Pussy Willows for Arbor Day

Spring Willows
by Andrea Wisnewski

Pussy Willows
Perfect for Arbor Day

Willow Baby
by Elsa Beskow (1874 – 1953)

Poetry Book Illustration

Previous Arbor Day Posts

Trees of Edinburgh

In Celebration of Earth Day
Past & Present

Lost

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

David Wagoner (1926 – 2021)
American poet, novelist, and educator
More by Wagoner: QK & FN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From My Photo Album ~ 2018

Death Awaits, Books Await

Most Entertaining Present I've Received All Year

Some humorous product reviews.

"Till death do us steep.”

Actuarially Impossible: “Of course anyone who truly loves books buys more of them than he or she can hope to read in one fleeting lifetime. A good book, resting unopened in its slot on a shelf, full of majestic potentiality, is the most comforting sort of intellectual wallpaper.” ~ David Quammen

Current Book Blog:
April Foolery
@Kitti's List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And on the serious side:

Death I Recant

@The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A literary blog of connection & coincidence;
custom & ceremony

Church Bell ~ Ward, Colorado, 1917
By Georgia O'Keeffe

“ . . . never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
it tolls for thee . . . ” ~John Donne

My Ain Countrie

Photos above and below ~ Edinburgh, 2018

My Ain Countrie

The sun rises bright in France,
and fair sets he,
But he has lost the look he had,
in my ain countrie
Though gladness comes to many,
a sorrow comes to me
As I look o’er the ocean wide
tae my ain countrie

It’s no my ain ruin
that saddens aye my ee
But the love I left in Gallowa
wi bonnie bairnies three
My hamely hearth burns bonnie
an smiles my sweet Marie
I left my heart behind me,
in my ain countrie

The bird wins back tae summertime,
and the blossom tae the tree
But I’ll win back, no never,
tae my ain countrie
I’m leal tae high heaven,
that will prove leal tae me
An I will meet ye aa aricht soon,
frae my ain countrie

Allan Cunningham (1784 – 1842)

I remember asking my Grandfather Paul Lindsey, many years ago, if he knew an old folksong entitled "My Ain Countrie." It had to be further back than 1983, because that's when he died. I had come across the song title in a novel I was reading -- in junior high? senior high, college? At any rate, way back before search engines and youtube, so I asked my erudite grandpa instead. He was an expert at reciting old poems and songs, and I thought he knew everything, but this time he drew a blank: "I just don't know that one Honey Girl."

How I would have loved to learn the lyrics and hear the melody, but it didn't happen. Not until today! For whatever reason, after all these years, that title -- "My Ain Countrie" -- came floating through my mind again this afternoon, and within moments, thanks to 21st Century technology, the above rendition and the following information was available to me:

"My Ain Countrie
"A sad late Jacobite song of exile.

"The song was written by Allan Cunningham, an author and poet in the manner of Robert Burns, who was born at Keir, near Dalswinton, Dumfriesshire. Cunningham’s father had been a neighbour of Robert Burns at Ellisland, and Allan became a friend of James Hogg.

"Cunningham was asked by Robert Cromek to help gather old songs for Cromek’s book called 'Robert Hartley Cromek's Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song.' Cunningham successfully presented several of his own imitations of ballads and Jacobite songs as old originals. One of these was ‘My Ain Countrie.’

"The tune is said to be ‘A Gaelic air.’"

Now, if asked what novel I was reading when I first came across the reference to "My Ain Countrie," I would have said it was the funeral of Charlie (one of the Eight Cousins) in Rose in Bloom, However, my internet search tells me that this song appears nowhere in the works of Louisa May Alcott or even Sir Walter Scott.

All I have learned so far is that some version of this song was sung as a hymn at the funeral of Lizzie Borden! I don't think this is what I was reading about back in the 8th grade, or whenever it was. I think I would remember that.

In one of those mixed blessings, the music and lyrics have at last been revealed to me, even though I have lost the original reference. Perhaps it may yet be restored to my memory. Through the portal . . .

Open All the Windows!

Spring in Gościeradz (1933)
Leon Jan Wyczółkowski (1852 – 1936)
Leading Polish painter and educator

Today

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

by Billy Collins (b. 1941)
from his collection
Aimless Love: New and Selected Poems

Spring in Goscieradz
by Leon Jan Wyczolkowski

with its ethereal energy
coming from book, curtain, tree, light

also appears on my recent post:

Book on Windowsill

@Kitti's List

Spring: She is Risen

Spring / April Personified

The Rose Princess (1917)

By John Rea Neill
(November 12, 1877 – September 19, 1943)

Illustration of Ozga the Rose Princess
from "Tik-Tok of Oz"

A Poem for the Death & Resurrection

The Thrush

When Winter's ahead,
What can you read in November
That you read in April
When Winter's dead?

