I have been thinking about something for years. When I was young, the window was for checking to see if the school bus was coming. Watching for my friends to go out and play. Later to see if the car that just pulled into the driveway was my date. Then as a mother, I watched my children comings and goings. Then looking for my grandson RudiRue when he came to visit, his arrivals, and departures took me back many years to my own youth.

There was a time when I discovered the wonderful art on the windows in the winter. I was amazed at the wonderful landscapes and flowers that Jack Frost left. I remember asking my Mother who put them there. I was young when she told me Jack Frost; I was hoping I could draw that magnificent, to be able to have such minute detail in all that I painted when I got older. At the window, I learned to put out a piece of black paper, catch the snowflakes, and see all the shapes. I tried to draw them before they melted. I do not think I could get it completely done, but I would try to finish them to look as remarkable as the real thing.

I do remember looking out the window when in school and seeing the sun and wishing I was out on the playground. I remember in the fifth grade the teacher telling us to look out our window, and it was raining. She told us quietly look out the window of the classroom across the hall; the sun was shining brightly on that side of the school. I realized then that when it was raining the sun was shining too, each in its own place. As I was thinking about the differences of what was or wasn’t in rain, snow and the sun bright days I remembered asking my mom the summer before first grade (after having lain in my clover patch watching the stars with my sister,) if it was the same time around the world. She explained to me that as the sun and moon went around the earth, depending on where each was that was the time of day. Wherever the sun was, it was day and wherever the moon was it was night. I was a very inquisitive child; I still to this day have many questions. I probably always will.  I too can remember my Mother telling me to save some questions for another day.

As a child, I did not look out the window to see what the weather was. Our Mother always told us if we needed a coat or hat. It was not until I was more mature that I looked out to see for myself what the weather was doing. It seems the weather person on TV is not always right about the future of rain or sun or warmth or cold that my day or week ahead may be. My eyes do just fine; assessing on how long I think I will be outside, and what I will be doing. Long enough here, in this area I take an extra sweatshirt with hood. If it gets colder or starts to rain, you are covered. More often than not, those are the only changes that can and regularly happen in this corner of the world.


I learned a dozen or more years ago in meeting people from all places that their window size would be in how they saw or interpreted things to be, or their logical thinking. The determination of window dimension for each person seems to be equivalent by the amount of knowledge; we had gained to that point in our lives. I found those who grew up in the same place and never moved from where they were born, raised, married, had family all in the same small town, they didn’t see things the same as those who had moved away and lived and raised their families elsewhere. Then there were those that did a lot of traveling and lived in several different places, even more than one state, and some more than one country. It was awe-inspiring to me to see the subtle differences in the thinking and the overview on what they thought of things going on in their backyard, town, and state and even around the world. The closer one stayed to the small rural living seemed to be looking through a smaller window. That is not to say everyone; it differed by education, how much one read, and the culture you experienced. Everything seems to weigh in as to what the size of window we each are looking out. There are many varying sizes; it seems one size does not fit all.

Now when I look out my window, I see all of nature. I see the beauty of the sky, the sun-up’s, and the sundown’s. So many wonderful colors I could not name them all. To look and to see the green of the new grass in the spring, that is the only time of the year the grass will have that special greenness. My eyes take in many colors of all the different flowers. I smell the freshness of spring and all the wonderful fragrances coming from the different flowers and trees. I hear the wondrous songs from our birds of so many species and the frog’s calls for their mate. I watch the thrasher flipping the leaves on the ground to find what is there to eat. The deer coming and going, they see me, but they know they are safe. I now have a nice sized male black bear that comes to visit us regularly, see him always in our front yard checking things out, then moves on without incidence. I watch the Eagles and hawks, and the Barred Owl is new and has decided to take up residence with us too. I have seen and heard the Great Gray Owl, what a magnificent picture that makes. We have the Pileated Wood Pecker, Red-naped Sapsucker, doves with their special calls, the Flickers and the cedar-waxed wings, and I cannot forget Momma Wren that has lived in the eaves just above my window for years. I have watched her in as many springs, summers, falls, and winters. I have watched her raised so many different broods, and what a tireless singer she is. They have such a lively way of searching for food, and they miss nothing. So many different species of birds that one day I have promised myself to start making a list of each and everyone that I see on our properties. Maybe I will start that list tomorrow.

