Sharani

Wouldn’t it be great if instead of the latest tragedies, the local news headlines focused on the local sightings of baby swans, ducks and geese during the month of May? And when passing showers proliferate, the weather could offer the chance of rainbows during Spring in New England? The cuteness quotient could not be higher at this time of year. Every May around Memorial Day I can usually find cygnets, ducklings and goslings in area ponds and rivers in Rhode Island and Southeastern Massachusetts.
This year I explored the Buttonwood Park pond in New Bedford, MA. where there is also a zoo. In two visits to the park, I have seen two families of Canada Geese - one has older goslings than the other. There is a family of swans with two cygnets. One Mallard duck family has six babies and another has one baby. It’s all happening at the pond.

Yesterday at the park, dark rain clouds dotted the canvas of blue skies with white clouds. A passing shower found me taking shelter under the canopy of a tree’s branches and I was on high alert for a rainbow but I did not see one. Nature’s beauty was hardly tarnished by its absence. The abundance of water fowl parading their children across the pond served up a heady dose of cuteness and charm all by themselves. Families with children reaching out to give bits of bread to the ducks was equally adorable. I flashed back to my own childhood trips to Kensington Park in Michigan to feed the ducks.

As May fades into summer, I bid it a fond adieu. It is definitely one of the best months in New England.

“Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
Teaching barren moors to smile,
Painting pictures mile on mile,
Holds a cup of cowslip wreaths
Whence a smokeless incense breathes…

Where shall we keep the holiday,
And duly greet the entering May?
Too strait and low our cottage doors,
And all unmeet our carpet floors;
Nor spacious court, nor monarch’s hall,
Suffice to hold the festival.
Up and away! where haughty woods
Front the liberated floods:
We will climb the broad-backed hills,
Hear the uproar of their joy…”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, May Day

Everything that slows us down and forces patience,
everything that sets
us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help.
Gardening is an instrument of grace.
- May Sarton

Shortly after I bought my first home, flush with newness and enthusiasm, I planted an abundance of flower bulbs - tulip, crocus, daffodils. I added bone meal to deter squirrels from eating the bulbs and waited for the wonder of spring color the following year. To my dismay, the only flowers that bloomed from that massive planting were the daffodils. This novice gardener asked around and learned that the squirrels don’t like daffodil bulbs but that they surely ate the tulips and crocus. I was pretty dejected and my future gardening projects mostly were annuals or perennials added as an already existing plant rather than a bulb.

For at least the next seven years, I never tried to plant additional bulbs. Last Fall, I decided to research if there might not be some little-known remedy to deter squirrels from eating flower bulbs and again nearly gave up when most of what I read on the Internet declared it a truly lost cause.

With a tenacity to somehow persevere and make it happen, I finally found a site that said if you wait and plant the flower bulbs in December just before the ground freezes that the squirrels have finished their major foraging period and are not actively seeking out food.

Mother Nature and my own gardening laziness conspired together in this regard. Decembers have been relatively mild in New England the last couple of years and I’m so busy that I do not automatically think to complete gardening chores in a timely fashion. So in mid-December, I easily dug up dirt and planted tulip and crocus bulbs.

Eureka! It worked. This spring I have tulips and crocus pretty much everywhere I planted them. I am giddy with tulip mania - maybe some of it rubbed off on me when I went to Turkey last year. Tulips are the national flower of Turkey and they were revered there long before they came to Holland.

Or maybe I am harkening back to growing up in Michigan with its own renowned tulip festivals in Holland, Michigan.

Regardless of the influence, I am so delighted that I did not give up in my quest to have tulips and crocus bloom in my yard. I am camera happy to take their portraits. This post is scattered with the results of said shutterbugging.

So if you are trying to keep squirrels from ravaging your flower bulbs, take my success story to heart. Plant them late, never give up and you too will find the perseverance of tulips is possible.

Quotes from Sri Chinmoy on this theme:

Inside each one of us is a beautiful flower garden.
This is the garden of the soul. With each lesson
we learn, the garden grows. As we learn together,
our individual gardens form a tranquil paradise.
- Sri Chinmoy

God’s favourite season is spring, when new hope, new life and new creation dawn. What God always wants from Himself is transcendence. This He can do only when He exercises new hope, new life and new creation constantly.
- Sri Chinmoy

The bridge over the Padanaram Harbor in Dartmouth, Massachusetts was closed and the bridgekeeper was motioning cars to go around rather than wait. I was on a dinner break from work and in the spirit of seizing the moment decided to visit the Daffodil Reserve owned by the town’s Department of Natural Resources Trust. I was bound and determined to still take this field trip and get back to work in one hour flat. So I dashed off down the road through the scenic and quaint environs of New England coastal charm.

