Monday, January 17, 2011

HOW CAN I KEEP FROM SINGING?


My life flows on in endless song:
Above earth's lamentation,
I catch the sweet, tho' far-off hymn
That hails a new creation.


There's ice in the riffle and rain/sleet/snow on the way. Or so they say.

I say, Give us whatever you've got, January. Throw it all in—the whole shebang. 

Hey, that's what winter's for, right? Not just a season of cold and snow and icicles along the eaves…but a weather test of the spirit; a barometer of hope and resolve.

To face and find your way through winter while remaining light of heart and bubbling in good cheer is to simply reiterate your faith in a warmer, brighter—better—world ahead.

So bring on those storms. Let the winds howl like restless banshees. My wood is split and stacked. There's food in the larder, love in my life. 

The titmouse and I remain unperturbed, joyful in our days—alive in the here and now. 

Every day is beautiful.    
———————

20 comments:

George said...

Well said, Grizz. The only thing you have failed to mention specifically is the cassoulet and cornbread you mentioned a few days ago. Armed with those reserves, I could survive the most challenging of winters. The word "cassoulet," moreover, turns my thoughts to Camus, who once said (I may be off a few words): "In the midst of winter, I found within me an invincible summer." Sounds like you, Grizz — or for that matter, it sounds like my view as well.

As for the titmouse who sings with great abandon, he looks as though he belongs in a church choir.

Grizz………… said...

George…

That aforementioned cassoulet is history. As is the green-bean chili that followed, and the stir-fried chicken with ginger, garlic, sesame oil, and brown rice that got finished off for yesterday's late supper. (Today is beef and homemade egg noodles, with a sort of Waldorf salad.)

When I said the larder was prepared, I meant it!

Hey, I love that Camus quote…even if slightly George-edited. Glad, too, that you liked my singing titmouse. Frankly, he could be leading the choir!

Jain said...

Your photo is only surpassed by your words, Grizz, thanks for the smile!

Gail said...

GRI-

I couldn't agree more. We are bracing for an ice storm over night in t tomorrow. Our wood is stacked and dry inside, we have food and wine and quilts and lanterns if need be and water in five gallon containers should we lose power and want to/ought to, flush!! :-) My only gripe is that Skipp doesn't have his days off this week - his Asst. Mgr. is away and there is no to to cover. sigh........ well, I will tough it out and not be a brat heehee, who me?? :-)
Enjoy your ice storm and all else that surrounds you.
Love Gail
peace.....

Arija said...

What a wonderful affirmation of life! . . . and really the only way to live. Nourishment of the heart, of the soul and of the body is all we need to be able to surmount whatever challenges we are faced with.

Keep on singing and writing Grizz!

Beyond My Garden said...

We seem to have a similar landscape surrounding us. We must not be too far from each other.I'm glad I found you and will be back.
nellie

Kay said...

I agree with what you said so well. Despite the seeming harshness and cruelty that the natural world can display, it is also emblematic of ever-present hope and affirmation. I'm reminded of Emily Dickinson's bird that sang in the gale. We may be unaware of the joy, but it is there in the bird's song.
Your words and photos always give me a lift!
Kay

Grizz………… said...

Jain…

Thank you. The titmouse shot—which I think is a neat pose—was simply luck. But still neat.

BTW, I really enjoyed your Big Island post. (Should have commented, I know.) I'm going to have to get up that way one of these days when a lot of the prairie stuff is popping.

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

Our rain is now starting—just as I'm heading for bed. The snow will be gone tomorrow, then it will turn to sleet and all freeze. The snow will be here Wednesday. Ought to be interesting.

Mayladylove is off tomorrow, but we have lots of running to do—so we'll be right out in the midst of things.

Grizz………… said...

Arija…

I expect I'm preaching to the choir with you…as I have no doubts you know how to live and enjoy life. And you're right, there is no better way…

Grizz………… said...

Beyond My Garden…

Hey, I'm glad you found your way to the riverbank. As a guess, I'd say I'm west and maybe a bit north…but we;ll figure out those details later. For now know you're always welcome here—and I appreciate your nice comments.

Grizz………… said...

Kay…

If I've learned nothing else in my maturity it's that life is such a wondrous gift, each day a new delight and a true blessing. I don't how else to react except with gratitude and joy…and now and then a bit of song.

Arija said...

Grizz, if you are minded to drop by for a visit, you might, or might not, like my for pot. It's a couple of posts down.

I guess I've just had one of those mornings . . . when the love of your life becomes beyond unpredictable and reason has fled out the window, it is time to count the stars and look beyond the pitfalls.

Sorry for griping, it has been rather a wearing morning.

Who knows, tomorrow I may trill like your beautiful little bird again.

Grizz………… said...

Arija…

I did have a look and was again captivated by the lovely land and flowers and colors—even in the fog.

As to your morning, I do understand. Life happens, time has its way. Sometimes all we can do is hold on and wait…but then, would you really want to live without highs and lows? I have my down days, too. I don't think your can appreciate happiness without haven known sadness. Just don't ever allow the darkness to engulf your heart and spirit. Cling to joy and light. Tomorrow awaits.

Hilary said...

Beautiful bird.. wonderful photo and uplifting words. What could be better?

The Weaver of Grass said...

A post like this every day for a week Grizz and I would be feeling really great - what a lift it has given me. Thanks for that, I needed it.

Grizz………… said...

Hilary…

Thank you. Literally speaking, I tend to whistle or hum more than sing, unless I'm alone, but my late mother was truly God's singer—she sang in happiness and sorrow, while doing housework, washing dishes, cooking, or for no other reason than looking out the kitchen window at the birds and flowers in the back yard. Even in the midst of pain and grief, Mom's soul truly remained filled with joy all the days of her long life…and know of no better example or philosophy to weave as a shining thread through my own.

Grizz………… said...

Weaver…

I'm so glad you liked this…and hope you're feeling better. BTW, I hope you did see the riverside "walk" I posted after your suggestion.

Jain said...

Glad you liked the post, Grizz. The place is a bit spoiled for me, knowing that so much of it has been altered from its original state, but I need to ignore that part and appreciate the wild bits.

Drop a line if you get up this way! We'll give you and Yourladylove a tour!

Grizz………… said...

Jain…

I think I understand how you feel—there's a big park area not far from here that I knew well as a kid, before it became a park. I camped, hunted pawpaws and mushrooms, and ran around at will and rather wildly all over the place, plus I often drove the tractor and helped the old guy who owned some of the farmland part. When it became a park, so much of it changed, and much in ways I didn't like because it messed with my memories. It took me almost two decades before I began going back.

I appreciate the offer—and might indeed make it up that way this summer. If so, I'll be sure to let you know. Thank you.