From my window, I see not only spring but there is summer. I can see a part of my gardens. I am so proud of my vegetables and the neat rows. I love my above ground boxes; they make it that much easier for me to do my work in this my summer garden. I like the bench at the top of each side. I can knell or sit which ever I choose to pull the weeds or pick the French green beans. As the season warms the grass, gets gold like hay. Then before we know it, the leaves are falling, and it is autumn. I do love fall and all the colors that it displays. I love the smell of leaves in the fall and the sound it makes when you are walking though them. I remember when we as children would jump in the piles of leaves and have the leaf fights all of us laughing and having such a good time. Those were the days of raking, playing, and then the hot cocoa. I love the pumpkins and corn stalks at harvest time. Our youth group at my church would have a hayride each fall with horses and a party at the end of the ride. I knew winter was not too far off; there were a few years that our hayride was a sleigh ride with snow all around. That was just as much fun, and we could to hear the bells that hung on the horses as we went around town. There was always lots of singing and laughing on these rides. I can remember people watching out there windows, I wonder if they were remembering their youth. I now when I see playful sites it brings to my mind the games we played and the joy of being a child all over again.

It is an amazing site to look out my window when there is fresh snow; its blanket covers everything as far as you can see. It is beautiful, the purity of the white color of snow, I love it when it is virginal with no tracks other than those of nature. I love watching the snowflakes as they come down, it is magical and hypnotizing watching them free fall until they land, you feel so much comfort in your warmth by your window watching the world transform itself in front of you once again. Each time you look out it will show you something else, something changed or one of nature’s wonders walking or flying through. In all of these years and all of the times, I never see the same thing, never twice. Of all the wonderful beautiful sites, I can remember it was a winter wonderland of white. Everything covered in winter’s white, the limbs of the evergreens laden with the weight. The beauty and dept of all, the snowdrifts, the mounds and nothing disturbed, so fresh.

You never know what you will see, or what you will remember as you look out your window; it depends on your mind’s eye. It is a wonder to look upon what is out there, but it may just take you back to by gone and beyond. That is when I say my window took me on a trip in time; I saw it all in my picture window every time!

My window I look out as my day is beginning. When the weather is bad, I can just watch all that nature has to offer. At my window, I can sit and think things through. However, often times my chain of thoughts get interrupted by what I see out my window. It does not take much. My window is where I go wrapped in my blanket when I am not feeling well. It is the best medicine I could take. I will take several doses several times a day and in a few days, I am back to myself. My window is the eyes of my world, I love my window, and it has become my favorite place to just be silent and watch, watch whatever, watch it all. I watch the seasons come and go. I can leave and go, but I know when I come home it is my window I will seek.

I at times, think of an elderly man that I would see sitting in his window every time I went past his house. He sat in that window watching the world for several years that I know of. I noticed him on about the third time going down his street. I started waving at him each time I went by. The first few times he just looked. Then he started waving back at me each time. I could tell he knew my schedule, he was waiting on me, and he now was the first to wave with a big smile on his face. Every time I went down Cherry Street, I would see him as he would see me. This went on for several years two times a week. On one Tuesday, I went by, and he was no longer in his window. The next time I went by, I saw his family was packing up his things. The house and its window were empty there on Cherry Street. I wondered how long he had lived in that house. How many years did he watch everything from his window, I knew of several, and I was glad to have been a part of his sites. I think of him often and think of his smiles. I wonder too will that be me in my window some day. I hope so.

I am learning that your window can be just your mind. We can allow it to become a window of our life, or we can use it from time to time. A friend brought to my mind that you have to think about those that look into windows too. Your Friend...Just Me (RaeDi)

Tags: Black Bear Birds Countries Thoughts Travels Weather Windows

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Copyright © 2009 ….RaeDi

When spring comes, the American Robin returns, I can remember hearing, “Spring’s not far off I seen my first robin today.”  Here is the Northwest it is such a thrill to see that first Robin.  After months of gray dreary skies, a cold dampness that penetrates to my very bones and so much rain, I sometimes wonder why I have not grown webfeet.   It is wonderful knowing that the Robin expressive song will be the first thing heard at days first light and the last one singing as evening sets.   

Come February the American Robin returns here to the Northwest.  They flock in together.  I observed a behavior here a few years ago that I had not realized until I saw it with my own eyes.  I have learned they will assemble in a large flock and fly into one bush or tree to roost for the night.  The first time I watched this, it seems so strange.  I observed several dozen robins had congregated on our front lawn.  Then all of a sudden, they all flocked into one of our Rhododendron bushes.  I had no idea they did this.   Once I had become aware of this natural occurrence, I seem to observe it, now seeming to be a common occurrence.  This is of course before they disperse in pairs for mating and building their nests. 

