Thoughts of Christmas

 

"I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys." - Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol" 

 "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus." - Francis Pharcellus Church  

"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." - Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol" 

 "Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveler, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!" - Charles Dickens, "The Pickwick Papers" (1836)

  "Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling." - Edna Ferber  

"I do like Christmas on the whole.... In its clumsy way, it does approach Peace and Goodwill. But it is clumsier every year." - E.M. Forster  

"Fail not to call to mind, in the course of the twenty-fifth of this month, that the most Divine Heart that ever walked the earth was born on that day; and then smile and enjoy yourselves for the rest of it; for mirth is also of Heaven's making." - Leigh Hunt 

  "Christmas is the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart." - Washington Irving 

 "I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!" - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

 "I hear that in many places something has happened to Christmas; that it is changing from a time of merriment and carefree gaiety to a holiday which is filled with tedium; that many people dread the day and the obligation to give Christmas presents is a nightmare to weary, bored souls; that the children of enlightened parents no longer believe in Santa Claus; that all in all, the effort to be happy and have pleasure makes many honest hearts grow dark with despair instead of beaming with good will and cheerfulness." - Julia Peterkin, A Plantation Christmas (1934) 

 "Love came down at Christmas; Love all lovely, love divine; Love was born at Christmas, Stars and angels gave the sign." - Christina Rossetti  

"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more." - Dr. Seuss  

"A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year." - Walter Scott  

"To perceive Christmas through its wrapping becomes more difficult with every year." - E.B. White, "The Second Tree from the Corner" 

 "Somehow, not only for Christmas But all the long year through, The joy that you give to others Is the joy that comes back to you. 

  "And the more you spend in blessing the poor and lonely and sad, The more of your heart's possessing Returns to you glad." - John Greenleaf Whittier

Bird Meditation

When the weather gets colder it can be more difficult to get in touch with the marvel of nature as it exists around us. Finding innovative ways to really connect with nature brings us closer to the wonders that envelop our lives. One way to do this is to perform a meditation with our feathered friends, the bird kingdom.

Just by taking a few moments each day to watch the bird activity that goes on in our backyards through our windows can bring a sense of calm and well-being to our lives. Watching and being with the birds that we share our garden space with us allows us to experience greater feelings of relaxation and gratitude for the diversity that is always present around us. Simply watching, without judgment or expectations, heightens our awareness of the beauty of nature. If you watch the birds for a long enough period of time you will begin to feel a great sense of deep joy within you knowing we are all truly divine. Doing this with our family members will in turn introduce a meditative practice that can easily be shared and appreciated by all, as well as create deeper bonds with each other through the joy of experiencing the healing power of nature.

Looking through our windows and placing a feeder and bird bath in our gardens to attract the birds is a way to call forth beauty into our lives. As we consciously connect with our outer world—even when the weather inhibits us from physically being in it—we see that the splendor we view outside of our windows is simply a reflection of what lies within us .

Gathering the Tree

Twas the holiday season and the day after Thanksgiving, when I was just a small fry, it was the custom for my dad and I to fetch the tree home for the holidays. We would usually go to a neighbor’s woodlot, - with permission - and gather up a tree each year. 

 

 One year, when I was 10, my dad and I visited with an elderly neighbor across the river, and she said to take a tree out by Gravely Brook. We walked out there, and saw several trees and dad decided he wanted to try a cedar tree, as he liked the smell of them and it would not have needles to shed all over the floor. He picked out a real nice one, and we chopped it down, thru it on top of the car and headed home. Upon arriving home, we set it up in a bucket of sand and watered the sand down. The tree would sit like this for 2-3 days, so it would adjust to the warm temperatures before we would decorate it. Since we had several cats, we would be careful to cover the sand so they would not use it as a place for pooping and peeing in. 

 

A couple of days later, a strong smell of urine permeated the room, and we wondered if we had protected the dirt. We looked and we had, but we also noticed the smell was stronger in the area of the tree. Sniffing the branches, we realized that the tree smelled of urine, and after some research found out this variety of cedar would smell like that. Needless to say, the tree was escorted outside and dad and I went back and picked a balsam for the tree that year. 

 

When I was 14, my dad was in the VA hospital from November thru May, and I was promoted to "man of the house". Which meant all of my dad's chores were now mine, as well as gathering the family Christmas tree.  

 

I had been grooming a spruce by the road that was amongst my pine seedlings and it seemed time to harvest it. I checked it out the few weeks before and it was standing tall at 6'  Checking it out the day before the planned harvesting, I discovered that someone else had cut it down and absconded with it. That meant a new plan had to be hatched quickly and I would need to go further afield.

 

It was snowing on the Saturday for gathering the tree, the wind was a blowing from the Northeast something fierce, and the drifts were piling up to a point taller than I. 