I hear the thrush, and I see
Him alone at the end of the lane
Near the bare poplar's tip,
Singing continuously.

Is it more that you know
Than that, even as in April,
So in November,
Winter is gone that must go?

Or is all your lore
Not to call November November,
And April April,
And Winter Winter—no more?

But I know the months all,
And their sweet names, April,
May and June and October,
As you call and call

I must remember
What died into April
And consider what will be born
Of a fair November;

And April I love for what
It was born of, and November
For what it will die in,
What they are and what they are not,

While you love what is kind,
What you can sing in
And love and forget in
All that's ahead and behind.

By [Philip] Edward Thomas
(3 March 1878 – 9 April 1917)
Yet another poet lost to the First World War

Found in 10 Beautiful Spring Poems
and The Guardian

To Complete the Cycle . . .
Autumn / November Personified

14th of Nisan

Vintage Postcard
On Facebook

I can never let this day -- the 14th of Nisan -- go by
without rereading my favorite sections
from my favorite novel:

The Master and Margarita
by Mikhail Bulgakov

"On the fourteenth day of the spring month of Nisan . . . a tom cat, huge as a hog, black as pitch or a crow, and with huge mustache, for all the world like a rakish cavalryman's . . . walked over to the boarding step of an 'A' streetcar waiting at the stop, brazenly elbowed aside a woman who squealed as she saw him, grasped the hand rails and even attempted to give the conductor a coin . . .. . . Neither the conductor, nor the passengers were as astounded by the situation itself -- a cat climbing into a streetcar--which would not have been half so bad, as by his wish to pay his fare!

"The tom, it turned out, was not only a solvent, but also a disciplined beast. At the conductor's first cry, he ceased his advance, got down from the step, and sat down at the stop, rubbing his whiskers with the coin. But as soon as the conductor pulled the cord and the cars started, the tom proceeded to do what anyone else would who had been expelled from a streetcar but must nevertheless get to his destination. Allowing all three cars to go by, the tom jumped up onto the rear of the last one, sank his claws into a rubber tube projecting from the wall, and rode away, thus saving himself the fare."

More on my blogs:
QK ~ KL ~ FN

Pink Candle for Palm Sunday

Advent Painting by Julian Sullivan

Artist's note:
"Herewith, our 2025 Christmas Card,
which you should be able to print and display if you wish.
The subject of Julian's watercolour
is Veronica's candle arrangement
for Advent and Christmas."

In the words of the traditional hymn:
“All glory be to God on high,
and to the earth be peace, and to the earth be peace . . . ”

One Little Candle
by Chicago
with Children's Choir

It is better to light just one little candle
Than to stumble in the dark
Better far that you light just one little candle
All you need is a tiny spark
If we'd all say a prayer that the world would be free
A wonderful dawn of a new day we'd see
And if everyone lit just one little candle
What a bright world this would be

When the day is dark and dreary
And we know not where to go;
Don't let your heart go weary
Just keep this thought in mind:

It is better to light just one little candle
Than to stumble in the dark
Better far that you light just one little candle
All you need is a tiny spark
If we'd all say a prayer that the world would be free
A wonderful dawn of a new day we'd see
And if everyone lit just one little candle
What a bright world this would be

Fortnightly Reconnections

Untitled Tea Scene
by Henri Matisse (1869-1954)
Additional Matisse paintings: QK & FN

Recent Posts of Reconnection

1. Reconnecting with a long - lost poem,
after years of searching!
Burning the Letters

2. Reconnecting with a dear friend
who, it turns out, retired to the same town we did,
and we didn't even realize it!
Ease Into the Conversation

3. Reconnecting with the NO KINGS VIBE!
Organized Protest #3
Come the revolution!
No Kings, No Traitors

You can read all of these and more
@The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A literary blog of connection & coincidence;
custom & ceremony

Delacroix et Delacroix

Christ in the Garden of Olives (1827)
by Eugène Delacroix (1798 - 1863)
~ and many more ~