Flowering trees serenaded my eyes. Tulips and daffodils were blooming in yards. Leaves were almost budding on trees. I was treated to Spring in all its glory as I drove to Parson’s Reserve on the edge of the Russells Mills national historic district in Dartmouth. I lost some precious time not taking the bridge over the harbor but still managed to make a short pilgrimage to the daffodil field at the top of a hill and at the end of a path through the woods.

Last year I visited the daffodils for the first time and was sorely lamenting that this year’s blooming coincided with me being sick and not up to making field trips through the woods. I knew that the daffodils would be finished soon and as quickly as my health permitted, I made a beeline to this vista.

A field of flowers as far as the eye can see is a heady bouquet for the heart to savor. Even a short visit enchanted me and I marvel at the enduring quality of cheerfulness and sunshine embodied in this flower family.

William Wordsworth wrote a famous poem about daffodils in 1804. It expresses perfectly the sentiment found in feasting upon Dartmouth’s daffodil field in full blossom.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
-William Wordsworth

While I waited for an April 1st election to determine the continued existence of my public library job for the last 14 years, I employed every possible way known to me to help minimize my undeniable stress and anxiety about my job. I spent more time than ever in meditative practise and keenly felt my meditation teacher Sri Chinmoy helping me inwardly. I tried to remain detached yet proactive if I needed to spring into gear for a new job and possibly even a new career.

Somewhat prone to worry in spite of my best intentions, one night I fitfully fell asleep only to then dream of powerful soothing guidance as I was surrounded by flowers - especially white hydrangea- which I later learned could be found in abundance lately at the Sri Chinmoy Centre meditation grounds I frequent in New York.

The big surprise in this dream, however, was that I heard I should drink lavender tea to calm my nerves. I woke up slightly puzzled. I certainly had heard of lavender’s properties for reducing stress and anxiety, but I had never heard of drinking lavender flowers. Was there really such a thing as lavender tea? Quick Internet research showed me it certainly is also drunk as tea. Gail Kavanagh explains that “Drunk as a tea, lavender is a natural treatment for anxiety and headaches” in her article The Healing Powers of Lavender at DoItYourself.com. Lavender contains many healing properties and was widely used in the Middle Ages for medicinal purposes. Lavender has antiseptic properties, aids in healing of scar tissue, soothes bites and burns, repels insects (used to ward off the plague in the 1600’s), aids sleep and is anti-depressive.

Excited to take this prescription for calm that I received in a dream to heart, now I just had to find lavender tea. I succeeded in buying two teas that included lavender in them at a local supermarket that includes a large natural foods and specialty item selection.

One organic spearmint lavender tea that lived up to its name “Charm” from Treleela contained a very clever tea bag that opens up and rests on the cup in such a manner that it is as if the tea is infused as loose leaves instead of in a traditional tea bag. The company is based in Chicago but the tea is grown in the Himalayas in India. Here is a picture of the tea bag inside a Jharna-Kala mug inspired by Sri Chinmoy’s artwork.

I am indeed a newfound fan of lavender tea and everything lavender scented. When the lavender growing in my yard blooms this summer, I will view it with a renewed sense of appreciation and respect. Lavender’s healing properties have been used for centuries and I salute the power of this tiny flower. And I am humbly grateful that the powers of spirit intervened in my life in such a detailed and loving way - like a kindly Grandmother - telling me to drink a hot cup of herbal tea to infuse my life with greater happiness.

I am particularly fond of the song by folksinger Bill Staines called
All God’s Critters Got a Place in the Choir. The lyrics are:

All God’s critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

Listen to the bass, it’s the one on the bottom
Where the bullfrog croaks and the hippopotamus
Moans and groans with a big to-do
The old cow just goes MOOOOO

The dog and the cat pick up the middle
While the honey bee hums and the cricket fiddles
The donkey brays and the pony neighs
And the old coyote howls

All God’s critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

Listen to the top where the little birds sing
On the melody with the high note ringing
The hoot owl hollars over everything
And the jaybird disagrees

Singin’ in the night-time, singin’ in the day
Little duck quacks, and he’s on his way
The possum ain’t got much to say
And the porcupine talks to himself

All God’s critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

It’s a simple song of livin’ sung everywhere
By the ox and the fox and the grizzly bear
Grumpy alligator and the hawks above
Sly raccoon and the turtle dove.

All God’s critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low, some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
And some just clap their hands, or paws
Or anything they got.

Here you can watch a video of a performance of it by the children’s singer/performer Red Grammer.