 

Now, this was before my physical growth spurt of 6" one fine summer, so I was still "little". If one would call 5'-6" and 127 lbs "little." I bundled up and headed out down our lane, crossed the gravel road which traversed the valley and followed the neighbor’s fence to a wood lot about a mile away, just below the ledge of limestone outcropping. The area had a creek running thru it, with marsh grass along its banks. 

 

By this time the wind and snow had created white out conditions, and it was uphill - really! When saw to the woodlot, I made a left hand turn and sought out the area I had spotted a evergreen earlier in the month exploring and adventures. 

 

Scouring the area in front of me, I spotted a grey form not far in front of me, and when I managed a closer look, found a Xmas tree to take back home. I was not being too choosy today, as any old green tree would do. I cut it down with my trusty hatchet, yes a hatchet! - ghezz, my story - and tied a rope to the base. I then looped the rope around my waist and started back for home. 

 

After struggling a hundred yards, I then noticed that my back trail had all but disappeared, so I headed in the direction to where the fence should be. After some angst moments the fence line was spotted thru the blowing snow, and now the path to the road was assured, and I could see the tree setting in its entire splendor in the living room corner. I dragged that pesky tree for a mile downhill and then uphill and finally made the lane to home. Walking down the country lane, I felt like an explorer returning from a great adventure. 

 

The chair beside the wood fire and heat from the pot-bellied stove in the kitchen became my resting place while I sipped hot chocolate. 

 

My socks and pants hung on the back of the chair and steamed as the snow and ice melted off them leaving little puddles on the floor.

Joy

 

“Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others, cannot keep it from themselves.”

Sir James M. Barrie 

 

“Time spent laughing is time spent with the gods.”

Japanese Proverb

 

“To have joy one must share it. Happiness was born a twin.”

Lord Byron 

 

“True happiness involves the full use of one's power and talents.”

John W. Gardner 

 

“When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.”

Cherokee Expression

 

Picture is of artist rendering my 6th great mother, Granny Grasshopper, of the Hopper Wolf Tribe Clan Cherokee

Imagination

Imagination

“I am guided by the same intelligence and inspired by the same imagination which scatters the moon beams across the waves and holds the forces of nature in it's grasp.”
Ernest Holmes

 

“Many mystics have said, and it is true, that anything you see is not God. Anything you think is not God, neither are visions, lights, moving objects or anything else. Any sensation or feeling is not God. They are all the products of the creation or your imagination.”

Barry Long

 

“Everything you can imagine is real.”
Pablo Picasso

 

“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
Albert Einstein

 

“Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one.”
 Terry Pratchett

 

The Last Hunt

 

My favorite place for hunting and relaxing, years ago was in the river valley where I grew up and lived for 15 years. The valley is located just below a ledge of limestone that ran for miles along the Peshtigo River, north of Harmony. This several mile-wide valley followed the coppery colored river that is bordered with a limestone outcropping that rises 50 – 60 feet on the western side.

At the top of the ledge, I could see for miles, across the river, beyond more farms and glimpse the Tamarack bog in the distance. During the peak of fall color, the beauty of the valley is amplified. Four families lived in this side of the river valley and called it home, two of them farming the land, a vacation home in the river, and hobby farm owned then by my parents. The crops in the fields were now stored in the barns, and only the stubble of the cornrows showed, as if waiting for the covering of the 1st snowfall. Every so often the lazy flow of the river cutting through the valley peaked out from the colorful hues of the trees, and along with the view of the fall foliage, it was, as always, breath taking.

The foliage was bursting forth in fall colors with the golden hues of the maples, along with the amber, orange, and red flags of higher branches in the trees as if shouting, “notice me.” The shimmering yellow of the poplars, birches, and ash, and the dark greens of the evergreens dotting the landscape - much like exclamation points - added more colors to the canvas of my mind’s eye for years to come. This ledge of limestone became my mother’s byline and title (under the ledge) of many articles in her writings as she entered the areas writing contests. It also became my blog’s name in tribute to her.

It was the start of Thanksgiving week, traditional deer opener in Wisconsin, and I had spent the previous two weekends scouting where I wanted to be opening morning at daybreak. I had selected the perfect place to lay in wait in the middle of 40 acres of woods at the crest of a knoll, in a comfortable crotch of a Sugar Maple tree as the best place to ambush a wily buck.

I had driven from Hudson, WI. the day before, and it was unseasonably warm with the temps in the 60's! I arose at 3AM to have breakfast, pour a thermos of coffee, and to get dressed in my blaze orange gear. I hiked out to my tree about a good mile away, crossing a gravel lane, a harvested cornfield, a small gurgling creek, and walked into the woods. It was still dark out, and as I walk and listening to the crunch of the leaves underfoot, I heard a rustling of the brush to my right and figured I had spooked a deer from its bed. Evidently, my selected hunting area was also a desirable place for deer to bed down for the night. I felt the rise of the terrain to the knoll, walked to the top of it, and there was the Maple tree. I climbed the tree into the branches and pulled up my rifle and made myself comfortable.