"Over the strong red soil of Galilee Jesus sailed like a boat. Picture him sailing past the feasts at which the men dance to melancholy music. Sailing through the olive orchards, through the vineyards where black grapes pout like moons. Sailing across the viaduct that spans Cheesemakers' Valley. Sailing up and down the slopes of ripening wheat. Sailing around the harp-shaped Lake of Galilee. Sailing through the heat, through the barking of dogs and the sawing of grasshoppers, through the herds of cud-chewing camels whose burdens bear scents of Eastern spices, through the crumbling villages where at dusk flitting bats frighten the women at the wells. And always, as he sailed, spouting his madness to his astonished disciples; his mad, extremist, unstructured, non-linear, poetic babble of forgiveness and love." (299)

from Another Roadside Attraction (1971)
by Tom Robbins (1932 – 2025)

******************

And, unrelated, but while we're on this page:
a completely different Delacroix:

La Bonne Galett ~ Paris, France (1975)
by Michel Delacroix (b 1933)
~ and many more ~

More from the Gospel According to
Another Roadside Attraction

Equinox Earth & Sky

Vernal Equinox:
High Noon With Flying Saucer

"Late, late yestreen I saw the new moon,
With the old Moon in her arms . . ."

from "The Ballad of Sir Patrick Spens"

I have been celebrating the Vernal Equinox
by rereading my favorite sections
and random quotations
from Another Roadside Attraction
by Tom Robbins:

Tarzan explains paganism to Jesus
(excerpt from Part IV, 302 - 304)

"Nothing in the vegetable world succumbs. It simply drops away and then returns. Energy is never destroyed. We planted our dead the way we planted our seeds. After a period of rest, the energy of corpse or seed returned in one form or another. From death came more life. We loved the earth because of the joy and good times and peace of mind to be had in loving it. We didn’t have to be ‘saved’ from it. We never plotted escapes to Heaven. We weren’t afraid of death because we adhered to nature and its cycles. In nature we observed that death is an inseparable part of life. . . .

"We even figured out, in our funky way, how the sun and moon and stars fit into the process. We didn’t draw distinctions between the generative activity of seeds and the procreative cycles of animals. We observed that growth and change were essential to everything in life, and since we dug life, when it came time to satisfy our inner needs we naturally enough based our religion on the transformations of nature. We were direct about it. Went right to the source. The power to grow and transform was not attributed to abstract spirits – to a magnified ego extension in the sky – but was present in the fecundity of nature. We worshiped the reproductive organs of plants and animals. ‘Cause that’s where the life force lies. . . .

"Life is reproduced from life, while resurrection – the regeneration of seeds, the return in the spring of the leaves that fell in the autumn – is of matter, not of spirit. Unsophisticated? Maybe it’s unsophisticated to venerate mountains and regard rivers as sacred, but as long as we think of our natural environment as holy, then we're gonna respect it and not sell it out or foul it up. Unsophisticated? . . . we had respect even for stones."

More from the Gospel According to
Another Roadside Attraction

Cats for St. Pat's

The Black Cat Naps in Spring Morning Sun
Jan L. Waldron

Sharing the day with St. Patrick:
St. Gertrude of Nivelles ~ Unofficial Patron Saint of Cats
~ Feast Day: March 17 ~

Sharing the patronage of cats:
St. Julian of Norwich ~ Original Crazy Cat Lady
~ Feast Day: May 8 ~

Thanks Steven!

Ethereal Green Steps for St. Patrick's Day

Thanks Anne Marie!

And One More Cat!

Pierrot and the Cat (1889)
by Théophile Steinlen (1859-1923)

Cicero & Caesar

Painting of Young Cicero

The Young Cicero Reading
by Vincenzo Foppa (c.1427–c.1515)

Book & Windowsill

Painting of Young Caesar

Portrait of Julius Caesar Aged 14 (c 1586)
by Sofonisba Anguissola (1530–1625)

On Facebook
The Ides of March

Bust of Cicero
3 January 106 BC – 7 December 43 BC


Bust of Caesar
12 or 13 July 100 BC – 15 March 44 BC

Cicero on Caesar

On Tyranny and Ambition: "The man who maintains that such an ambition is morally right is a madman; for he justifies the destruction of law and liberty and thinks their hideous and detestable suppression glorious."

On Caesar’s Vanity: "When I notice how carefully arranged his hair is and when I watch him adjusting the parting with one finger, I cannot imagine that this man could conceive of such a wicked thing as to destroy the Roman constitution."

On the Danger Caesar Posed: "A traitor within . . . Never has the state been in greater danger, never have disloyal citizens had a better prepared leader."

On Caesar's Actions: "He has waged war without sanction, slaughtering Gaul in violation of every principle of justice, not in service of Rome but in pursuit of personal dominion."

On Caesar's Corruption of the Republic: "How long, O Caesar, shall your madness mock us?"

On Caesar’s Political Appointments: "Don't tell them where the Senate meets, they're likely to show up and think they deserve a seat."

