Spring arrives and the woods are damp, rich, earthy. You can smell it and almost taste it and certainly feel it—hopefulness.
The Feeling of Spring
Category Archives: happiness
Winter Ingredients for a Contented Life
good health—the positive management of your health
enough food—bowls of berries and platters of cheese, black beans, red tomatoes and good chocolate
the love of another person, or of an animal
safety—a warm home without fear
steaming cups of coffee and strong, black tea
good books on frigid mornings
candles that smell like balsam, like cherry pipe tobacco, like spicy cinnamon
old photos
tattered quilts
pine cones and dried flowers in vases
love letters tucked away with ribbons
crunchy walks in the snow
a good type of tired—from puttering in the house, from doing good for others, from shoveling someone’s walkway, from reading an entire book of poems in one night
freedom to get things wrong and freedom to get things right every once in a while
At My House
At my house, there are books. There are open books, stacks of books, groupings, families, renegades. There are plants and flowers; dried and fresh flowers, long leaves in vases, old pottery with lavender. You may find sticks on the table, or maybe a rock, a wing, pens and pencils, a lipstick, a moth.
There is an old hand-made quilt with a tiny rose print and there is art. Some is mine and some is not mine. There is chocolate and Spanish ham, cheeses, fruit, sometimes wine, sometimes good dark beer and sometimes whiskey. There are little statues of birds and fawns. There is music from the 60’s and 70’s and 90’s; occasionally opera, or Gregorian chants, mostly folk, rock, country, classical guitar.
At my house, there are candles and incense. There is a stained glass lamp with ruby spiders and there are hurricane lamps and sand dollars.
What is your safe place? I was asked recently—and I answered, “my house”.
Bringing Joy
your green eyes and
the way the sun shone through the pink petals—
Rita’s painted egg and two sand dollars on the toy chest,
Queen Anne’s Lace in the wild lane
where I walked alone on a late summer’s day
On a Walk
on a walk, i collect things—
pointy things, tiny things, velvety petals, beautiful leaves, memories, wishes, small moments of peace and happiness
spanishwoods 