Thursday, October 30, 2014

A Halloween story – a true story with a little twist

Source: Pinterest

Right at the break of dawn the other morning, one of the crow-witches who lives deep in the privet beyond our garden decided to materialize into her human form… I was there to watch it all unfold and I have the remnants of proof from the tales to show you…

The day had scarcely started to awaken, but as usual I was already out in the garden weeding; already singing low in my baritone morning voice, when all of a sudden out of my peripheral vision I saw something… a wind of a diffused shadow; a chill hanging from the air.  I turned around and there she was—a witch all clad in black going up the hill.  

More curious than I should had been frightened, I stopped what I was doing and stood very quiet watching this strange apparition ascend the deserted hilly road across our little white cottage.

When the witch reached the top of the hill, she stood on the middle of the road like a stone of the fields.  No movement.  No sound.  At this point I immediately knew I was up for something big… something of the mystery variety if you know what I mean… so I grabbed my camera, which by the way, I always carry close to me in case something big, small, interesting or just unexpected in the most mundane moment come into my view, and began to stalk the Crow-witch who lives in the Privet.

After a short while, as she still stood on the middle of the road, the demeanor of the witch changed drastically.  I watched her search for something or someone in the nothingness of the new day; turning her body towards the four cardinal points—north, east, south and west.  What followed later I’m still trying to understand. 

Madness got control of her body and features, and she started to make strange expressions and hand gestures, motioning at things, clawing her hands at times towards the sky and finger-pointing at some invisible someone that only she could see. 

I tried to listen from my post to whatever the witch was saying as best as I could, always extra careful not to disturb her, lest she’d see me and ripped me open in a zilch… but for much as I tried, I couldn’t hear a single word coming out of her mouth… only silent words in gestures and madness incomprehensible.

Judging by the witch’s demeanor, gestures and finger pointing, however, I could tell she was livid… furious at someone.  She was a very disturbed soul indeed.  She fumbled and fought.  I watched in total silence.  Only my heart bursting in and out; not wanting to move… but oh I had to!  I had to take a better picture of the witch from a better angle before she would turn into her formal crow self again and with it the magic gone forever.   

I stepped away and run inside as fast and as quietly and I could.  Here and there I hid behind blinds and windows taking pictures.  I traced the witch’s movements as she stood on the road across our master room still fighting with her invisible someone.  But my lenses would not adjust properly and pictures were coming all blurry.  I had to run back into the backyard, where I could see her with no barriers and try again! 

It only took me the few minutes from our bedroom to the garden, but when I got there the witch was nowhere to be found now.  Where did she go?  In total disbelief, I searched for her.  No one. She was nowhere to be seen. I even walked up the hill to see if perhaps she had walked down the road below, but there was no one.  Only the strange chill still hanging from leaves and trees and skies that seem to be saying:  "Strange, unexplainable, mysterious things".

But then again, nothing could be too irrelevant or too strange on a day like this. Magic is everywhere. After all, this is Halloween.  And anything and everything can happen on Halloween.

Ps: The young lady in my story is a real person.  And this is a real story.  Most probably, this young lady is a deaf-mute neighbor down the road from our little cottage who was just going through some difficult times... perhaps with a strict mother or an unfaithful boyfriend?  And maybe she was just venting out that day.  I just twisted the story a little imagining her being a witch because, in a way, she really did reminded me of those rumpus witches of crows residents of the woods beyond our garden… always making such ruckus back there ;)

I decided not to post her picture here out of respect, but I keep a dozen or so of her photographs for my file of  'curiosities'.   Life it surely turns more interesting, creative and quirkier when interpreted in a different way or when seen through a different lens... You'll always see things in a wonderful whimsical way.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

To a friend...

I am dedicating this post in honor to Sandra Dias, from the blog, The Veranda House, a sweet, caring dear soul, a friend and a kindred spirit who I just find out passed away on February 23, 2014 after a long and difficult battle against cancer. 