As dawned approached, I heard a squirrel chatter, then jump into my tree, and exited from the other side into another tree. He was on his way, to the distant oak tree by the field. The woods came alive with sounds of the forest, as more wildlife started moving about, and the birds were singing their songs welcoming the crack of dawn. Slowly, the silence returned to the woods and surrounding areas became peaceful, and in the silence my mind I wandered as if in another time. I had a panoramic view and there was truly little I could not see. I watched, waited, and listened, always on the alert for my buck to walk into view. Suddenly, I heard noise coming in from my left, looked and there was a hunter walking below the rise of my knoll. He did not see me, and as he disappeared, I realized any deer in the area would also lay low now and this would be a good time to pour myself a cup of coffee from my thermos.

An ebony raven chuckled in the sky overhead, sounding it alerts to all that would hear on this bright sunny day. The sweet, fragrant scent of fresh pine and cedar mingled in the still morning air, a rich, pleasant aroma that never leaves the senses once it enters.

Another couple of hours passed, and I heard a gunshot off to the east at the edge of the woods, and someone yelling, “I got it.” The voice sounded like one of my neighbor friends from the valley. Soon other voices joined the exchange, and I knew it was the neighborhood hunting party, and figured I may as well get down and join the group. I made sure I made some noise along with talking, so as not to surprise anyone, and walked out of the brush at the edge of the woods. A neighbor had shot a doe and was talking about doing a drive to clean out the woods as he had seen a buck slip into that area moments after he shot the doe. He decided he would carry the deer on his shoulders out of the woods, and he would then post at the top of the ledge on the road.

Since, we knew each other, I joined up with them, and we posted 4 hunters, Sam, Jim, Clyde, and Kenny on the other side along the road, with Sam being down a farm lane where he could have good shooting if they flushed out in the harvested cornfields by him. Sam had been injured in a farming accident several years before and had lost his right eye, so he liked clear shots. The fields would give him that opportunity. The woods followed a creek bed, along the limestone outcropping, and I was to walk just below the top of the ledge.

Since the wooded area was only about 150 feet wide at this point, another friend, Charlie, walked below me along the edge of the field and creek. Thus, we had 2 drivers, Charlie and me, for flushing the deer. We had walked for 15 minutes and were within 100 yards of the road, and as planned, the buck along with two does flushed into the field, except they were at the top of the ledge and not in the cornfield below us. The buck would be an easy peasy shots for me, and I could already see him hanging in the tree, but for the moment some patience also was needed as a farmhouse was now silhouetting the deer. I calmly waited for the deer to move more to my left and I aligned my sights on the buck’s brisket and followed his movement. Finally, he was almost to the area of a clear shot with open fields behind him.

I took a deep breath and just as I was ready to squeeze the trigger, I heard a buzzing sound, much like a deer fly or angry bees, then another - and another -whizzing by my head and chest. These were followed by the cracks of a rifle from below, and another bullet hit the rocks in front of me, spraying my pants legs with rock fragments, only then did I then start to realize what was happening. It was as if I was in a dream, and nothing was making any sense. I was ready to shoot; yet I was now the target! Or at least I was in the way of the intended target. Time seemed to stand still, as I froze with nowhere to hide. Charlie, by this time had dived behind a log and was looking up the ledge towards me, motioning for me to hit the deck, yet I had nowhere to go.

However, this buck was making the most of this turn of events, and in my dream-like state, I just stared at him as he scampered back into the woods. The fun of this hunt had evaporated in an instant and as I emptied my gun, I looked down the hill; Charlie was still lying behind a log! I focused down the road, and there Sam was yelling and gesturing wildly, that if I would not shoot the buck, he would do it from his position. He had tried firing around me to get the buck himself! I looked to see if I had been hit and did not see or feel any wounds. I then walked out of those woods shaking and speechless, but my mind was cussing a blue streak, and as I hit the road, Sam looked at me with a perplexed look, and I angrily yelled at him, "you are lucky, that I did not shoot back, but next time I will!” Then my mind and tongue became one and I unleashed a verbal onslaught aimed directly at him. He just shrugged his shoulders and said he did not know why I was so upset. That was the last time I talked to him or hunted.

Years have passed, and as well as a decade or two, and as I reflect on this last hunt, I know that that day, I had kept several guardian angels busy. Every fall, as I look out onto the panorama views of golden hues, flaming reds, and green exclamation points, my new choice of weapons seems so much wiser. With the camera, I can snap a picture, and still experience the joy of being close to nature and leave the area as I found it. Peaceful and quiet.