The Pink Way of Delight

 In the movie 'Anne of Green Gables', Matthew Cuthbert drives Anne back to Green Gables Farm from the train station in the buggy above. I was always enchanted with this scene from Prince Edward Island, and Anne re-names this 'The White Way of Delight'.

 

About a week ago, I spent some time with my daughter Joy at the Scappoose Inn. On the property was this magnificent row of cherry trees all bloomed out. I immediately named it 'The Pink Way of Delight', and it's the closest I've ever come to one of the romantic scenes from Anne.

 

The darker pink buds were mostly fully in bloom into a light pink/white color. The sky was overcast when we walked through the Pink Way of Delight, which brought out the pink color even more.

 

The wind was beginning to bring down some blossom petals, which just made it all the more enchanting, as they swirled around us. There were a couple of silent llamas in the field next to us, probably wondering about these silly female humans as they munched.

 

A lovely bit of spring to enjoy and savor~ 

For The Time Being...

 

The Ever Now

 



For the time being...this space between...he's old and he's in the hospital.
He's not the four year old, with a new baby sister on his knee, or the eight year old being carried on his dad's shoulders across the newly completed Longview Bridge. He's not the high school and college basketball star, or the 'shined up till it hurts' WWII soldier, with his back straight and head held high.
He's hurting so much he can't hold still.
He's not the young, handsome lover and groom with pride radiating as he gazes upon his bride. He's not the proud father of a brand new son.
But a man between hospital bed bars, watching others move about.
He's not the grief stricken father, burying his first born, and attempting to comfort that same bride beside him. He is no longer the dad, playing ball with his two sons, or teaching them to ride bikes or approach girls. He's not the man who could spot an arrowhead on the desert floor, or fly an airplane through a snow storm.
He is now the 93 year old, sick to his stomach, loopy from pain meds, and wanting that same bride of now 70 years to hold his hand.
For the time being, he's broken and hurting. But we see and know so much more.


Get well soon Dad!
March 19, 2015

And I nibble meagerly at life

There are seldom great mouthfuls of life and

when they come it's with chaos blended, so I

contemplate a peaceful corner and nibble

on a savory morsel, feeding meagerly

at the plate served by God, satisfied at

the small portion I call my life.

 

Jennie