Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Goodbye Summer...

"I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips." ~Violette Leduc.


Oh, but we must offer our proper farewells to Summer.  The month of August is leaving us; gently, almost imperceptible, like a dream it glides away lending us a final vision of preceding beauties. Somehow, the month of August is the epitome of summer, and as the month comes to an end, so does summer in my heart.  And we see it vanished in the maelstrom of time like the vaporous veil of a ghost living earth.


Feeling ridiculous and happy, feeling free in my soul... to do what I want, to be who I am.  I have forgiven I have forgotten I am a living leaf swirling in summer breezes to the tune of God's rhythms.  I am not concern about what others may think of me, or feel about me.  I will walk straight, I will dance in my garden. There's a jiggle in my inner thighs when I walk, my arms are flaccid, and my hips too wide, but my body does so much for me everyday.  I don't need fixes.  I am who I am.  I am peculiar, a bit of a hermit a bit of an extrovert, I am a complex dream and the warmth of my home. What else can my soul ask for?
A video posted by @gypsycielo on
I see subtle changes taking place in Nature... autumn is about to fling its rainbow-tints of beauty on my garden... changes are almost imperceptible to the unaccustomed eye, but obvious to the understood.     

Our little white cottage is a jewel to the passing; a thing of beauty resting at the bottom of the hill, and it feels cozy surrounded by nature and greens adorning its front porch.  I have this lovely vine growing there this year that has offered so much charm and joy.  A friend gifted me some of her seeds last winter and I planted them early in the spring without knowing what to expect.... I was not disappointed.


Early morning sunshine, what a blessing...







I so love our little white cottage!
A gift to my heart from the Keeper of my heart.  


The other morning while out there jogging, I suddenly saw something that brought much joy to my heart... a white flash, a lighting of the purest and lovely white fur.  Winter?


My heart skipped a bit...  I could not believed what I was seeing, but yes, it was a white cat... my dear Winter?  I could not tell whether this cat was my dear old friend Winter, whom I haven't seen since last winter.  The beautiful white fur was the same, not a speck on it, and the same lovely, sweet bluest of eyes, but this cat wasn't afraid of me, and came to me when I called him, whilst Winter was a feral and never got too close to me.  It was like a dear, lovely vision, and I kept my journey skipping in my joyful little heart round our neighborhood... 


Oh do tell me... do you think he may be Winter?  Here's a photo of Winter:


I so love him... and miss him.  That same day I went to two animal shelters looking for a white kitten to adopt, but didn't find any...  I go by that same house every morning on my jog, but haven't seen him again... I'm hoping I will see him again in my garden soon...


And what's happening in your little world?  Anything new, special?  I hope the new month brings you peace, and love, and many many happy days...






Sunday, August 28, 2016

Camping in the heat of August

Unless you are a gypsy at heart or more accurately, a pseudo-gypsy who loves Nature up to the point of fainting, then if you live in the south, don't ever never ever go camping in the summer... k?  Just saying ;)  


When we moved south two years ago we had this idealized idea that camping here was just like camping up north, where we had done it all of our lives and where summers are the best time of year for such endeavors.  We were so used to that, that we didn't realize how things can change in a different atmosphere.  But after that first camping experience in the heat of August two years ago (you can read all about it HERE, if you'd like), we soon learned that things are very much different in the south, and swore never ever to go camping again in the summer... that's, until this weekend. Hehe!


You see, someone had told my husband the Fisherman of this magical gypsy camp place where fishes abound and practically wait placidly by the riverbanks to be caught.  And thus... you just know how it goes... he made reservations without telling me. And of course, I didn't want to spoil his enthusiasm. So I went along, and not even once said anything about our old promise... of summer, and of the relentless summer days in the south, or of being a gypsy at the wrong time of the year, and such...  


It was a beautiful place indeed.  Heat and humidity steamed out of the earth like lava coming out of some strange volcano.  Fishes didn't want to bite, and the camp was quiet and swarming with ants and then some more... 


The surroundings were fantastic... and as beautiful as a painting in soft aquarelle



Around mid-day we cooked our lunch, and later ate it in a groggily state... the fisherman washed the dishes and I dried them up.  We took our books out and read.  We drank sparkling coconut-pineapple Ice, we ate watermelon and kept perspiring some more. We watched the clouds for strange, wild animals and mythological creatures doing whatever they do high above past the tall pines, and went in and out the gypsy caravan like some crepuscular squirrels, getting from tree to tree from tree to the ground... waiting for heat and humidity to subside a bit. 












The gypsy caravan was a cocoon in cheerful colors, veils and velvet.
Baby you got what I need... you got my sunshine.  
Baby you... you got what I need baby you...
and when I'm with you, it is a beautiful world.
It's all I can dream... baby you... you got what I need...
Have you heard that song?


I could have gone swimming, but when the Fisherman went down to the river, I started down the green paths on a nature's hunt all by myself. 'Cause that's just who I am. And thus, I collected some lovely treasures... pinecones and needles, an interesting moss covered twisted twig, and some pebbles and stones that all went to live in my garden.  A bird's feather was found buried among the wildflowers... from which it may have come from among the many?  I had to wonder.  




