If Spring Had a Color...then yellow, it must be

It's the end of April, and Spring has come at last. Not the false spring of February, or the teasing spring of March, but finally, the true Spring! I'm celebrating with an original poem inspired by that most springy of colors: yellow. All of the photos are ones that I took in my own backyard (with the exception of the forsythia and Carolina jasmine which I let slip past my camera lens this year—those are from the royalty-free Pixabay site, bless 'em.)

 Spring Yellow/Yellow Spring

by Kathryn Louise Wood

If Spring had a color,

then yellow, it must be.

Buttercups, and daffodils,

and Carolina jasmine,

forsythia, and dandelions,

and yellow powdered pollen.

It's as though the flowers,

 and their magical dust—

                       

 collected by the bees,

 and spread from bloom to bloom—

 encourage the young sun

  to linger, ever longer,

  until the old world dances

  in the golden youth of Spring.

Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now. (And Happy Spring!)

Kate

Enchanted April...that fanciful month

"Like Peaches and Cream" photo by the author, K L Wood

There was a lovely movie made back in 1991 by the title, Enchanted April, in which a disparate group of English women come together for an Italian holiday in the month of April. The film, based on the 1922 novel, The Enchanted April by British author, Elizabeth von Arnim, follows the four women as they experience life-changing and life-affirming transformations in a nearly magical way. 

"April Shower" photo by K L Wood

There’s something about this month, by turns gentle and tempestuous, that feels magical to me. It coaxes me to believe in the mystical, the ephemeral, the world just beyond our earthly sight. Granted, as my husband will attest, it doesn’t take a big push for me to delve head and heart-first into enchanted realms. 

But, in April, I see fairies winking among the cherry blossoms, their tiny chariots pulled by buzzing honeybees. I see good-natured gnomes peeking out from beneath their toadstool umbrellas in the gentle April rain. Even the ubiquitous greenish-yellow pollen coating anything left stationary for a few moments, becomes pixie dust in my eyes. (I know. That’s a stretch, especially for the red-nosed allergy-sufferers, but it’s the way I choose to view the world.)

Here is a glimpse into my current Work-In-Progress, Murmuration, a book that falls within the magical/mythical realism genre. This passage takes place in Scotland in the month of June, but a Highlands’ June is a North Carolina April.

“Silver feathers of mist curled around Sarah’s shoulders and caressed her face with its moist silk. High above, a full moon cast down its sterling light as she passed, barefoot and silent, through the luminous glow of the garden toward the high-hedged maze.

Somewhere in its deep heart, lay her future.”

I will close out this post with a poem by Lucy Maude Montgomery, the author of the beloved Anne of Green Gables book series. I can tell from this poem, written about 1904, that as Anne, herself, might say, Lucy and I must be kindred spirits.

An April Night

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

The moon comes up o'er the deeps of the woods,
And the long, low dingles that hide in the hills,
Where the ancient beeches are moist with buds
Over the pools and the whimpering rills;

And with her the mists, like dryads that creep
From their oaks, or the spirits of pine-hid springs,
Who hold, while the eyes of the world are asleep,
With the wind on the hills their gay revelings.

Down on the marshlands with flicker and glow
Wanders Will-o'-the-Wisp through the night,
Seeking for witch-gold lost long ago
By the glimmer of goblin lantern-light.

The night is a sorceress, dusk-eyed and dear,
Akin to all eerie and elfin things,
Who weaves about us in meadow and mere
The spell of a hundred vanished Springs.

"Toadstool" photo by K L Wood

Thanks for stopping by. Y’all come back, now!

Kate

March Forth!...in shades of yellow

"Mama's Daffodil" photo by KLWood

If the month of March were a color, it would surely be yellow. Fresh new flowers burst forth in buttery lemon shades to encourage the golden sun on its journey toward the vernal equinox and beyond. Mirroring the sun are daffodils, dandelions, forsythia, and my personal favorite—buttercups.

"Buttercup Cottage" photo by KLWood

When we first found our home here in Edenton, North Carolina, it was in the month of March, with yellow swaths of gently gleaming buttercups swaying in the soft breezes of the Albemarle Sound. We were both smitten by the charm of this little, two-story Victorian-era cottage,

"Buttercups" by Manfred Richter- Pixabay  

surrounded by those diminutive botanical dancers, and promptly named it “Buttercup Cottage.”