I love to watch all the different species return for the season.  Taking the time to just watch, study, and see things for myself.  It amazes me how our feathered friends do things.  For several weeks now, since early spring, I have been watching several robins gathering victuals, the necessities that is needed for their hatchlings to grow and be healthy.  I take a moment and marvel about all the dedication the male and female have from beginning to end.  They both gather all the materials it will take to make the nest.  The female works tirelessly to make the nest, when done it will weather any storm.  Working for hours unending until it is complete, getting it precisely how they want.  I observe them, hoping that they do not become conscious of this fact.  They have kept me very busy, trying hard not to be noticed.  We have three different nests in the vicinity of the house.  I do not want to intrude on their space.  I would feel extremely sorry if because of my actions, my eavesdropping would distress anyone of them.  They have worked tirelessly, finding and carrying natural and artificial material to build her nest.  They find long course grass, sticks, twigs, hair, a variety of mosses, reeds, feathers and so much more to make this nest.  The female is the one to take all the gatherings as they come in and make the nest.  Once she is finished, making the outside of the nest, she plasters the inside with mud and she will line it with grass or other natural material for cushioning. She has designed her nest for incubating and protecting the eggs she will lay.   The eggs, laid in a clutch of three to five, they are uniform and have a striking color of greenish-blue. From the time they start their season, usually February here, she will do this two to three times in the season.  The nest is abandoned once all chicks have left the nest and a new nest built for each new brood.

It takes 14 days for them to hatch, once hatched she will take the empty shells and discard them well away from the nest.  She wants no tale-tale signs that there is a nest in the area.   Once hatched add another couple of weeks and the chicks will leave the nest.  Their wings are not developed enough for flight; it will take yet another couple of weeks for full flight.  They can have short little flights hardly off the ground, they have to wait until their wings are fully developed and have all the feathers needed for full flight. 

Right now, the female and male are busy feeding their brood.  They are coming and going with worms, then beetles grubs, caterpillars, fruit and berries.  Our salmon berries are in full season, the bright yellow berries are ripe and plump.  I watch the parents gathering the salmon berries, they take the time to enjoy a few before returning to the nest for the next feeding.  The parents are coming and going continuously during the day.  When they first leave the nest, the parents stay with the little one teaching the chick its life’s lessons when they know it is time they leave it to its own.  It will not be long before I will see them on the ground hopping around and begging its parents to come and feed it.  However, they are on their own.  You can see the male and female from the tree branches; they stay with them, well beyond where the little chick could make a return, but they will observe and scrutinize from a good distance until the little ones takes flight. 

It is a site to watch them stretch out as much as it can to try for that salmon berry low on the branch, but still just out of reach.  Try as it might, it just cannot quite get it.  Once having tried several times, it sits back and calls for mom and dad to come and feed me.  The cries are heard, but they do not relent to come and help the chick.  It is on its own and needs to learn how to fend for himself.  Now if it was in danger of a cat, hawk, eagle and so many other things that prey on the little ones, the parents, even other robins will come to defend the little one.    It will soon learn how to get the berries just out of reach and to find its own worms.  I take note they leave the nest very plump and healthy.  They do not any of them starve and all seem to stay plump and healthy.  They are ready at the end of the season to join the flock and start the migration south. 

Robins, what do they have to do with us?  When RudiRue comes to visit, he is a very inquisitive child.  His curiosity is wonderful; his inquiring about all things that he sees is a wonderful opening to teach that life of nature is not or should not be much different from us humans.  He probes us on everything; we are ready and willing to answer all his questions.  He loves walking our trails and our beach as much as his Mema.   Gramps is like a walking encyclopedia.  He is willing to answer any and all of RudiRue’s questions (mine too!).  When Gramps and RudiRue  return after an afternoon out with their walking sticks and a backpack of snacks now emptied from all the different animals in the area, he is so excited to recite back everything he has witnessed and the how’s and whys and can even name the different funguses that grow here and that is many.   He retains everything.  I am so ecstatic that this child loves to walk, to run and play.  To learn and keep hold of those things that he has such great interest in.  The only way to go from there is to keep adding to his repertoire.  He is learning firsthand the similarities between nature and us humans.

When and why did humans quit observing nature, to live our lives, scrutinize our lives like that of the robin, I think that is when we started to fail our children?  RudiRue does not watch television.  He does not play the video games; he does not eat cookies and chips and drink soda pop.  He is happy with an apple or a bunch of grapes as a snack.  He asks for a glass of water.  I am very blessed that he does not realize how the other children are allowed to live their lives.  RudiRue does not have a weight problem.  He can stretch out and reach for the good in life.  He can run, jump, and not be breathless.

I loved to read to RudiRue, we together drew pictures and put together words for his first book.  He was so proud of his book he wrote.  He told his Gramps he was an author, he was the ripe old age of three. 

I think if we humans study nature and raise our children as the Robin does, they teach the chick all the things needed to survive.  Then they let go.  Maybe if we took the time from infancy and taught our children all the values of life including diet, and give them all the education they would need to be ready to face the world.  Teach them the values of money and the difference between what is a need and a want.  They will be ready to leave the nest when the time comes.  They will be prepared to face this world on their own. 

Hopefully we have loved them, taught them the difference between right and wrong, what morals are, a good strong faith foundation, how to eat and stay healthily and to maintain a strong mind and body.  Give them all the tools and equip them with all the things that are important, so they can be a productive adult.   They will be able to help themselves but also to help those that cannot help themselves.  This would lead to a stronger, more diligent and self sustainable human for humanity itself.  

