Monday, July 16, 2012

plink plunk

Despite the heat, there was much adventuring from our "bit of earth" this weekend! The place was just as I love to imagine it...a gathering place for friends and family and a jumping off place for everyone, too. 
Lindsey, on my/her rehabbed vintage 10 speed, and her buddy Emily on her even more vintage Robin Hood 3 speed English bike did the 25 mile loop of the Islands Bike Tour. Hannah and Gretta lent support with the chase car (the Batmobile). They came home in the late afternoon with bags of local, fresh produce and a bottle from Snow Farm Winery. We enjoyed a fabulous supper...couldn't decide which was better...the food or the company. 

On Sunday morning we enjoyed buttermilk pancakes sprinkled with the first of our very own blueberries. I took Gretta back to camp, Batman and Hannah went for a paddle in the canoe and the two biker girls stretched their weary legs with a walk on the road. By late Sunday afternoon the house regained it's post-weekend quietness. That emptiness makes me sad and content at the same time. 

In the early evening, Hannah and I drove up and over the Rochester Gap, to the Big Town Gallery where we heard Tracy K Smith, the 2012 Pulitzer Prize winner for poetry read from her newest collection, Life on Mars. We were nestled in the gallery, set up with ancient wooden folding chairs, and a gentle drizzle coming down outside. What a blessing it was to sit quietly and let Tracy's lyrical words soak into us. Her work is brilliant, honest and deeply human. For me, poetry is magically different than any other form of written word, and I find deep comfort in it...even the tough stuff.

There had been a bit of overnight rain up here, but not nearly enough. I woke to this view this morning, with the mists nestled in the valleys. When we bought the place five years ago, the man we bought it from said, "It's beautiful up here every day of the year".  That's turned out to be the absolute truth.
As I walked out into the wet morning to pick some berries for my breakfast, I was reminded of Blueberries for Sal, one of the best books ever. The water dripping off the metal roof of the shed, the morning song of the birds, the smell of freshly mown hay and the plink plunk of the blueberries dropping into the bowl reminded me of how perfect the present moment can be. Sometimes it is all we need.

6 comments:

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  2. What a beautiful weekend:) I love your early morning view. We had a bit of rain here over the weekend too; it was a pleasant respite!

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  3. I'm absorbing contentment through your words!

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  4. Thanks for reminding me of Blueberries for Sal. I must pull it out of the trunk full of things I've saved for the grand-child I often thought I'd never have (but who is now 15 months old and discovering books in a big way).

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  5. I feel a quietness and contentment just reading your words, Karen. And the image of being at a poetry reading, sitting on "ancient chairs" and listening to a "gentle drizzle" coming down outside is one I'll have in my head for a long time. Not to mention that view with mists in the valley...

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