On Traitors: “A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and he carries his banners openly. But the traitor moves among those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the galleys, heard in the very hall of government itself.

"For the traitor appears not a traitor — he speaks in the accents familiar to his victims, and wears their face and their garment, and he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men.

"He rots the soul of a nation — he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of a city — he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to be feared."

"Cicero had something to say about today"

No Kings, No Traitors
Protest March #3 ~ March 28

Halfway Through Lent

The Halfway Point of Lent

Some say
Sunday, March 8

others go with
Sunday, March 15 or Wednesday, March 11

The music of Saint-Preux
is lovely for whichever day you pick --

and perfect for the Vernal Equinox:
Concerto Pour Une Voix

Same goes for these seasonal carols --
Christmasy but not just for Christmas!

P.S.
More on the esteemed pomegranate!

P.S.S.
Same Saint-Preux CD -- different cover!

On ~ Facebook

Home By Another Way

Follow the Star

The Star
up on Lewis Mountain, Virginia,
as seen from my backyard.

As February yields to March, Epiphany has given way to Lent. When that transition came for the Three Magi, what did they do? Realizing that the old paths no longer served their purpose they went home by another way:

"For we have seen his star in the east . . .

When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.

And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.

And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way.

Matthew 2:2, 10 - 12

For a lengthier treatment of this theme,
see essays & gift book
by Barbara Brown Taylor
With a little help from our friends and spiritual advisors, we too will seek -- and hopefully find -- a better way. That's what Lent is all about -- and today we near the halfway point.

As I have said before, Pastor Nadia Bolz - Weber and Architect Duo Dickinson are two of my perpetually reliable sources for inspiration, both during Lent and all year round.

Recently, for example, Dickinson shared an observation that reminded me of an easy - to - remember definition of "God's Will" that I heard long ago: "With our without." That's it. Duo says it this way:

"The idea that any thing can wreck a life
we have been given is the definition of entitlement."

from the essay
"Description is not Creation"
by Duo Dickinson

Three Kings
by Richard Hook ( 1938 - 2010)

Follow the Star

Light: Like a Slowly Opened Gift

Recent Full Moon With Airplane
Charlottesville ~ March 1
Now that it's March, we say goodbye to Standard Time, after a mere 4 1/2 months (November, December, January, February -- and a fraction of March); and hello to 7 1/2 months of Daylight Savings Time (-- the remainder of March; then April, May, June, July, August, September, October).

That means barely 1/3 of the year on Standard; almost 2/3 of the year on Daylight. That means Daylight Time is really our Standard. So lets just stay on Daylight Time all the time, and rename it as Standard. Of course, a lot of citizens -- Donald Trump included -- can't even tell the difference. As The New York Times ponts out, Trump has stupidly called for the elimination of both Daylight Time and Standard Time:

"Trump has called for an end to the biannual time changes, posting on Truth Social in March 2019 that “Making Daylight Saving Time permanent is OK with me!” In December 2024, however, he called daylight saving time “inconvenient, and very costly to our Nation” and said the Republican Party would try to “eliminate” it."

~ from the article "Why Do We Change the Clocks, Anyway?"

Sunrise and sunset, even as they shift, are the only constants. There is no such thing as an "original" time zone, aside from what humans have imposed in their eternal quest for order out of chaos (to put it nicely) or their endless mania for control (to put it less nicely). Changing clocks, “controlling” time. Did you wake up an hour late and miss church this morning? Well, you can make up for it now by reading this excellent meditation on Daylight Time by Duo Dickinson:

"The need to control has meant everything is later today. Somehow light can be “saved” – like life, we say – when light is totally, completely beyond our understanding. As is life’s passing. But we do control the hours we try to put over light, and the scales that we define gravity with – without understanding. Measuring is not knowing, but in ignorance it is all we have. "And we judge based on our creation, not creation. With the dark authority of the idiot. "And today the world is pissed. Fog has rendered light to tone. Air has mass, as does time. "Because it suited some, everyone becomes late. The sun does not care, it’s there when it’s there – and today, is not."

~ from the essay "We Only Control The Hour"

It is indeed true that shifting the time in March is totally unnecessary. As we approach the Vernal Equinox, the sun is already giving us up to three additional minutes of light per day. Why must we hasten what is already occurring naturally, at its own pace? According to The Old Farmer’s Almanac:

"This gain will be minuscule at first, just a matter of seconds a day, but will steadily grow until daily daylight expands by 3 minutes per day in March. The exact amount of brightness gain depends on your location. . . . in most of the lower 48 states, the extra daily sunshine in March is closer to 20 minutes after each week, the most the majority of us ever experience, like a slowly opened gift package."

