Nature’s singers join the great orchestra at Tanglewood Music Festival

Audience members under the shed roof, and outside on the grass at the Tanglewood Music Festival in the Berkeshires of Massachussetts (Koussevitzsky Music Shed)

About five or so years ago, my husband and I had the joy of attending the concerts at the well-known Tanglewood Music Festival in the beautiful Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts.  Tanglewood is the famed summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and is an open-air shed, covered by a roof, but no walls on its sides. Continue reading

I like bird baths, too

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Taking advantage of any chance to do my birdy water dance.

I don’t have flappers like penguins to swim through the sea. I may not float on deep lakes like a duck, swan, or goose. I don’t dive deep into the water like a puffin or coot, but one thing is sure, I really like bird baths very much, too. Continue reading

About little treasures

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Quills from Lima’s wings

Little treasures can often be as significant as big ones, or even more so. A deceased mother’s wedding ring kept in the center of a jewelry box, and occasionally tried on. A prized tuft of your child’s baby hair kept in a memory book, and occasionally used to stroke your cheek.  Your favorite book signed by the author in ink, thanking you for understanding his/her words. These treasures may not be of huge monetary value, but they are priceless in your heart. Continue reading

Pluck me from this horrid place

key in door

Pluck me from this horrid place that I have lived in for so long. No, not from my literal home with you, my love, but from the jail of its inner rooms.

You know the jail itself is solely in my brain. Outside with you are miles of beauty. And yet you only ever look through my jail window at me, saturated by grey and black. Though I do see a glimpse of the outside beauty past your face, it seems surreal and distant. Your face looks sad and frustrated. I kiss it through the jail window, but we both want more. Continue reading

Mourning dove squabs fledged from the rose arbor nest

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Our rose arbor

Just outside my library window, I spy the June blooming of my pink roses. They climb and rest on a large arbor that stands in the front of my house.  Last year when the library window was open we sometimes heard the soft cooing of nesting mourning doves. The mother and father dove called each other to take over attending to their new squabs. The nest sat right atop the arbor hidden among the vines. Continue reading

To a young man that I will always love

dancing with birds

As a tot, you had a thick round crown of beautiful brown hair, with a smile that charmed, and eyes that set my mind at ease.

You were always a quiet little boy, but when our family lost your grandmother I saw deep sadness in those eyes. They spoke of deep regret and loss. I cried with you and we hugged each other tightly, with your head softly upon my breast. Continue reading

The reopening of the swim hole

You can’t imagine how excited my husband and I are that it is Memorial Day weekend! Of course this holiday is quite significant in its meaning, but it is also the first long weekend after almost three months. What’s more, it marks the reopening of our beloved quarry swim club. Later today we will create a picnic lunch and drive 15 mins to this most idyllic place; a fully spring fed lake created from a quarry hole dating back to 1928. Actually, when I think of it, the swim club represents a lot of sweet memories for us, and obviously for many other people in the area. Continue reading

Those notoriously naughty birdies

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Hiss!

It’s true that there are plenty of notorious people out there, but in my experience, the most notorious creatures I have encountered are birds. They are very intelligent creatures, and with that often comes a bit of naughtiness, sometimes extreme naughtiness. Don’t get me wrong, I love birds. Very much!

Here are a bunch of videos demonstrating some bird naughtiness. Most are short. Continue reading

My kluk (“guy” in Czech) and my nook

via Photo Challenge: Security

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I realize this is a photo challenge, but I could not resist responding to the word “security”, without a story attached.

When I was a young holka (Czech for “girl”) through perhaps 32 years old, I had very few fears. It didn’t phase me at six years old to walk two miles to school by myself. At 17, I didn’t mind walking four miles home. When I reached 21, I flew to Taiwan by myself and found a source of living. I went there again by myself at 23, then traveled throughout Asia. I wasn’t intimidated as a young woman. My parents weren’t scared, as many parents would be nowadays. That fact gave me confidence, as did my general fearlessness.

The first time I really started to experience major fear was when the worst of my mental illness struck. Continue reading