My heart is sad, and even though I never met Sandra face to face, I felt a special bonding that words cannot express. This is to her:


I live here.
This is my home...
We shall meet for tea under the Magical Tree.
Kindred spirits are always together in spirit,
Let’s get together and feel all right.
But I am here;
you are there:
Two seas,
Five thousand rivers,
One universe apart.
Feeling that in some way we could never explain we’ve met in our dreams.
On our opposite sides of the In-between.
Perhaps if we walked too far and
Wondered loud enough we could somehow get together for tea?
I could look up and find the great Saguaro where you keep your dreams
You could look down and find the sacred hollow where I hide my soul.
But we shall hurry
No time to waste!
At the stroke of midnight
Upon our steps to the Enchanted Forest...
Luminous white and shimmering wings will take us there
Swirling whirling under the moon.
Upon petals so late at night to guide our way by magical lights.
Tip toeing out in forest deep, guiding us while half asleep.
Flitting up and down our dreams,
Reaching out to take our hands…

Cielo Noriega

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

In my cottage

Has it ever happened to you that all of a sudden things in your house start to brake down all at the same time more or less?  That’s exactly what’s going on around here lately.  Thus far, we had have to deal with a leaking pipe in our furnace's plumbing system, something that should had been revealed by the inspector who inspected our little cottage for things like this before us closing on the house, but never happened. Then it was our central heater not starting and then the air conditioning fan making this awful noise until it finally stopped working altogether. We should have seen it coming though, as most appliances and electrical products have fairly predictable life expectancy. And this is not a new home.

When we moved to our little white cottage in the woods we replaced and upgraded all of our kitchen appliances with stainless steel.  Except, for the dish washer.  There was nothing wrong with it other than it was old, and it wasn’t stainless steel and it didn’t match with the rest of the newer appliances.  I bragged about it for a little while until I tried it for the first time and discovered that I’d never had anything as nicer and as high-quality as that old dishwasher.  My dishes and glasses were unbelievably cleaner and shinier than ever.  And because it was a 15 years old model it was so easy to start it too… just a twist of the hand and you’d get it going right away—so not like today’s more modern and complicated appliances with all those buttons and options to chose from all in the tiniest of words you cannot even begin to read before running to go get your glasses… 

That was until the motor of our until now perfect dish washer went kaput on me the other day… how could that be?  I could not believe it. The good thing about this, though, is that now I have an all stainless steel kitchen appliances.  Exactly what I wanted!  Oh yes little heart stay focused on the positives stay focus on the positives stay focused… ;)

I so love my cute tiny kitchen… even when it is hard for both of us to cook in it at the same time for lack of space, and even if it doesn’t have all of the expected commodities, such as a much needed kitchen food waste disposal, or a formal pantry.  We can still manage and have figured out ways to make life easier, and it is still such cute and cozy little kitchen, and I love the cottagey feel to it.

Oh I just want to let you know that I’m working on a little Halloween story for you… a true story may I say, only with an added twist to it for some fun.  So stay tune my friends, daydreamers and readers!

  See you all super soon!

Saturday, October 25, 2014

The magical book

I feel lonesome sometimes.  Loneliness descends upon me like some unholy, dark veil, and I often find myself walking in circles against the small boundaries of my little heart… but that’s just how it is sometimes and my life it really is lived to the fullest, and I’ve been blessed in a million ways. 

Today, we visited a black congregation among our denomination. I was enthralled by their camaraderie, and methodology of worshiping.  How fresh, and spontaneous and totally awesome this old-fashioned gospel praise and worship is… the down-home, head-swaying, hand-clapping, hand-waving and foot-stomping gospel music.  I felt so very close to God.  I truly want to emulate this passion in my worshiping. 

We have established some very warm friendship.  For the soul:  this is good.

The voices of blue Jays and the orange-breasted Robins ring like small high bells in the mid-morning tea-time of the birds. For the ears: this is good.

The sun on the privet and atop the maple trees slash down through the thicket when the wind sway leaves and branches forming a wing-ripple of light on floors and trees and everywhere. For the eyes: this is good. 

