Honeysuckle

 I smelt it yesterday in a viney hedge.

Today I see its blooms, white and yellow.

It pulls me into childhood, into memory.

So I pick a yellow one, squeeze its tip,

And pull gently, waiting for the drip.

Ah, honey dew! One perfect nectar!

When I was five, my brother

Whom I adored, showed me how

To harvest honeysuckle.

We spent a golden hour in the backyard

Sipping to our hearts' content.

I asked if we could fill a bucket

one drop at a time, and he said

technically, yes. Magic, I thought.

He lifted me on his shoulders and

I was taller than I'll ever be.

Neither of us learned the secret of the honeysuckle,

Neither gathered a bucket drop by drop.

I have lost that brother to the pain of life,

But today I tasted honey dew and remember him.

Bayboro, NC, 2024

copyright by the author

Williamsburg in Spring

The Governor's Palace Gardens

The John Whythe House

The Shoemaker's Shop

A view from the 2nd floor of the Capitol, looking down the Duke of Glouchester Street

The Weaver's and Spinner's Shop

Bruton Parish Church

 Twice, Adam and I have bought annual passes to Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. We may do it again in a few years because it's one of our favorite places to go. I never tire of touring a few of the homes or important buildings. Last time I spent lots of time in the museums. I always visit the weaver's shop and the herb gardens. This time I toured the Capitol (a favorite), the Whythe house, and the Raleigh Tavern. I tried to arrive in time for the Wednesday service at Bruton Parish Church, but missed it. We take Beau and Tricky with us, so Adam spends his time sitting outside (while I go inside), which suits him fine. He chats with people and talks about dogs. He enjoys going inside the Tailor's Shop, and we often visit the brickyard if they are putting together or taking apart their free-standing kiln. We stay overnight at Anvil Campground, which offers 3 small cabins for sleeping, for those without an R.V. It's less than 10 minutes' drive to Colonial Williamsburg.

The Joy of Resurrection!

 This year, more than ever before on Easter weekend, I felt the nervous anticipation, the heavy waiting, and the exuberance of the morning of resurrection. He is risen!

Adam made two large batches of hot cross buns this year, one for his students at school and one for our parishioners at church. 

We had lovely Easter lilies in the sanctuary, with the last of the daffodils and a bunch of Spanish bluebells from our yard.

Adam was quite busy during the Easter season this year: a program at school where he was a narrator, Easter sunrise service, and then our usual services at church, along with a song from our handchime choir (I direct; he plays). After church we took hot cross buns and lilies to two of our shut-ins. It was lovely to visit with them.

Sunrise services are too early for me. I joke that I'd love to attend them if they were later! But I took a picture of the sunrise from our front porch. Adam says the service by the riverfront in Oriental was very well attended. 

I'm still painting a little, not as much as I used to. The photo at the end is a little one I did recently that I do like.

May you, dear friend, continue to feel the wonderful inner glow of joy that comes from knowing that our best friend, rescuer, Lord and brother, Jesus Christ, overcame death Himself, and for us also. That means -- eternity! All the joys of heaven are ours. Amen.

Looking Down

My earliest memory is deep leaves

and my feet, kicking and walking,

holding someone's left hand.

Somehow I always knew it was

my grandparents' farm, although

there is nothing else, only

deep leaves, dry and crunching

leaves all around my feet,

I'm looking down because

that's what children do.

Then, it seems only moments later,

he is walking on my left,

my son's little son,

holding my hand as we walk

along a gravel road to the farm.

He kicks the rocks and studies them.

He grasps my fingers firmly.

I watch him and turn my face

up to the blue above.

The forsythia glows like sun.

Look at my shadow! he says.

It's so big!

He is looking down, because

that's what children do.

Copyright by the author

Renick WV, 2024

Fern

  

This year for Valentine's, Adam and I agreed to buy ourselves what we wanted instead of flowers or chocolate. He bought fabric. I bought a ceramic pot and a fern. It finally put up two little shoots.

I've been indulging in my love of wool -- cleaning, carding, spinning, plying, and knitting it. Currently on the needles is a brown sweater made from wool I bought last year at a nearby farm. 

The deep golden/orange yarn is dyed with lichen from our yard.

The daffodils are past now, and overnight it seemed all the Bradford pears in the county burst into bloom. They look so pretty in front of our church.