Climate Change

Time Capsule Piece 2023

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March 17, 2023 – St. Patrick’s Day Asheville NC

Red Bird lands atop the garden and tomato stake to view the latest morsels below for a scrumptious breakfast,

Daffodils dot the bank of grass in shades of yellow; while forsythia makes a show

Atop the pond, on a slab of granite, an Angel rests, hand on cheek carefully watching over the fish and fauna below,

It’s an overcast day with clouds gathering the 17th day of March, St. Patrick’s Day, and the grass is green,

With no Winter to speak of in 2023 in the Appalachian Mountains of Western North Carolina, one can’t help but wonder, if we will ever see snow again?

Grateful am I to have a computer and ability to gather my thoughts to articulate what is underneath,

Three years of COVID, Russia at war with Ukraine, Earthquakes in Turkey, Enormous amounts of Snow in the Northern USA, stories of water shortages to come associated with climate changes and a homeless population that continues to grow out of control, increased food, and gasoline prices. We recycle, plant trees, garden, have rain barrels to catch water from the roof to water the garden, pond as needed.

If we didn’t have faith, love, compassion, and a true sense of gratitude for those in our lives and those gifts provided to us by our Creator, we’d go mad.

This is why writing and recording the days, months, seasons or years helps me to put my life into perspective. This is why I am sharing a snippet of what’s good in my backyard and what I know about worldly events.

This piece may wind up in a time capsule at St. Mark’s Lutheran Church to be uncovered in another 100 years.

Know that I am Catholic, a member of St. Eugene’s Parish in Asheville, NC, God willing, I will be 63 in June, I am married to Steve Henry, the Facility Manager of St. Mark’s Lutheran Church and my friend for more than 19 years. I have two children, Richard, and Alicia and three grandchildren, Grayson, Lincoln, and Saylor Marie. My parents are Bob and Peg Adams of Windsor Road, Asheville. My Dad is an amazing Golfer with 20 hole-in-ones, they are both 91+. I have four brothers, Michael, David, Mark, and Richard. My husband Steve has two brothers, Paul and David.

As I close this piece of history, I will add to my picturesque view of the backyard oasis to say that with the Red Bird, Cardinal, Mrs. Cardinal appeared along with a Squirrel, and a Titmouse who are all seeking the black sunflower seeds I placed in a birdfeeder which hangs from the pruned Cherry Tree.

May this snippet of one’s life on this day, St. Patrick’s Day 2023, and the times as I see them, find their way to the hands and hearts of loving Beings who are seeing a world better than what we are experiencing and/or predicted to see.

~ Anita Adams 3/17/2023

Yellow Forsythia in Bloom

Backyard Oasis – Pond, Trees, Chimenea, Pagoda, Light, Angel, St. Christopher, Birds

Yellow Daffodil dripping in Raindrops

Looking for a Word

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It’s cold and damp this February morning in the Appalachia mountains – bluejays, cardinals and squirrels are confused by the signs of a very early Spring – scattered with drops of freezing temperatures.

I, too, feel somewhat confused by the seasons lack of consistency . Winter is a necessary part of nesting, creative percolating – a time that’s been interrupted by an climate change.

Will the Spring come too soon and all be destroyed with the many frosts that should be forthcoming?

The word is a question and question is the word.

Where’s the wind?

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Juliet's Window II

it’ s October, and I’m wearing sandals and short sleeves…

Where’s the wind…

the door’s wide open and there’s no breeze

Where’s the wind….

the trees are asking and so are the leaves…

Where’s the wind…

she asks to lull me to sleep on a warm October’s eve

Silencio…listen…

… crickets and the rumbling of the dishwasher  must do

Anita Adams 10/9/18

 

Sharing Poetry & so much more from Garrison Keillor and The Writer’s Almanac

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It’s a morning ritual for me, to listen to Garrison Keillor and The Writer’s Almanac. There are facts regarding the day, the earth, and ends in a poem. Select the listen online option. This day was full of amazing facts.

♥ Anita

 

The Writer's AlmanacAmerican Public Media
Thursday, May 11, 2017 Facebook   Twitter
To the Woman at the Retirement Center
by Phebe Hanson

Listen Online

You tell me when you were eight, newly arrived
from Czechoslovakia, your teacher made you memorize
a poem that began “I remember, I remember
the house where I was born.” Stranger
to our language you proudly learned all the verses,
practiced them over and over in front of your mirror,
but at the program when you stood to recite
in front of all the parents and other students,
you got as far as “I remember, I remember,”
and forgot all the rest and had to sit down shamefaced.

Now you live in this ten-story retirement center
where you cried most of the first month, so lonesome
for your son, transferred to another city, who couldn’t
take you with him because his new house wasn’t
big enough. Sometimes, you tell me, you slip away
from the recreation director who wants to teach you
how to turn plastic bleach bottles into bird feeders,
sneak up to your room, turn on the Bohemian radio station,
dance barefoot all by yourself, as you used to

years ago in the house where you were born.
“To the Woman at the Retirement Center” by Phebe Hanson from Why Still Dance. © Nodin Press, 2003. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)