Add to the list of why we have endangered species, and how that same thing affects us humans.  The environment, pesticides and toxins, chemicals look what they have done to our nature and look at what it is doing to our health.  We need to try as hard as we can to take that time to teach all avenues of life to our children.  The time needed to raise a child, even though it is scarce, find it, give the attention, knowledge to those little chicks while they are still in the nest.  They will then be able to help themselves. 

Gathering and flocking together is so much different from parents raising children who are in there 20’s, 30’s and 40’s.  I know there are those extraordinary circumstances that we cannot foresee or maintain, but with raising, the little chick and giving him all the armor needed to face the world; maybe we can help prevent these situations, and conditions from going out of control.  Teach them in all security measures, the difference between need and want, needed is a safety net, saving accounts for those rough times that we all face at one time or another.  Wants can be put on hold indefinitely.  

I pray Lord that we can equip our children from the foundation up with faith.  That they know the difference between right and wrong, they know that helping themselves is the first step to being a productive adult.  Lord I pray that they see what the needs are and know what the wants means.  Give them discernment; let them know shrewdness and prudence.  I pray Lord that they are filled with love, confidence, common sense, education, are strong and healthy and know how to stay that way.  I pray Lord that they cleave out that which has harmed humanity.  Let them learn what compassion, empathy, kindness and charity are.    Thank you Lord for the spirit that resides in all souls, open my eyes to see all that you have created and to learn from each.  Keep us grounded and growing in our faith. I give praise to Father, Son and Holy Ghost.  In You Name I Pray and Give Thanks….Amen

  “I pray for a good strong flight for each little chick!” ….Just Me

(RudiRue is my only grandchild.  I have a picture cube on my profile page.)           

Tags: Robins Family Raising Needs Wants Flocking Leaving the Nest Being Prepared

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....RaeDi ~ 2008 ©

At the start of each new day, it brings fresh
new beginnings

The day starts like no other, the sun-up impressive

With colors, scattering a broad width spreading out, stroking and tingeing the morning clouds

Glorifying the early dawn for those who seize the moment with the quietness of early morn

The hues merge flowing together a convergence with the early dawn sun

The mountain tops the line of disclosure, as the sun emerges
ascending higher

     Bursting full the brightness of this new
days beginnings

     The light casting and showing a brilliant display

     Colors all in a perfect array

    The best finery she could muster for those who come and kept an eye on

Her first showing at the beginning of each new
day at dawn

None alike, a variance of weather, the formation,
and configuration

Of the clouds exerting a pull on and draw the colors as increasing rapidly the light

     That had displayed the wondrous colors now dim and the colors diffuse

Glowing weak and muted fainting as the sun
climbs higher

Now the new beginning is showing the light
now bright

Of this day and will again display her amazing illustration as the day begins its end

     The sundown’s are on display for us to watch as the sun fades away and faintly blends

     Then disappears over the orb taking leave and it once again combines at skies end

The brilliant color implicitly filling the edge of
the horizon

The sun withdraws from this day leaving perception

Awareness that no one day starts or ends the
same way

Each is its own each new day

Ends each day in as many ways

 I love watching the skies, it does not matter the color or cloud formation, other than the dreary gray seen here so often.  Maybe that is why seeing colors in my skies wakes up my spirit and reminds me of what a glorious world our Maker has given us.  With added benefits such as the beginnings and endings of each new day....Just Me

Tags: Sunup's Sunsets Mountain Tops Beginnings Endings

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Copyright © 2009 ….RaeDi

Copyright © 2009 ….RaeDi

I pray Lord open my ears to hear all you have to say.

Give me understanding and love so I can go where you lead.

Help me to love and I pray for those in need;

Give me provisions to help when called on to ease
 the pains of hunger.

Compel me Lord to have the knowledge for those souls to see the truth.

Give me Lord words of empathy, concern, and consideration;

 With Your touch, Your care, kindness and Your devotions.

 For those who need your spirit with love loss,
and physical hardship.

Help me Lord to have the words to say, so others will know;

The love you have, the blood you shed for our transgressions.

Keep me Lord from failing; keep me strong so I may carry on,

So I can speak Your words Lord, let known your
compassion and Lord

Let me maintain in all I do; what I say, and my actions,

 Let how I walk reflect You my Lord.

I give thanks Lord That I can hear You speak

 With love and tenderness speak to me through all that is …..Amen.