The philosophy in this song’s lyrics were never more true than during a week-long memorial vigil after Sri Chinmoy’s passing. The praying mantis photographs shared here were taken by me while sharing in these memorial activities. During the entire time I spent in Queens, NY for the wake, memorial service and burial of spiritual leader Sri Chinmoy, this particular praying mantis stayed nearby. It was as if the insect world joined us in paying respects to this revered spiritual figure.There is much lore concerning this insect. Insectlore.com’s entry on the praying mantis states,

“Mantises are famous in many cultures. In some cultures, they are considered holy. Some believe that if you are lost, and you see a mantis, that you should go in the direction it is facing: that will lead you home. Others think that the mantis always ‘prays’ facing Mecca.“

Chinese martial arts movements derive inspiration from the praying mantis and after I saw this one during my sojourn in New York I wrote, “This morning when I folded my hands at my personal shrine to sing the Invocation I felt as if the spirit of the praying mantis was teaching me to yearn for the capacity to keep my hands folded sleeplessly in prayer and gratitude for the glory of God and His Love.”

More photos I took of the praying mantis

Maybe it was the misty morning. A dew stew swirled about. Due to a lingering lack of rain, the fall foliage is a little dull this year. Finally today the misty dew coating the leaves during a morning walk before work added a saturation shot better than a Photoshop edit.

Then again, maybe it was the blush of birthday magic adding an enchanted flavor to my surroundings. My spiritual leanings include a philosophy learned from meditation teacher Sri Chinmoy that one’s soul comes center stage on the anniversary of the day we take incarnation. Indeed, my day would include an extra dose of meditation and contemplation before it drew to a close. Whatever the reason, all I know is that as I walked a mile out and back early in the morning, my ever-familiar surroundings turned into a beckoning adventure.

A few of the trees were turning technicolour and I began an impromptu scavenger hunt to pick up pretty leaves to bring home. Maples are a money-back guarantee of fall beauty but as I walked along my quest evolved into finding as many different kinds of leaves as possible. Species such as oak were old friends but as I honed in on my route through the neighborhood all manner of unfamiliar leaves jumped out at me.

My hands were soon overflowing with various shapes, sizes and colors. How is it possible that I have walked these streets countless times yet never noticed the diversity of trees in such a small radius in relation to my house. I felt almost like a time traveller back to childhood when we had to collect leaves and iron them between waxed paper for science lessons in school. What shall I do with them today I thought? I have to rush off to work in short measure.

With a kind of childlike glee, I decided to arrange them around a flower box sitting on my porch and take their picture. The centerpiece was a smiling rock I keep perched on the flower box. Bravo - a taste of all these jewels captured by a camera in a group portrait.

Like our fingerprints or snowflakes or human souls, no two leaves were completely alike. The uniqueness of each leaf preached a sermon to me about the glories of God’s creation and the specialness of each person’s voice in the choir called life. What a perfect lesson from the universe to ponder on one’s birthday as we humans are as uniquely individual as these diverse leaves I brought home. Spiritual visionary Sri Chinmoy speaks of this uniqueness and its relation to divine unity in his following words,

As you say, each child is unique; this is absolutely true. God’s creation is like a lotus or a rose. Each petal is unique in its own way. Through each individual child God is manifesting Himself in an unprecedented way.

Each child is bringing down a new message from God which was not known before. Naturally, if the world accepts it, the world is getting new light, new power, new joy, new love. So what you are saying, that each child is a miracle, each child is unique, is so true, because God wants to manifest Himself in infinite ways, in infinite forms, in infinite Light. A child is here on earth to show us that God does exist, and God is manifesting through that child.
Excerpt from Four Summit-Height-Melodies by Sri Chinmoy.

This simple task of collecting different species of leaves started my day with an opening paragraph of joy and beauty. Time and again Nature is my teacher and companion. I feel blessed whenever she steps forward to teach me important life lessons. Next time I observe the trees found amongst my midst, I will do well to remember that classic lesson - No two the same yet all are one.

With the Fall Equinox only 2 days away, I shouldn’t be surprised that my habit of taking a daily constitutional (a.k.a walk) at around 7 pm would mean that the sun sets and darkness rises before I finish. Today’s warm summer-like day inspired me to journey on the bike path along the water located only a short distance from my house. Since the sun was setting even as I headed out, I left my camera at home - quite uncharacteristic for me since I love to take photos of nature and birds along this well-worn route, this shot of the moon over the path being one of them.

