Seasons | wordsfromanneli

March 2, 2024
by wordsfromanneli 37 Comments

March

I thought we had escaped the grip of winter by now, but then, this morning, yuck!

March certainly came in like a lion here with a bitter cold wind and then a dump of snow. I’m counting on it to go out like a lamb, hopefully with mild springtime temperatures.

I did some digging and found out that some people think the proverb about March is not so much about weather as it is about the stars.

At the beginning of March, the constellation Leo rises in the eastern sky. Then at the end of March, the constellation Aries (the ram, or perhaps the lamb in its younger days) sets in the west.

Whether it is weather related or has to do with the stars, it’s often safe to assume the weather is better towards the end of March.

Just for fun, here is a timely Knock, Knock joke that you all know.

Knock! Knock!

Who’s there?

Marshall.

Marshall who?

Marshall come in like a lion and go out like a lamb.

January 20, 2024
by wordsfromanneli 37 Comments

A Precious New Day

Photo by Pat Gerrie

Life, the continuous learning curve,

Gives us no warning of what it will serve.

All of us bumble and err on the way,

That’s why we cherish each precious new day.

January 16, 2024
by wordsfromanneli 50 Comments

Red-breasted Sapsucker

Air is cold, I’m shivering,

Legs so skinny, quivering,

Ants or beetles, if you’re near,

Eating you would bring me cheer.

Not much sap is dripping down,

Though I’ve drilled holes all around,

Maybe though, an ant will scurry,

Running off in such a hurry.

I’ve no chocolate to coat it,

Nature simply won’t promote it,

But the crunchy flavour’s good,

With a hint of fir tree wood.

Watch me skipping round the tree,

Eating ants and bugs with glee,

Little holes, the bark endures,

Graciously, my meal ensures.

I apologize for the background noise of dogs barking and garbage trucks backing up somewhere in the world outside my own little world.

January 8, 2024
by wordsfromanneli 49 Comments

A Cold Midnight Visit

Moans and groans that chill the bones,

Through the window stream,

Scents of icy northern zones,

Invade the sleeper’s dreams.

Cold unwelcome guest descends

On the huddled shape,

Shivering, the ice-ghost bends,

Whispers in her nape.

Who has paid the icy fare,

On these crystal flows,

Hitching rides on Arctic air,

Following their nose?

Walruses and polar bear,

Wolves and caribou,

Send their scent along the air,

Via Manitou.

Think of us, they sadly moan,

Swirling round the room,

Dream of us, for now you’ve known

Our cold nights and our gloom.

December 26, 2023
by wordsfromanneli 36 Comments

Being Three

I posted this a few years ago, but I still love it. My niece’s son and his friend are hesitating at the brink of the rink.

Keep in mind that when you’re three years old … things look different.

Are the bundles of clothing your mom makes you wear bulkier and heavier when you’re three?

Is that ice more slippery when you’re three?

Is it harder to “be a man” when you’re three?

Does it take more guts be brave in front of your buddy when you’re three?

Is that skating rink a mile wider when you’re three?

Do bruises from falling on the ice hurt more when you’re three?

Is life more exciting every minute of the day when you’re three?

Yes, yes, YES!

***

Being three and at the rink,

Is way more daunting than you think,

My buddy came to skate with me,

My fear I will not let him see.

The ice is gleaming, threatening,

And yet there’s adults beckoning,

Do they not realize how quick

A boy can fall? Oh, I feel sick.

I’m sure my buddy feels the same,

We’re scared and brave, but don’t feel shame,

If I fall down, it’s no big deal,

My buddy knows just how I feel.

We contemplate, but soon you’ll see,

How brave we are, though only three.

December 1, 2023
by wordsfromanneli 57 Comments

First of December, First Snow

Evening darkens, snow clouds loom,

Heavy grayness hovers,

Every creature, filled with gloom,

Looks for extra covers.

Snowflakes drifting in the breeze,

Flutter to the ground,

Blanketing the dens with ease,

Whiteness all around.

Morning sunlight filters through,

Birds emerge from shrubs,

Now they wonder what to do,

Where are all the grubs?

“Where’s my breakfast?” they all cry,

“How will I stay warm?”

Shivering with cold, they sigh,

This is not the norm.

Robins tweet their invitations,

Gathering for flight,

Needing lower elevations,

Snow-free woods in sight.

Holly berries, mountain ash,

Worms and bugs to eat,

Having fled the winter’s lash,

Birds escape defeat.

Though it’s pretty, snow reminds,

How cold it will be,

Warm vacation, I must find,

Lovely sun and sea.

Meanwhile Emma snuggles in,

Fuzzy blanket warm,

Softly curled up to her chin,

“Now bring on the storm.”

November 18, 2023
by wordsfromanneli 28 Comments

The Fate of Trees

Montana is proud of its cottonwood trees,

So tough when the weather is bold,

Steady, prevailing, along comes the breeze,

It brings northern winds and the cold.

The trunks with their lumpy bark, stem the wild winds,

The texture adds warmth to the trees,

Though winter has threatened, the sun soon rescinds

The sentence the north wind decrees.

A lonely fatality, victim of spray,

Was covered with poison by chance,

Its skeleton stands, to remind us, each day,

Its beauty was all in our hands.

The dam in its cruelty drowned every tree,

The water rose into their crown,

Decay and slow death in the newly made sea,

Leave once noble sticks breaking down.

The nuthatch is happy to drill a new nest,

Admiring a tree with such soul,

She praises the tree and says, “You are the best,

Not just a utility pole.”

As evening approaches, the cottonwoods sigh,

And whisper with shivery leaves,

The autumn is golden, but soon by and by,

They’ll run out of short-term reprieves.

November 10, 2023
by wordsfromanneli 56 Comments

When I was a young girl, and had finished elementary school, I had to go to a school closer to downtown to attend junior high. I used to love walking home from there, past a traditional neighbourhood like this one with its huge, well-established trees.

It was different from my own neighbourhood where newcomers had built their homes on the outskirts of town, without even a proper street in place yet. Our house was reached by following tire tracks in a grassy field. Much later the roads were built, and eventually the town even put in ditching to redirect spring meltwater that had been running over the road and into everyone’s basement each year.

But closer to downtown, the homes had been there long enough for large trees to grow and add a stately touch to the neighbourhood. Sidewalks were a luxury. We had none yet. I felt as if I were walking through one of the stories in my grade three reader, where people lived in perfect suburbs – the kind every middle class family could be proud of in the 1960s.

The yards were untidy enough to be something close to natural, but not wild and messy with garbage. Safe enough for a person to go for a run without fear of being mugged.

Back then, people were not afraid of being hit on the head or stabbed or shot when they went into town to do their shopping. The worst thing that happened was that someone went up our street at three in the morning stealing the milk money from the empty bottles everyone put out for the milkman each day.

Most townspeople had never heard of home invasions. Many of the houses didn’t even have a lock on their door. We didn’t.

Can you even imagine that?!

Back then, I would have loved to live in a neighbourhood like the one in the photo above.

Of course we have more modern houses now with all the special gadgets and electronics to run our appliances and Internet to put us in touch with the whole rest of the world, but I wonder if I wouldn’t be tempted to give it all up to have the laidback lifestyle of those days back again.

How about you? Are there aspects of those more gentle days that you wish we had been able to keep?