Before the Plunge

This will be a quiet week. Next week, and the one after, will be days of busyness and fun at the big family reunion and following cousin time. We get to leave early in the morning, which is my favourite time (it builds excitement) and me and Ladybird won't come back until two weeks later, by train. I'm so excited to see my family again, visit nostalgia haunts and enjoy all our treasured pastimes together.
I'm resting in quietude this week before the plunge. I've had a quiet home day complete with a long nap and a chance to nature journal after me and Dad finished our Monday night push-ups. The woods was dappled with rich white light that caught in the spindly fir boughs and made them look like lace. It illuminated the wings of the little moths, and they flitted around, fairly-like, among the sunlit curtains. Woodland birds made soft, sweet music that mingled with their back-up instrumentalists--the droning insects. I wrote a letter to one of my cousins (who I will see next week!) and told her that I couldn't wait to meet at the Quail's Nest. Even in the midst of this peaceful lull I am beginning to burn with excitement. I especially look forward to breakfast at Cousins Restaurant on the drive there :-)

Beach Day + drive-in + a regular Saturday

Newport was sunny and not too cold yesterday. We rarely have fine weather on our beach trips, but this was decidedly fine weather. We had a picnic up in the park, then walked down onto the shore where we spent a few wonderful hours.

After we got home from the beach I took a quick shower before leaving again for the drive-in with my older brother and sister. He was watching the movies with his college friends, Elaina was meeting there with friends before a sleepover, and I found my high-school friends who were there. I enjoyed Despicable Me 2 and most of Man of Steel, and then I fell asleep. I set a record last night: I've never been out past midnight before (we came home around 3 this morning).

I woke up at around 8:30 and made myself get up because I knew I wouldn't want to run later when it got too warm out. I'm working up to 6.7 miles for this Crater Lake run in August and this morning I did 6--so close now! Since then I've had a wonderful, relaxing day full of puttering around getting chores done, plus an hour long nap to make up for a little of my late night. I'm going to bed early today, so I'll be all back to normal tomorrow. 

P.S. I apologize for the odd photo organization. I still haven't learned to use blogger very well.

Changing Perspective

Many past Independence Days have found my thoughts very pessimistic. You see, I couldn't think about American freedom without immediately picturing an obese elderly couple wasting their days in front of the TV, with chips and pop always on the couch next to them; when I thought about fireworks I thought about air pollution and dirty rain (these thought processes are probably the only negative result of being a health and nature maniac!). In moderation, its not a bad thing to consider the faults of the standard life, but I'm pretty sure I was obsessing over it a little bit, particularly on holidays.
For the past year I've been training myself to think a bit differently, to look at all this from a more positive angle. Throughout the school year I studied U.S. history in depth as my theme in literature. I read through a course called The History of US which is a very good eleven books explaining the United States' past as far as it is recorded (along with some educated guesses regarding the first people here and their lifestyle). I developed an appreciation for this country which I had never experienced before, and which I hope will continue to grow.
In spite of its many shortcomings, this home country of mine has grown very much since its beginning. I'm so glad that we reached freedom and opened our doors to whoever else wished to participate in it as well. I'm proud that we gained liberty (although I often question our decision to take over Hawaii later on: doesn't that cut against the grain of our foundation? After all, we were built upon freedom and independence from unwanted government--it seems that we could have shown some patience with the desires of another people). I'm excited to be a part of this country that held itself together during the civil war. I'm not devoid of shame though: shame for our mistakes in withholding freedom from those who, by right of their humanity, deserved it as equally as any, and shame for some very foolish decisions we've made in times of war and times of peace. We've acted cruelly in the past and in many ways we have suffered for it. However, as a result of these mistakes and failures, the U.S. has gained some knowledge about the healthy running of a country. We are not there yet, and perhaps we never will, but I can taste and see a tiny bit of the goodness you might find in the ideal community. I'm choosing now to look at the big picture of my country, and in this picture, along with the descending sorrows, I see much growth. Looking back throughout our history I can see a slender, ascending trail that is the progression of positive growth and noble goals reached in the United States. It is for this climbing pathway of hope and wholesome goodness that I will joyfully celebrate today. I will delight in the fireworks.

A poem written in yesterday's twilight

Time to Notice

Gaze with me at that little rabbit

and at Chesterton, poised to chase it.

Look at the unique color of the air:

it's glowing with a dim, warm glow.

Stop for just a few minutes, to glance

around at the firs silhouetted against

the sunset--a pool of smooth colors.

Listen, since you're here now, to

the thump of the rabbit retreating.

Do your ears catch all the mingling

bird calls and insect drones?

Don't they ever ache with strange

nostalgia at the sound of cars

cruising down a far-off highway?

What about the fireworks tonight?

do you hear those?