I want to take this time to lift up Deb and her family Lord, give them peace and let Deb's physicians use your healing hands to take care of her medical problem.   May they find comfort, and the problems healed, so they can be reunited as a Family back at their home.  I give thanks to our Lord....Amen

Tags: Listening feather friends flowers colors water waves tides mercy grace comp

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Good Afternoon My Fellow Boomers,

I am new here at My Boomer Place; my first sign in date was May 20, 2009.  I immediately felt the warmth and love that you all have for each other.  My spirit has felt the heartwarming welcome you each have given me.  Being new I have sat back and observed your relationships with each other and as a whole of all and I see and feel the beautiful relationships you have formed.  The encouragement you give to one another is amazing.  You nourish each other, I took note of just that and more the first day I came to the blogs.   I now know when I come to My Boomer place from the first click I will have such an enjoyable time of it.  You can feel the love and respect you have for each other.  You nourish each other in ways that most don’t’ see in everyday life.  My Boomer Place took me back in time.  Back to when we were growing up, a simpler time, and a more realistic time.  I feel very blessed to have come to your online community.  I look forward to getting to know each of you better and becoming one of the regulars.  I will become a gold member, you have opened my eyes and I will indeed be happy to give a donation to keep this community going and growing.  I so look forward to the relationships and all the possibilities that are available to me here with each of you.  I realize that some relationships take time, but I have hope of all the rewards my spirit will feel with all my new found friends.  I know that you will feed my mind and put a smile on my soul, I have already encountered that with my new found friends, thank you.  Many Blessing to each of you and yours….Just Me

Tags: Membership Relationships Encouragement Nourish Respect Blessings

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Copyright © 2009 ….RaeDi

I went for a walk this morning.  The weather was perfect for it, been a long winter.  Winters are very hard on this soul.  This will be the last one spent here in the Pacific Northwest.  It is God’s country, but the cold damp winters are hard on my health.  I hope and pray each spring that I get back my losses.  I’ve noticed the past two winters; I haven’t gained all that was lost so this was the decision maker.  My winters will be spent in a dry Southern region.  Not for sure where, but what an adventure it will be to find my special spot.  I love adventure.  I always have, I am one not to sit still for long.  Each and all of my memories are very cherished and to this point in my life not forgotten.  The good, bad and indifferent, the reason, I feel I have learned from each one of them and each one good,  bad or indifferent are what makes me ~ me.  I am who I am because of all that which makes up my past. Hopefully, the good things represent more of who I am and what defines me, and I believe they outbalance the other two.  The last I think are what has made me stronger, I am what most would call a survivor of the many obstacles that have been in my life.  Some I created or put there, I am relieved to say that the better parts of those were come upon.  Nevertheless, I survived.  Who knows what is around the corner, but it may just be something that blesses me more than anything I could possibly dream of?

Yes, I need to get back on track….It is a beautiful day.  In the 70’s, sunny and the sky, the most beautiful color of blue, what a contrast to the dreary gray we see here from usually September until June, it sure makes one stop and take in the beauty and give thanks to our Maker.  When I started out, I wasn’t for sure in which direction I would go.  Our mud room has two doors.  One leads to our woods the other to the beach.  I decided to take the one headed for the woods.  Not sure in which direction I would take, just start walking, listening and watching for anything that would take my attention.  This is a norm for me, even if I did plan what and where I was going usually something draws my attention, and I’m off in that direction.  I call these times when I am out and about with myself, my spiritual time.  I let my soul look, feel, smell, and during the right time of season taste all the Lord has given us.  I often wonder if others see their world as I see mine.  I count all the notes, I hear our feathers friends sing the songs straight from Heaven.  Even the plumage these creatures wear is God’s gift to us; you see every color that He created.  I think what a gifted God we have, talented in all fields.  Can you imagine being able to create these colors with such perfection?  From the little Hummingbirds to the Eagles seen often gliding in circles overhead, size doesn’t matter they are each such a beauty and grace in flight.  Their notes filling the air, I call it tranquility.  It so soothes my spirit.

 I take a few breaks to listen and look.  On one such break a doe and twin fawns appeared ahead.  She knows I’m here, she also knows not to fear me.  The little fellas white spots are still very bright; they cannot be more than a few days old.  It so amazes me when I see these little ones how they balance on those wee little ankles.   I give her time and she moves on.  I am in awe as I continue my walk, the colors of spring greens so bright, as bright as the sky is blue.  I have picked a glorious day for a walk.  I packed a small picnic to take with me, at this time I am so   thankful I took the time.  I will indeed be out in my woods for a good spell.   The fresh air feels so good, I note that I am taking in deep breaths and realizing the refreshing sensation, I feel throughout my body.   It gives this soul pause to think about all that is, and it transcends me once again to be one with spirit.  It surpasses anything I can put to words at this point.  I just know that my spirit comes alive, and I see things through my Maker eyes.  I don’t bring my camera on these walks.  I put my all into seeing and feeling, smelling all that surrounds me.  I wish I could share or put to words how amazing this  altered states feels, it exceeds all I can describe, it surpasses anything else that I have experienced in my walk on this my life’s journey the Lord has given me.  To feel one with nature, a oneness with our Lord, to walk as a spirit, that is what I feel I experience each time I let myself just go deep into without thought really.  Just letting my spirit be, consenting a totality, and making available the enter spirit to be the one to think, see and listen, setting no limits or bounds.  Then I often times wonder if other souls realize what a gift He has given us, when we allow Him to just be, to put everything else to the side, and just be, let Him lead and show us all that is, all that surrounds us.  This journey is so exhilarating.   Nothing can you compare it too.  I go where not I lead, I am allowed to see and feel things that, for the most part, I feel are sanctioned by our Lord, in letting go, I received so much more than I could even think to ask for. 

