days of special "programming" celebrating MLK, the Inauguration, and African American Heritage. We're doing a couple of field trips and some creative activities, so it's taking some extra planning to make sure everything runs smoothly.

I did take some time to check out the snowy scenes outside, though. And I chronicled the progress of my two Amaryllis as well. Two days ago I had two blooms and six buds. Tonight, I have 8 full blooms =)

Happy Hanukkuh, #400, and SNOW!

I failed to notice when I posted on Friday that it was my 400th entry in this blog! It kind of crept up on me when I wasn't looking, I guess. It's kind of amazing to me that I've accumulating that many entries, as I wasn't always that regular in posting. Others I know are much more prolific. I respect their ability to share on a daily basis. My goal is to write more in the coming year. It's good for me, if nothing else.

This weekend our church celebrated Christmas and Hanukkuh in the same service. I thought it was a profoundly beautiful service that not too many people enjoyed, thanks to heaps of snow pouring down from the sky. We had wonderful music (that included my sister, her husband, and two children, all cellists) throughout the service.

Then a Russian scholar of Judaism talked about the origin of Hanukkuh and connected it to the Messiah and Salvation. It was fascinating. He brought with him a handwritten scroll of the Torah that took nearly two years to write. It was very old (don't remember how old) and fragile, but we were allowed to see it up close.

It had started to snow Friday afternoon and didn't stop much over night until early morning. Then it started again in the afternoon and kept on snowing all night and all day. It's still snow, in fact. Many things were canceled becasue of the snow, but not the Patriots' game. If you watched it, you saw how crazy it was out there. I went to a game once, years ago, in the snow. We had sleeping bags and heavy blankets to keep us warm, but there were some who didn't have as much protection. And still they stayed. My eyes watered so much, and then the tears froze on my face and my feet were blocks of ice, in spite of the covering we had. But did we leave? Of course not! That's a New Englander for you =)

All the same, school is already canceled for tomorrow. That's because it has now turned to ice on top of all the snow and is very dangerous. Tough, yes. Wreckless, we're not.

Do You See What I See?!!!

I was leaving school this evening, just before dark. It had been in the 40s most of the day (it's 46 right now), so the snow had been melting all day long, although I did see some snow flurries at one point. Anyway...I was going down the front steps and looked to my left and saw...(drum roll, please)...the yellowed tips of DAFFODILS!!!

I'm so excited! The snow melted down to the ground just outside the door, enough to give breathing room to the bulbs that had been growing all this time under dead leaves and cold snow. Suddenly the snow melts, and there they are. Such a beautiful miracle!

Lost in the snow

Well, almost. My parents have had so much snow at their place in southern Maine that their house has all but disappeared from certain angles. Their neighbor sent them a picture (left) and the following note today: "From our viewoint you have almost disappeared behind the snowbanks. Let us hope Spring is coming soon."

My mom sent her own pictures to me yesterday after yet another snow storm. The first is the neighbor's house from my parents', next is the front walkway completely buried, and the last is the back patio with the bird feeders quite a bit shorter than usual and the heated bird feeder to keep ice from forming.

God, Who stretched the Spangled Heavens

I learned a new hymn today. During the praise time at church the song leader shared a beautiful hymn with us. It's actually in our hymnal, but I don't ever remember singing it before. Sharon thought it was particularly appropriate for this week, considering the eclipse, the meteor, and the satellite...

God, who stretched the spangled heavens
Infinite in time and place,
Flung the suns in burning radiance
Through the silent fields of space:
We, Your children in Your likeness,
Share inventive powers with You;
Great Creator, still creating,
Show us what we yet may do.

We have ventured worlds undreamed of
Since the childhood of our race;
Known the exstacy of winging
Through untraveled realms of space,
Probed the secrets of the atom,
Yielding unimagined power,
Facing us with life's destruction
Or our most triumphant hour.

As each far horizon beckons,
May it challenge us anew:
Children of creative purpose,
Serving others, honoring You.
May our dreams prove rich with promise;
Each endeavor well begun;
Great Creator, give us guidance
Till our goals and Yours are one.

~Catherine Cameron (1927- )

Photos are from my walk around this afternoon. Not exactly spangled heavens, but the result of yesterday's heavenly sprinkling...

Collective Experience

I've spent the past three days working on a Curriculum Committee made up of teachers from all over New England, New York, and Bermuda. Ordinarily, my first thoughts of curriculum aren't all that exciting. But always, on second thought, and considering my years of experience on curriculum committees, I am fully excited about the possibilities. Usually, I'm not disappointed. And I certainly wasn't this week.


This is my second year on this particular committee. The big committee was broken into smaller groups. Mine focused on writing. There were five of us: a superintendent from New York, two elementary teachers--one from New York, one from Bermuda--and two secondary teachers--one from Maine and one (me) from Massachusetts. Our assignment was come up with ways to integrate spirituality into our teaching of writing (we all teach in Christian schools).

After some brain- storming, we divided ourselves into two smaller groups, by grade level. Coincidentally, the two elementary teachers were the younger ones of our group, The two of us secondary teachers, while we do not look our ages (ha!) had 65 collective years of teaching between us. That was a shocking thing to discover, but it made our job easier. We were able to put together five sample lesson plans to one full and two mini-lessons on the part of the other two.

Some might chalk it up to elementary being more complicated than secondary, but I prefer to call it practice... experience...that has to count for something =)

Photos: the road home...soggy and misty after dousing rains all morning.