Since your ears are open now, and

you can see that rose-light on the oak limbs,

maybe you will feel the warmth in the air.

There is the gentlest, most unobtrusive breeze

flirting with the fronded meadow grass

and sugar-white daisies and my hair.

It's July 1st, after all. Its time to notice

this summer that won't last forever.

Faerynn M.

A morning bird watch

It was 6:24 when I woke up and looked at the alarm clock on our windowsill (turned off, of course, for a leisurely Monday morning in summer). I smiled at the memory of my random, crazy dream and then curled back into delicious sleep. At 7 I awoke again, but this time I only laid there thinking. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, I sat up, did a cat stretch and my allotted crunches (I'm working up to doing 250!) and gathered my Bible, prayer journal and Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm into my blue bamboo book bag (incredible alliteration, right?). Then I set off, full pitcher in hand, to my Bird Sanctuary just down the slope behind Hilltop Manor.
It was balmy out, and there were sun-dapples and shady places in abundance in the Sunrise Woods and The Meadow. There was just the slightest stirring of a breeze in the air, and the scent of July 1st clung to everything. When I got to my sanctuary, I tried to quietly refill the bird baths with the bright, beady eyes of a chestnut-backed chickadee watching me (these friendly little birds are still somewhat wary of me, though I am familiar to them and they almost never fly off when I come). Then I scampered up into the Climbing Tree to have my Quiet Hour and enjoy the birds. I saw some yellow warblers and a sharp-shinned hawk. I read a few chapters from Numbers and some of Rebecca, but mostly I simply rested there and let all the peace sink in. I've been watching the cherries ripen on the tree by my sanctuary: this morning they looked jewel red and almost ready for picking. I tried to memorize the unique calls of the warblers and chickadees (I usually recognize them when I hear them, but can never think of them in my head afterwards). I went breathless with excitement when the hawk flew past with a remarkably quiet, though powerful,  wing beat and perched on one of the nearby limbs of the maple tree. The chickadees went ominously silent at his arrival, but my stillness was the product of pure, wondering awe at the elegant creature so close at hand. He was amazing.

When the days get warm

I like to come home from Church and drink water. Lots of very cold, cold water that compliments the beach-blue geometric print on my Mexico dress.Then I go up to the Glow-light room I share with Ladybird and I listen to the coldest music I can find (something instrumental, with lots of space in the melodies) and I lie on my bed.
I could stay there for a long time, probably, but most often I get up after about 15 minutes and clean the room and twist my hair up into a bun where it will do me the least damage (heat-wise). Then I come down here, where the family has probably gathered, and help Mama prepare our Sunday lunch. I'm looking forward to cold watermelon and cold pasta salad, and more cold water.
Why do I love summer so much when it keeps me in here much of the day, relishing what cold things I can find? Probably because it is pure nostalgia for me, and I finally have an excuse for my watermelon addiction.

In Comes Summer

I finished my freshmen year approximately 3 weeks ago. This may not have been my opinion for every day of the past school year, but I think that it was my favorite year over all. So much learning and doing and discovering new things! I found that there are some fun new things to enjoy doing, but that many more old things (things at home with family or outside, which I have enjoyed for as long as I can remember) which are even more worthwhile and so very wonderful! And now that I realized this, my summer break is looking far up and out (I'm really not sure if I can see a horizon at all)!
The past week we have been taking care of our neighbors' alpaca. I wake at 6 and stay in my bed for an hour, dreading the thought of getting up. Then I do it and we drive 5 minutes to the farm, and I thoroughly enjoy my time there--the alpaca don't realize what comical creatures they are with their just-shorn fur and their tuneless humming! But I like them that way; you see I have always wanted to hear what llamas humming sounds like. I think it must be similar to this talk of the alpaca.
My morning when we come home is filled up with breakfast and exercise, piano practice and room cleaning, and a quiet half hour reading my Bible, thinking, praying, writing long entries in my journal or just scribbling a random note. After lunch my afternoon usually consists of "one big useful thing and some time outside" as I wrote down on my list of summer goals. Usually the "one big useful thing" is a chore around the house (which I actually enjoy as long as I have good music) or an hour or so gardening. For my time outside I like to walk or nature journal, or watch the little creatures in my bird sanctuary from the vantage point of the climbing tree. When I come in there is a hodge-podge of small, random things to do which fill up what's left of my afternoon.
Of course, this is an idealized day on summer break for me. It's hard for me to make myself be productive when we come home from taking care of the alpaca. I usually worry at least a little about how well I'm practicing piano or the speed of my learning. I spend time mulling over whether I'm spending my time wisely and being productive enough with this short span of no school. But for the most part I just enjoy it, and I know I must be keeping busy enough, for time truly does fly! Soon we'll be off for the family reunion, then me and Ladybird will go home with our cousins for a few days and ride the train back here after that. I looked forward to it all immensely!