By that time, my head was already spinning under the heat of the day... spinning spinning... that's when I discovered an ogre encrusted on a tree, and further down some witch's cottage among old tangled roots.  Hello, is anyone there?



It was such a magical day... things did really got better after that... it did, it really did!  But I'll have to stop right here for now, cause my story can linger, and I'm sure you'd not want to read past here... so yeah, I'll come back real soon with a 'second season' of Camping in the heat of August.  How 'bout that! ;)  For now, that's it.  Hope you had fun reading.  And stay tune for more!




Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Late Summer Tales

Ah what I would do to see an owl looking down at our little white cottage from the tall trees in my magical woods, her song drifting in through a quiet window.... dance my soul in thy hope!  Thus far though, I haven't been that lucky yet... but I keep dreaming and hoping, and of course... imagining too!  Can you see her?  ;)


There are some things that in my gut, I know will find their way to me someday.  And I dwell on those magical feelings... believing believing.  I live in the realm of possibility, and the moon never beams without bringing me dreams.  Magical things have come true for me time after time after time... and they always leave me in deep awe, wonderment lifting me up on wings of gratitude.   So I wait.  And one day, yes... I will hear the mysterious hooting call of the owl drifting in through the quiet windows of our little white cottage.


Late summer evenings possess such a special charm.  I go outside to say my goodbyes to the fading day, inhale and hold them in my soul... prayers and praises ascending, ascending, passing up the tallest crowns of trees in a pink haze over the darkening clouds.


I was so happy to see my friend the Swallowtail fluttering about the garden again this morning... I found her sipping the nectar of the morning glories, then saw her soared the warm air, and up she came fluttering about and around me as if saying "Yes, yes it's me, it's me and I'm alive!"


I want to believe this is the same butterfly that appeared in my garden particularly early this year, when we were still going through the last leg of winter.  And I want to believe that she knows me, and knows I'm her friend.  I've never seen such a lovely creature of a butterfly before... almost as big as a Chinese fan, and as beautiful and alive as a miracle in itself.     


The other day, my husband sprayed the gardens in an attempt to save me from mosquitoes, and my friend the Swallowtail was somehow affected by the fumes. Her usual perky demeanor were somewhat sluggish, and she was less active and lively than usual.  And so it was that I was able to bring her inside for a few moments so she could recoup and meet the place where my heart dreams...  she loved it in our little sunny dinning room and fluttered and hovered 'bout and around for a while, until she unearthed the lace curtains on the windows, and found her repose there... 


Later when I thought she was already feeling better I took her outside again, opened the cups of my hands where I carried her, and let her free to disappeared in the density of the woods.  Where she lives, I supposed.  And would I see her again?—I had to wonder.  As I walked away, I looked back twice to see if a beautiful fairy with golden wings and a sparkly dress was waving good-bye from atop a branch.  Of course, she was!

What an amazing feeling it was to feel this small, yet powerful life cupped in the hollow of my hands... like us creatures of the Almighty God when he carries us on his hands and suffers our sorrows and caresses the joys of our hearts when he says 'don't be anxious about anything, live a life of daily dependence upon me... all is in my hand.  Trust me implicitly for the future'...

Seeing this big, beautiful creature today again, what a joy that was!


I am sitting by the table out looking the gardens as I write, and I cannot fully concentrate with this glorious racketing of wings and bird songs outside.  From my peripheral vision I see wings in the purest of yellows of the small butterflies hovering over the crimsoned little trumpet flowers of the Christmas vine.  And a hummingbird couple, as playful as they can be, keep coming to the feeder I have placed outside the window closest of our dinning room.  What an amazing thing it was for God to have thought of hummingbirds when He created our lovely world, don't you think so!  Oh and those roses.... they're in bloom again!



What a beautiful, enchanting place this is!
I love the countryside.  I love my little white cottage
I love sultry summer days and the freedom of hours of leisure to bask in.
I am a blessed soul. 



As summer approaches its end in a frantic whirlpool of days, my mind goes to the woods and the mysteries and enchantment that lay there. So this morning I searched all my drawers for this favorite book, "Secret Life of a Forest", overflowing with insights into all four seasons of the woodland year, and late sat down with it to discover what mysteries are transpiring out there at this time in the season...


Did you know that the favorite food of the grass snake, most often encountered around the borders of woods and hedgerows, are frogs, fish and mice?  I tremble at the thought of it.  And more and more I'm convinced that whatever ate our fishes this spring was a snake... eekk!

Call me crazy, but the other day I felt the first tinge of fall in the air.  It rained all night, and as it usually happens around here after a rainy night, we woke up to an enchanting fog that covered trees and little houses, and bestowed a mysterious vibe to the hilly road outside.  Some of the leaves are already falling, and temperatures have come down quite a bit.  It is still summer, and it will be for sometime, but not much longer.   I will enjoy every bit of it, surround myself in its warmth for as long as I want, and of course, will continue dreaming about my owl... and work on a special magical potion to attract owls too!  Tinkle tinkle joy and wonder bring me an owl from over yonder!  Oh dear me, I do hope a good spell doesn't have to rhyme! ;)   


Wait, do owls drink tea?  Best go find a mouse... quickly! ;) 

Hope you have a magical day today

my friends!