~ from the article How Much Daylight Do We Gain
After the Winter Solstice?

More Lght & More Facts

The Gradually Increasing Evening Light
Kansas City ~ February 21

March Hare

By Jenny Gregory

March Hare ~ 2025

from Alice in Wonderland
by Lewis Carroll

"Then you should say what you mean,"
the March Hare went on.

"I do," Alice hastily replied;
"at least--at least I mean what I say
--that's the same thing, you know."

"Not the same thing a bit!" said the Hatter.

"You might just as well say
that 'I see what I eat'
is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!"

"You might just as well say,"
added the March Hare,
"that 'I like what I get'
is the same thing as 'I get what I like'!"

"You might just as well say,"
added the Dormouse,
who seemed to be talking in his sleep,
"that 'I breathe when I sleep'
is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe'!"

Winter Woods by Bex Parkin

March Deer ~ Epiphany

Previous March Posts

Forever Stamp

As John Cheever (1912 - 1982) once said:
"I dream that my face appears on a postage stamp."

Betty White (1922 - 2021)

Meryl Streep (b 1949)

Okay, Meryl and I have yet to be featured on a
Forever Stamp -- but we used the app
on our headshots to look like the new Betty Stamp!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In hopes of a better world to come,
here is an amazing poem about
racism, sexism, and a woman on a postage stamp.
Give me Betty White anyday --
and so many more, all stripes and colors!

Stamps

Back when I was nearly blameless and could visit the zoo
and admire the tigers not for what they actually were,
but as monstrous man-eaters that deserved to be caught.
Back when I thought I had already tasted life's worst
disappointment, because I'd fallen in love right after college
and it hadn't worked out. Back when every attractive man—
gay or straight, it didn't matter yet—getting off the bus
caught my eye, I was a Republican. And I went to work
in Washington D.C., and met all the suited villains
I'd been warned about. Still reading about Goldwater's
conscience. Thrilled by the idea of bombs. Strangling
themselves in Limbaugh's neckties. Certain our own
country needed to stage a coup. (Clinton in the White House
doing what Clinton did.) One day, I set off to buy
a thousand dollars worth of stamps. The stuffing
of envelopes would soon follow. The best way to get
money is to send a letter and ask for it, they said. Halfway
to the post office, a breathless boy chased me down.
Red-faced. Panicked. His dizzying tie swung over his shoulder.
He told me what my boss had forgotten to say. We can't
use stamps with women or black people on them. The world
toppled me that day in a business park—so young
and dumb—I left in an instant to become who I really am.

By Kristen Tracy

P.S.
~ March First ~
Rolls Round Again

Superb Owls

Silver Coin ~ 5th Century Greece
449-413 BC ~ Tetradrachm Athenian Owl

It turns out that owls are not just for coins
and full moons,
they are also for football:
you say Super Bowl; I say Superb Owl!

A year ago, I learned of the relatively
new and delightful tradition of celebrating
the Super Bowl with a Superb Owl -- or two.

Time to reshare my favorite poem
containing the word superb:
"Summons" by Robert Francis

& repost

my favorite owl poem . . .

If the Owl Calls Again
at dusk
from the island in the river,
and it's not too cold,

I'll wait for the moon
to rise,
then take wing and glide
to meet him.

We will not speak,
but hooded against the frost
soar above
the alder flats, searching
with tawny eyes.

And then we'll sit
in the shadowy spruce
and pick the bones
of careless mice,

while the long moon drifts
toward Asia
and the river mutters
in its icy bed.

And when the morning climbs
the limbs
we'll part without a sound,

fulfilled, floating
homeward as
the cold world awakens.

poem by John Haines (1924 - 2011)
American poet and professor
Poet Laureate of Alaska, 1969 - 1973

Find both "If the Owl Calls Again" & "Listening in October"
in Haine's collection: The Owl in the Mask of the Dreamer

Rest in Peace John Keats

John Keats
Born on All Hallows Eve: October 31, 1795
Died on this day: 23 February 1821

Portrayed here by Ben Whishaw
with Abbie Cornish as Fanny Brawne
in the biopic Bright Star (like the sonnet, 1819)

In a slightly earlier sonnet (1818),
Keats describes what, sadly, will become
the truth of his life, cut short by illness:

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance . . .

Previous blog posts: FN / QK

Most recently:
"Half in love with easeful Death"
&
Sitting Down to Read Keats

~~~~~

Click to read what other poets
have written about Keats!