I find myself in the lower bog.   I have been told this is a peat bog, millions of years old.  Finn Creek comes through.  This is one of our hollows; the Lord has been so good to me.  The sun filters through and makes sun streaks everywhere I look, it is so spiritual.  I feel the light of our Lord everywhere, reflecting and throwing beams in all directions.  I find myself on my cedar tree.  This is a special spot for me, since the first time I set eyes on this hollow.  My cedar tree has grown into a bent hammock over the creek.  Just wide enough for me to get a relaxing lay on her.   I lay there and I hover, I feel as though I am floating, drifting off to where the Lord wants to take me to show and teach me things that I know of not.  I am positioned here on my cedar hammock with the creek surrounding me, I listen to her babble underneath me and on both sides it is so soothing.  I see every once in a while a small fish comes through.   I hear the special notes above me, I look up and she a pair of Bald Eagles circling and with a juvenile,   it is being taught the lessons of life.  The thin chittering notes; seem quite weak for such a magnificent bird.  I have no idea how long I watched them. 

It amazes me the repertoire of each birds call or songs: from feeding and alarm calls, announcing their presence, or calling their mates to name just a few.  The doves are cooing the sound so peaceful, I guess that is why we have the dove and the olive branch.  I am honored and privileged that the Western Tanager makes a call.  The  male with his brilliant red head, bright yellow body, with the black of its  back, wings and tail that is so striking against the bright colors, their mates the females in the what seems to be muted colors  of yellow-green in comparison to the males brilliant, intense colors.  His colors are used to draw attention away from the nests, her colors, so she blends in.   Their song is strong and carries far, very similar to the Robin. They are so shy; it is a wonderful offering from our Lord to allow me to watch them for an extended period of time.   A  Red Headed Sapsucker has landed on my cedar hammock on the rise, I know he knows I am here, but he has decided to sit a spell and sun himself.  I wait in quiet and just watch and take in all his colors from his red head to his claws.   I realize I have been gone for a long time, and I am hungry and so thankful for the food I brought.  It is a very simple meal of cheese, bread, grapes and a small thermos of hot tea.  It was very tasty and satisfying I decided to leave some of each as a gift to my friends who have visited me this consecrated day the Lord has given me.  This is a day the Lord has blessed me with, very hallowed grounds in my peat bog hollow, one, I will not forget.  I feel as good now as I have felt in awhile, and I know my spirit has been recharged.   I will now head home ~ back to reality, until next time….Just Me

Tags: Peat Bog Hollow Hallowed Birds Colors Feathers Eagels Tanagers Red Headed S