Crisp and golden as ripe apples days:  this is good too. 

Butterflies are everywhere—zinnias those magical colorful little jewels attract myriads of butterflies like honey to bees… I love to watch them flutter and dash around me without a care in the world… they must think I’m part of the October landscape.  It is no wonder I am an October child. 

Which reminds me of another October… once, long, long time ago on another autumnal day… a very strange looking old woman, and a magical book.  Which reminds me I owed you a story... and thus I have been visiting HOLLOW WOODS again.  That magical place where I dream.  That's where you'll find your story.     

October it surely is for dreaming and for magical and silly stories and for saying NO and YES and for being as free in spirit as birds are.  So do come visit!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

My day...

It is cold.  We’re having our first frost advice for tonight with temperatures in the mid 30’s at their pick low.  Pitiful… and ridiculous, that still this late in the season I’m going through yet another bout of poison ivy.  My last one, I hope, of the year.  Augrrhh!

My potted ferns are all inside now for the winter; safely tucked under the north and east facing windows…

This morning the house smelled of hazelnut latte and cinnamon buns.  I sat in the warmth of our sun-room made into a dinning-room and watched the birds as they engaged in their morning feast under a pink sky.  Not to mention maple trees and the hickory and oaks thinned and enchanted everywhere, calling you in strange hunting songs, like an old singing women with scrawny crimson arms….

The Privet residence is intricate and full of twists and sinuous bends, and as leaves start to fall down suggesting the colors of oaks and maples, all the little creatures who live there start to come out too… one by one they come—to experiment beyond their own freedom, to seek refuge.

I don’t know which of the two feral cats that have claimed our little white cottage as their own have found a bed in the settee I have in the front porch, but I can tell one of them sleeps there, for I keep finding cat’s hair and dirt on every pillow and cushion I insist on keep washing or replacing.  I suppose this pattern will continue and I might as well get used to the idea of no rewards whatsoever… for I don’t think that neither of these lovely creatures I’m feeding will ever let me pet them.

The last of the winds and rains that passed thru our garden last week knocked down the tall zinnias, which persist on remaining low to the ground.  Do you prune your zinnias at the end of the summer?  Or let them be?

 “Why must people kneel down to pray? 
If I really wanted to pray I’ll tell you what I'd do. 
I'd go out into a great big field all alone 
or in the deep, deep woods 
and I'd look up into the sky—up—up—up—into that lovely blue sky 
that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. 
And then I'd just feel a prayer.” 
(Anne of Green Gables)

Monday, October 20, 2014

From this... to this

Ah those sublime autumn days!  No wonder they’re the stuff of poems and popular songs everywhere.  Balmy days, brisk nights, cozy sweaters, vibrant colors starting to dot the landscape—even our childhood memories are likely to recall an overall theme of fresh starts and clean slates…

This is the reason I'm dancing and welcoming the season of color, pumpkins in the cornfields and leaves of rust and scarlet in the garden.  I’m ready to explore and celebrate the sights, smells, tastes, and sounds of the changing seasons…  In a way, my celebrating is also a way of letting go… letting go of this old season with its hot days and cicada song filled nights.  

I’m offering my goodbyes to happy summer times and summer skies, goodbye to the garden and each small wonder there… each flower, each golden rays of sun and pleasing memories forever kept in the opened palms of my heart.  

I’m dancing… it is my way of saying goodbye and thank you… it is my way of looking around and be at awe at what I see and feel… thankful for each blessing--small and big, in our lives.   It is also my way of following my own autumn-leafed road and be reminded of why I dream and believe and hope.

Now, at the end of this journey throughout the departing, tired season, I look around and I shudder, almost unable to believe what I see, and what I feel and what we have accomplished in such short time… from this wild, desolated barrenness back in March of this year when I first discovered our little white cottage…

To now this...

"Nature does not complete things.  
She is chaotic.  
Man must finish, 
and he does so by making a garden
 and building a wall" 
(Robert Frost)

"Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands" Psalms 100:1-5.

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