Emily Dickinson welcomed March in her poem “Dear March—Come in." Here is the 

first stanza for your Spring reading pleasure:

How glad I am -

"Forsythia" by  KIMDAEJEUNG- Pixabay

I hoped for you before -

Put down your Hat -

You must have walked -

How out of Breath you are -

Dear March, how are you, and the Rest -

Did you leave Nature well -

Oh March, Come right upstairs with me -

I have so much to tell -

So, my dear reader, slip on your 

yellow sweater, don your yellow 

cap, or if there's rain, pull on 

"Dandelion" by Holi Ho- Pixabay

your yellow slicker, and 

March Forth to welcome 

the Sun-King of Spring

and his court of dancing yellow

blossoms!

Thanks for stopping by...

y’all come back, now!
Kate

"At Our Buttercup Cottage" photo by author's mother, Oleta Wood

It's May!...finally

"Raindrops On Our May Blossoms" photo by KL Wood

Although the calendar promises that Spring begins in March each year, most of us residing in the northern hemisphere realize Spring does not comfortably and reliably breathe among us until sometime in the month of May. And now at long last, May, in all its soft beauty, has arrived. Even my daughter living way up in New York state near the Canadian border has some flowers blooming, now. And so, in celebration of sweet May and in the sighting of a migrating rose-breasted grosbeak, who stopped at our kitchen window bird feeder on his way north to my daughter, I am happy to share some photographs from our spring garden (and bird feeder) as well as a lovely poem by John Burroughs. 

"Migrating Rose Breasted Grosbeak with Resident Dove"
photo by author's husband, William Ahearn

Burroughs was an American naturalist and writer who counted among his friends the likes of poet-Walt Whitman, inventor-Thomas Edison, automobile pioneer-Henry Ford, naturalist-John Muir, and American president-Theodore Roosevelt. Born in Spring, April 3, 1837, and dying in Spring, March 29, 1921, this poem, extolling the beauty of spring birds and flowers, is a fitting tribute to both him and to the month of May he so lovingly portrayed.

"John Burroughs" photo via Wikipedia (public domain)

"Rose Breasted Grosbeak Passing Through" photo by KL Wood

In May

by John Burroughs (1837-1921)

When grosbeaks show a damask rose

Amid the cherry blossoms white,

And early robins’ nests disclose

To loving eyes a joyous sight;

When columbines like living coals

Are gleaming ‘gainst the lichened rock,

And at the foot of mossy boles

Are young anemones in flocks;

When ginger-root beneath twin leaves

Conceals its dusky floral bell,

And showy orchid shyly weaves

In humid nook its fragrant spell;

When dandelion’s coin of gold

"Our Yellow Iris" photo by KL Wood

Anew is minted on the lawn,

And apple trees their buds unfold,

While warblers storm the groves at dawn;

When such delights greet eye and ear,

Then strike thy tasks and come away:

It is the joy-month of the year,

And onward sweeps the tide of May.

When farmhouse doors stand open wide

To welcome in the balmy air,

When truant boys plunge in the tide,

And school-girls knots of violets wear;

When Grapevines crimson in the shoot,

Like fin of trout in meadow stream,

And morning brings the thrush’s flute

Where dappled lilies nod and dream;

When varied tints outline the trees,

Like figures sketched upon a screen,

And all the forest shows degrees

Of tawny red and yellow-green;

When purple finches sing and soar,

Then drop to perch on open wing,

With vernal gladness running o’er

"Our Clematis in May" photo by KL Wood

The feathered lyrist of the spring:

When joys like these salute the sense,

And bloom and perfume fill the day,

Then waiting long hath recompense,

And all the world is glad with May.

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back, now! (And Happy May!)

Kate

March Forth!...with a Spring in your step

If the month of March was a color, surely it would be yellow. The yellow of breezy, blowing boughs

"March Forsythia" photo by KLWood

of forsythia, the yellow of nodding, trumpeting daffodils, the yellow of the ever boldening sun, racing toward its Vernal Equinox and then onward in its steady pace of lengthening light.

If March had a slogan, it would be “March Forth!” March forth into the greening of the year. March forth, high-stepping across puddles and patches of itinerant ice. March forth with the power of the March wind to your back.

If March had a Facebook page on which it noted its “Relationship” status, I’m certain it would choose, “It’s Complicated.” One day stormy, one day calm. One day frigid, one day warm. One day clinging to winter, one day plunging into spring. Mercurial, thy name is March.

John Philip Sousa, Nov 6, 1854-MARCH 6, 1932

If March was music it would, of course, be composed by the “March King,” John Philip Sousa. Proud, loud, and infectious, spurring us to put down our laptops and smartphones, and march around the kitchen table, banging our pot lids and beating our spoons, heads high, smiles wide. 