After staring for a while rather wistfully at the half moon as I walked, the darkness slowly enveloped me and led my thoughts to wander to a recent reference question at work. The patron (a.k.a customer) wanted books on visual and auditory learning. Once I determined that our library catalog used the subject heading “cognitive styles” to tag this subject, I unfortunately determined that we did not have any books particular to that topic. My colleague with more years of reference under his belt than myself took over mid-stream but we did not end up meeting her wish to walk out the door with books related to this topic. I wondered what type of learner I was - visual or auditory and this dusk to darkness transition seemed a metaphor for the visual to auditory shift.

As nighttime caused my visual sense to recede, I spontaneously turned my evening walk into a symphony of sounds. Like a child discovering her environment with newness and awe, I concentrated fiercely to see what sounds surrounded me. It was an eye-opening — or should I say ear-opening — experience to notice just how often I am focused on the visual when I walk on the bike path with all its stimuli of flowers, swans, clouds, marshes and water. Soon my focus swam instead in the chorus of crickets, the cry of a seagull, the wind rustling in the trees around me and the lapping of the waves against the river and marsh banks on each side of me. The shipyard on the other side of the Providence River added the noises of human civilization with its punctuated addition of cargo contents loading and unloading off of large ships. I decided that the auditory sense tends to get neglected when our surroundings offer charming visual feasts. The musicality of the sounds around me seemed just as worthy of attention and the darkness of night provided a shortcut to that particular destination.

The true test will be my vantage point during a daytime walk along the path. On a glorious fall day with a gentle breeze, the tactile sense may crowd in as well when that breeze glides into my heart. Have you ever tried to determine your learning style? Are you a visual, auditory or tactile learner? You might try my experiment and walk through a favorite environment during both day and night and see wherein you find the greatest charm.

One last note - it only seemed fitting that I should write this post while listening to music. I picked another theme song of sorts for this girl on a road. I hit repeat on Itunes and wrote with the song Never-ending Road (Amhrán Duit) from the Ancient Muse CD on playback loop. Loreena McKennitt, another Canadian vocalist genius lyricist and singer, writes/sings:

The road now leads onward
As far as can be
Winding lanes
And hedgerows in threes
By purple mountains
Round every bend
All roads lead to you
There is no journey’s end.

I was looking for a fun outing with a friend of mine from the Sri Chinmoy Centre for the beginning of Labor Day weekend. Living in New England near beautiful vacation destinations such as Newport, Rhode Island and Cape Cod, Massachusetts, we decided against going to some of these familiar haunts. We feared that many others might be trying to enjoy the last weekend of summer before school starts by going to the beach or other popular locations. A day trip to Boston also beckoned but with colleges on the verge of beginning it seemed foolish to go anywhere near Harvard Square, etc.

She asked where I had taken my parents whenever they came to visit from Michigan and Arizona. I thought of Jamestown - a small island between the southern Rhode Island coast and Newport. I said let’s go to Wickford first and then bring a picnic dinner to eat at the Beavertail Lighthouse and Park in Jamestown. Spontaneously I added, “let’s watch the sun set at the lighthouse.”

My friend had never been to Jamestown or the lighthouse and it had been a while since she had visited Wickford so our itinerary was set. Before we knew it, a short half hour drive brought us to Wickford, a town on the ocean’s coast with all the charm and flavor of Martha’s Vineyard or Bristol with many houses bearing historic plaques dating them back to the early 1800’s and cottage gardens spilling over with flowers.

Because I am in seventh heaven when photographing the likes of flowers, butterflies and other aspects of nature, my friend quickly lost me to paparazzi mode in front of a delightful cottage garden of flowers. Then further down the road I encountered a monarch butterfly and bumblebees and finally had to ring my companion up on my mobile phone so she would know where I was - crouched over in front of the monarch for at least 20 minutes.

Once we hooked back up, I finally switched into shopping mode and couldn’t resist some of the sale items at Green Ink where they sell a wonderful line of comfortable linen clothes called “Flax”. I bought this wonderful jacket and after we got frozen hot chocolate drinks at Wickford Gourmet (their brownie was featured on Rachael Ray’s cooking show on television) we were finally ready to drive to the Beavertail Lighthouse.

When we arrived at the lighthouse and its surrounding park, we joined others who had the same idea. People were perched on portable camping chairs and many had their cameras out. As the time for sunset approached, people arrived in droves and sat facing the horizon across the bay where the sun would bid farewell to the day. Most left as soon as it set. When I said let’s watch the sun set in Jamestown at the lighthouse, I was only guessing that this might be a picture perfect spot for a sunset. Boy was my intuition right about that!

We headed home shortly after night fell and marveled that yet again a treasure chest of delights awaits the explorer in the wonderful state of Rhode Island.