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"RudiRue" My Little Fella

 "Full Circle"
____________

Copyright © 2008 ….RaeDi

I had heard it said repeatedly since I was young, each life will go in a full circle. As a child and even a young adult, I wondered what going in a full circle meant. To me, it was a very perplexing statement for the entirety of my life until here recently. I had not a clue, no understanding as to the gist of the true essence of what it would take to go full circle or what one should feel.  I had wondered at times if I would even know when it happened. It took me until I was fifty-one years old before I knew what it truly meant. My life and its direction and lifestyle would all undergo an all-encompassing transformation of my complete being. I knew instantly when I had gone full circle. It was an exceptional hot early evening. The phone rang; I had been waiting for this call for several days. The time had been fast approaching. I had my bag packed and everything in order for this most special of occasions.  I would be present, and unknowingly I would play a significance role, the role of my lifetime in just a few short hours. There were no rehearsals, no planning on my part. I thought I would be an observer. I was happy to be an eyewitness to this amazing appearance. The reality had not set in as we drove the thirty-one miles to our destination. The trip, for the most part, was quite. My mind was thinking about whom I had been. How this would change me and would I ever be as I was before. My purpose in life I instinctively knew was about to change. This amplification of my enter being would only be enhanced; the part of my life that had the most meaning and enjoyment was going to swell further than I had known possible. I had no idea at the expanse this would bring my spirit. I have heard from so many who have gained this status nothing in this world can you compare it with. We arrived at our destination and all was going as planned. I had been afraid that I would miss it; I would not be there for the special revealing, I so wanted to experience it firsthand. We knocked and we heard a familiar voice call, “Come on in, the door is unlocked.” We opened the door all was quiet, and we looked at each other to see if we either one knew what was going on. Then a person appeared down the hall and told us we could come on in. As we approached the room, we looked, and our eyes locked, we both were being held in our own expectancy.  Everything seemed so quiet. The closer we got to the room we both then heard the soft classical music playing. The drapes were drawn and a lamp with defused light was the only glow in the room. Everything was going as planned. I had questioned and even had anticipation of the decision of where this would take place. I had prayed there would be no concerns or problems to visit this small home during this special time. Within thirty minutes of our arrival, it came about. I knew what coming full circle meant. The birth of the most precious little fella I would get to know, and I would have the honor, the privilege of separating his lifeline, his link to his mother; he was now on his own. I was then told to take him, I was being honored this special blessing of being the first one to hold this ever so small little boy. As I held my only Grand baby, a boy with skin the color of pearls, and he had the lightest rufus colored hair. He was the exact image of his father at his birth. I was holding my Grandson and looking at him, his perfect little fingers, and toes, his body the same build as his father. He came into this world as quietly as the dimness of the light in the room. Both his parents were in tears, this brand new Grandmother was in tears as I took inventory. I was so taken by the miracle of life in itself. It was while I was holding him that I come to know what “Full Circle” meant. I had just come full circle in my life. Up to this point, I was encompassing-encircling for the completion of my circle, for this very moment. The circle was complete. As I held this precious gift from our Lord, I was giving thanks for him. I heard someone speak faintly, “His name is Noah Mathias, the son of Andrew Paul.” I was a Grandmother, and as I looked from my firstborn - my Son to my Grandson, I gave my thanks for all the goodness that our Lord has blessed me with; this blessing would be so cherished. My circle of life was complete. I had a new perspective now on my life.  My understanding came instantly as I held my Grand baby.  I knew why so many individuals in my life who had already experienced this had spoken how dearly it had changed their lives like nothing else. I also knew I was going to love being a ‘Mema.’ “Welcome to my world RudiRue. I love you more my little fella.”

Since RudiRue’s birth, I have come to the realization that going “Full Circle” is as individualized and each individual. No one’s “Full Circle” is the same. I also have become conscious of the colors in each individual circle. All the experiences and challenges, all the highs and the lows and everything in between are represented in each of our circles. Now when I see a rainbow it means so much more to me. I now realize the events for the rest of my life; I am here on earth will bring completeness in the whole of the circle. When we took our leave for a few moments so Noah’s parents could have time with just him, we were sitting out on their balcony. As we sat there, a sunset of every color in the rainbow appeared across the horizon. To me the Lord was showing His full blessings of the events that had just taken place. I believe my many blessings will add to the total sum for the better part of the whole of my circle of life.

writterDeb (I hope I have that right, when reading your profile yesterday ~ it brought so many fond memories to my forefront and gave me pause to think, this I post because of you and all the other Grandparents that realize what a joy the little fellas bring....Just Me 

Tags: Grand Son RudiRue Beach Hiding

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By….RaeDi © 2008 (revised 2009 copyright)

When I was young, I loved to draw. I would draw anything and everything. I would tape together with my Mom’s help typing paper to make a large drawing surface and would draw one of my favorite things, the earth from the globe sitting in our home library. I knew where everything was. I could not in the beginning read the words or know what each country was called or where it was located. However, before long I could tell you everything, where all the countries were and their capitols.  I knew the rivers and mountain ranges; I loved Geography and still do.  However, I could draw a complete Atlas type picture showing everything that the globe showed, in minute details. My Mom would use a type of wall putty that she would hang the newest of maps on my wall, until I finished yet another one to replace it. I cannot tell you how I decided which maps that I drew would go into my word box and which ones I would give away, usually to my Grandpa Charlie when he came to visit. He would study it and show me everywhere he had been and where our family had come from and where they lived while on this earth. I found it so exciting to know that we had lived in so many places on my maps. When he departed after each visit, he would take the maps I had drawn, and I gave him many other pictures I had drawn, just for him. Those drawings were the pictures of things; I knew Grandpa Charlie would love. We loved walking up to the twin parks and sitting on a bench and watching the cars and people go by. I remember drawing a picture of our bench and the trees in the park, and one was of the gazebo. He loved flowers, so I would take hours drawing a perfect peony or dahlia; I knew he loved both of those flowers. Barns and country roads too, it was easy to know what to draw for Grandpa Charlie.

However, more important than my drawings was my box of words. My Grandpa Charlie had made me a special box of wood for my drawing and my cherished words. It was a big size for me when I was young. It was bigger than one of my dresser drawers. I kept it under my side of the bed. He had made it for me so my special things would always be safe.  I did not think I would ever have enough drawing or words to fill the box. How naive I was at the time.