If March was a Bible verse, it might be, “And the lion shall lie down with the lamb.” After all, we’ve

all heard the saying, “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb,” right? True enough, except there are no lions lying down with lambs in the Bible. Not directly, anyway. This is one of the many misquoted/misremembered verses of the Good Book. Isaiah 11:6, “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.” Thus endeth our Bible Study lesson for the day.

If March was a mathematical symbol, it would be Pi. Pi the irrational, Pi the infinite possibility, Pi the unpredictable. Perhaps that is why March 14, is National Pi Day! I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bake an Apple “Pi” on the 14th, complete with a Pi symbol-shaped steam vent in the top crust.

"Running European Hare" photo by Malene Thyssen per Wikimedia Commons

If March was an animal, it would be the March Hare. Heard the English idiom, “Mad as a March Hare”?  (Remember Alice in Wonderland?) Seems European hares mate primarily during the month of March and go just a wee bit crazy in the process, jumping straight up into the air for no apparent reason, boxing with each other, darting around erratically. Of course, basketball fans may recognize this as “March Madness,” but that’s another whole genus of animal altogether.

If March was a poem, it would be by William Wordsworth. (Oh, what a wonderful name for a man so full of worthy words!) In his, “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” its first verse proclaims:

“I wandered lonely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host, of golden daffodils; 

Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.”

"Mama's Daffodil, 2018" by KL Wood

God bless you, March. You boisterous, bodacious, blustery, marvel of a month. And in this year, of 2018, you are heralded with full moons bookending your first and final days. By the almanac they may be called the Worm Moon and the Blue Moon, but for me they are the Lion Moon and the Lamb Moon. That bridge, spanning the seasonal chasm of winter to spring. Not a month to just “get through,” but one on which to stand high and look around, feeling the March wind blow the cobwebs away!

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back, now!

Kate

To Everything There is a Season...a time for every purpose under heaven

I’ve recently completed a year-long art project in which I photographed the same tree in the

"Spring Tree" by KL Wood

same field from the same angle in each of the four seasons. The project began, quite by accident, as we were traveling to Ahoskie last spring, and came across a magnificent tree standing alone in the middle of a young soybean field. It was so beautiful, standing regally above the new plants, that I asked my husband to stop so I could get out and take its portrait. I was so pleased with the result that I decided to capture it in each of the other seasons, as well. And, so, I did.

Each time I scrambled across the farm ditch and crouched near the earth to get the right viewpoint, I felt something different and, yet, something the same. It occurs to me, now, that the tree and its field are metaphors for time of year, time of day, and time of life.

In the spring of the year, sprays of tender, pastel green leaves covered the tree’s massive, old branches, and the little soybean plants fanned out in orderly rows around it. Spring, with its rebirth and promise of greatness to come. Morning of the year, with its watercolor sky, moist and softly fragrant. Childhood, with its gentle, joyful laughter.

"Summer Tree" by KL Wood

In mid-summer, I returned to discover a deep and verdant sea of green. Emerald clouds floated above the tree’s dark trunk. Not only could I no longer make out the tree’s individual branches, I could no longer see the bottom of the ditch, my feet tripping through a jungle of vines and wildflowers and briars. Snakes? Perhaps. But with camera in hand, I tend to take more risks than is my usual nature. Summer, with its rich dark soil flooded with life. Mid-day of the year, with its buzzing, fertile aliveness. Young adulthood, with its vibrant, boisterous dance.

"Autumn Tree" by KL Wood

In autumn, I found bronze leaves clinging tenaciously to the spreading branches. The freshly harvested field glowed with inner golden light. Autumn, with its time of harvest and gathering in. Afternoon of the year, reaping the fruits of the day’s labor. Middle age, with its toil and satisfaction of work well done.

And with our first snowfall, we braved the icy roads so I could capture my tree in that world of white. A great web of bare branches towered above the wind-smoothed snow field. I could

"Winter Tree" by KL Wood

not see where the bank ended and the ditch began, sinking above my knees into the billowy snowdrift. At least I was certain no snakes hid in those depths. Winter, with its snow-muffled quiet, and glistening crystal reflection of the sun. Evening of the year, with its luminous glow of moonlight and sparkling starlight. Old age, when the light of the soul shines through the fading of the flesh.

“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven…”

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back, now.

Kate

Spring Allergies...essential oils to the rescue

To quote Nanki Poo in Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado:

"Pink Azaleas" photo by KL Wood

"Fresh Cut Lavender Flowers" by Lexipexi via Wikimedia Commons

"Lemons" by By Zeynel Cebeci  via Wikimedia Commons

"The flowers that bloom in the spring,
Tra la,
Breathe promise of merry sunshine..."

But for some of us, the flowers that bloom in the spring (tra la) breathe promise of runny noses, itchy eyes, and headaches. There are several essential oils that can bring relief to these less-than-welcome signs of spring. Three of the most popular and effective are:

Lavender- 
A natural antihistamine and anti-inflammatory. It also has the added bonus of cleansing the air and relaxing mind and body.

Lemon-
A natural antihistamine and anti-inflammatory. Helps relieve excess mucus and its fresh, citrus scent is uplifting. (Lemon can add to photosensitivity so go sparingly if you are going out into the sunlight.)

Peppermint-
An anti-inflammatory that helps open breathing passages. Its fragrance is energizing.

"Peppermint Plant" by By Gürkan Sengün  via Wikimedia Commons

These three are great individually and fantastic when combined with each other. Diffuse them in a home essential oil diffuser, mix them with a carrier oil of your choice (such as jojoba) or lotion and massage into your skin, add a few drops to your soaking bath, place drops on a cotton ball and inhale, mix with carrier oil in a roller ball bottle and apply to temples, back of neck, and pulse points.

So go out, breathe in Spring, (and carry an essential oil roller ball with you!)

Have a good couple weeks, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now! (Tra la!)

Kate

(As always: this post is for information only for adult use and does not replace medical advice. Тest out an oil first by placing a small diluted amount on your arm as a patch test. In particular, those who are or could be pregnant should always refer to their physicians before using any essential oils.) 

Spring- when a young man's fancy lightly turns to...Ylang Ylang!

Cananga Flower (Ylang Ylang Flowers) by Ks.mini via Wikimedia Commons 

Back in 1835, Alfred Lord Tennyson pronounced, "In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." One might add that the warmth and promise of Spring turns all our thoughts to love! And the essential oil to help encourage such thoughts to move into desired channels of attention or just keep our own minds and hearts focused on the emotion of the season? According to aromatherapists, that would be Ylang Ylang. From my own experience with this essential oil in aromatherapy blends, I heartily agree. It has the most luscious, sensual fragrance you can imagine. No wonder it is often used in perfumes. And its fragrance is so concentrated, just a little bit goes a long way. Too much is overpowering.

Ylang Ylang is utilized as an:

Ylang
Ylang Ylang (Cananga odorata) Essential Oil in clear glass vial
by Iteneranttrader via Wikimedia Commons

Antidepressant- its fragrance has qualities that lift the spirit, ease stress, and relax the body and mind

Antiseborrhoeic- helps regulate the natural sebum production in the skin, aiding in relief of seborrhoeic eczema

Antiseptic- acts as a disinfectant and inhibits microbial growth in wounds

Aphrodisiac- used in many cultures to stimulate those thoughts and feelings that arise come Springtime! (Also attributed to balancing hormone levels)

Hypotensive- its stress-lowering qualities contribute to a lower blood pressure

Nervine- boosts the nervous system and reduces emotional strain on nerves

Sedative- its ability to lower stress levels and calm the mind helps induce a good night's sleep (of course, if you are thinking all those "love thoughts" it encourages, that might keep you awake at night!)

Cananga Odorata in Maui, Hawaii by Forest and Kim Starr
via Wikimedia Commons

The essential oil of Ylang Ylang is steam distillation extracted from the fresh flowers of the Ylang Ylang tree, (Cananga Odorata,) commonly found in the rain forests of Asian and South Pacific Islands like Indonesia, Philippines, Java, Sumatra, Comoro and Polynesia. Its chief components are benzyl acetate, benzyl benzoate linalool, caryophyllene, geranyl acetate, methyl benzoate, p-cresyl methyl ether and other components known as Sesquiterpenes, all of which contribute to its fragrance and medicinal properties.

So inhale it, soak in a bath infused with it, massage it in with your carrier oil of choice, or lightly dab it on your skin, and lose yourself in Ylang Ylang's sensual, joyous cloud of Springlike goodness. 

Have a good couple weeks, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now! (And inhale deeply...)

Kate

(As always: this post is for information only and does not replace medical advice. Тest out an oil first by placing a small diluted amount on your arm as a patch test. In particular, those who are or could be pregnant should always refer to their physicians before using any essential oils.)