After I started school, I learned my love of words was far greater than I could have imagined they could be. My first love, besides Sally, Dick, and Jane was the Weekly Reader that we got each week. From the very first week in school, I fell in love with this wonderful magazine full of information from around the world. I soon realized that my maps and my Weekly Readers were as one to me. At a very young age, I had started to make a list of the things, I learned in my Weekly Reader, the list was of all the things I would someday go, visit, and see for myself.

I soon learned reading opened up so many doors. I was learning so much about all the places I had drawn when I could not read. The words filled in my map with color. I soon found that I had a love of poetry and putting words together made for brilliant reading. I would look up where these authors lived on the globe. I would also take the time to write down the stories and poems and meticulously draw any illustrations that came with the poem or story. I would put these in my box of words. I had kept my Weekly Readers in this box, until I realized that I would need the space for my precious words and my special art the ones I painstakingly had to pick what to keep, and what I could give away.

I started adding my words to my word box before I could really read for myself. If I heard a poem or story, I would ask to see it and copy everything precisely as it was in the book. I would write down who wrote the words that touched my soul. I kept a list of authors and artists in my box of words. Over the years, the box was reaching the point of having little room to add anything more. I have tried to part with some of it, but I have become so attached to each of these words. I have gone through this box countless times to retrieve some words that I would remember to share with others I thought would enjoy them as much as myself. These words have grown with me, they have fashioned my life and my soul. My art and its style are because of these words. The list that I made as a very young child reading the wonderful words in the Weekly Readers so long ago, I have gone and seen everything on this list but for one thing. I have seen the Concorde. I have had my picture taken next to the Saguaro’s that were so much bigger than I could have imagined, and seen that the desert is so alive with life I had no idea. I have seen the glaciers of blue in Alaska, the turquoise color water off the Islands of Hawaii.  The whales, I have seen more than I could possibly have dreamt of seeing.  I have been to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Seen Big Ben and the London Bridge, and what did I think when I saw it, the song London Bridge is falling down. I saved so much about our founding fathers, and I have visited each of their homes. I have climbed mountains high, and hot deserts low. I have walked by the rivers edges and valleys deep. I have seen the 'Mona Lisa,' ' The Thinker,' been to countless museums in countless countries and continents. I have gone to the theater from Broadway NYC to Paris, all because of my love of words. It all started with my simple love of drawing, and my Weekly Reader. The one place left on my list. Australia. The Kangaroo and the Koala are what I have not seen that I put on my list of things to do so many years ago. In this box, I have put souvenirs (menus, handouts of plays, and movie tickets, pictures and so much more) of the places I have been with the list of things I wanted to do in this lifetime. In this box is the last letters my Grandpa Charlie wrote me and some very special letters and cards from my sister Jacquie that just passed a year ago. I have saved letters from other loved ones and special little paper art from my children. I found I saved the footprints of my twins when they were born. Their feet were just over an inch long when they made an early entrance into this world.  

My box of words, started as a very young girl, I could not yet read. It has moved with me from the Midwest to the Southeast. To the Northeast and again back down to the Southeast. Then it made it the long journey with me to the Great Northwest. She has never been left behind, never out of my site. She was the first thing to go into the truck for our journey to each of our new homes. I did not trust the movers with my precious box of words. This box of words is my life it is my soul. It will be with me until the day my soul passes this world to the next. I do hope that my children will realize how much of me is in that old box of words, each word is a part of me.

To lose my box of words would be to lose my sense of self, my true bearings. It has made me; it has matured by my soul from a very young age. It has kept my eyes open and my heart beating, and even taken my breath away a few times. I have never been disappointed in my box of words. It has made my eyes see everything, my ears hear everything, and my hearts beat with all the adventures and beauty, my hands feel and even draw all this from the words of description, I hold in my box of words. I could smell the flowers or the salt in the air from the words that I read. To feel the love, despair, laughter, and the sounds the words described and the colors, they each and all were alive to me at the moment of reading my words. My adventures have taken me around the world and back again. My box of words has been my soul keeper. I think I can say without pause, my box of words is I. I could not be without it, in all these years I could not say how many times I have been in and out of my box of words. Nevertheless, I have always held these papers, pictures with lightness, a grace, pure gentleness; I did not want to lose one word or drawing. The words were in a way a map to my world. All from drawing maps as a child that I could not yet read the words, these words, I would love from the very beginning. My box of words is I.

This was a writing assignment.  We were supposed to write several pages on something in our life that defined us, it also was supposed to be something that made us who we are, something that we could not live without, and it was supposed to be from our material world.  I had no problem, I knew as soon as I heard the assignment my old friend ‘My Box of Words’ was who I was and why I am.  I have never considered my box of words as being of the material world, because it is such a part of me.  It helped to define me, helped to make me who I am today. 

Tags: Words World Art Imagination Mountains Desert Paris London Places

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