reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: spring


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season-of-the-adirondack-chair. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

and the-season-of-the-adirondack-chair begins.

i cannot tell you how excited we are about this. for, as in most things, the beginning of something is almost always glorious, full of anticipation and expectation. and the-season-of-the-adirondack-chair is no different.

even with thermals and down vests, even with warm and fuzzy boots, there is no distracting us from the advent of this time, there is no disconcert about temperature or our sedimentary layers of clothing. the possibility just seems limitless.

we easily turn our perfectly lightweight chairs to the sun. we look at each other and smile. and deep inside, we hear bob marley singing, “every little thing is gonna be alright”.

we have waltzed on this patio, sipped wine on this patio, eaten delicious dinners on this patio, played ukuleles on this patio, had band rehearsal on this patio, entertained family and friends and scores of people who are or had been a part of our community on this patio, planned our wedding on this patio, watched our dogga on this patio, had hard and hopeful and healing conversations on this patio, planted tiny farms on this patio, laughed till our bellies hurt on this patio, cried till our bellies hurt on this patio, wished on the moon and the stars on this patio, watched the flame of our firepit dance with abandon on this patio, contemplated on this patio, grieved on this patio, napped on this patio and felt finally-awake on this patio.

and now, a new time will start, overlapping all the other times, weaving in and out of all the rest, a foliated-metamorphic-conglomerate-sedimentary rock life.

and the patio greets the adirondack chairs with glee. they all face the sun. and they smile.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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the hallway. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

and in her waking-up, in the tease of spring, in the liminal space between seasons, mother earth offers up her flowers. it’s a tiny posy of possibility, an olive branch extended to stave off impatience as we pine for warmer days, for everything to green up. and, in this waiting zone, these dried flowers spur our imagination, carry us forward.

it’s the interim times – the periods in-between – the time spent in the hallway before the next door opens – these are the reluctant times. we are reluctant to sit in the hall. we are reluctant to wait and see. we are reluctant to accept a zone of time sans shape. we think it all – the minutes and seconds, hours and years – needs definition. we are reluctant to be still. we don’t understand what feels like a screeching halt. we yearn to move, yet we are frozen in fallow.

but we are morphing. we are beautiful winter nosegays tucked into mason jars. we are march and april. we are stoking up. we are no less beautiful than verdant june and july. we are just different.

and for this time – we are somewhat rustic, somewhat fragile. we are color-muted now to be opulent later. we are the quiet before the fortissimo, meek before rackety. we are simply waiting.

we read the same paragraph over and over again, listen to the same strains of music time and again, sit and pace and sit and pace. we are the dried wildflowers, the straining buds, the transitional space, the interlude. we are the hallway.

and then.

*****

UNTITLED INTERLUDE from RELEASED FROM THE HEART ©️ 1995 kerri sherwood

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wildflower joy. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

it made me smile as i walked in. these flowers graced the expansive ladies room window in the milwaukee public market. it’s a large decal – produced by a small business in the uk called dizzy duck designs. they call this piece “retro flowers frosted window film.” it was the perfect way to achieve privacy in this space.

i’ve been in a lot of churches, plenty of chapels and many cathedrals along life’s way. i have seen countless stained glass windows. they have depicted the stories of the bible, the stories of the religious institution. there have been folksy windows, tiffany windows, ornate windows with more colored glass than imaginable, geometric windows with monochromatic patterns. the beautifully simple and texturally or story-line overdone, both.

i can’t honestly say – despite honoring the obvious artistry in all of these panels, despite their remarkability, despite their intention of storytelling, despite the serious religious overtones, the shade of light cast into the building – that i have felt anything like what i felt this day as i walked into this ladies room. i have felt other things, but not this.

these wildflowers were charming, captivating. i instantly felt joy. stealing from my dear heidi, “sprinkles” kind of joy.

i stood in front of this window – which i had not seen before – for several extra minutes. i admired each whimsical flower.

i didn’t google the panel till much later. it doesn’t have a behemoth history like magnificent stained glass windows through the decades. it’s just a sweet family-run business, trying to fill a niche and make the places in which people hang out feel good.

bravo, dizzy duck designs! i can’t think of a better reason to be in business.

“spring gets you every time. every year it sucks me in, but then, I’m easy—a few cool blue skies, new grass, wildflowers, and i’m in love. (anne lamott)

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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in fields of flowers. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

and soon, the world around us will explode with flowers. and spring ephemerals will rise out of thawing ground. crocus follow on the heels of earliest rising snowdrops. and then daffodils and tulips and maybe even hyacinths sneak into view. skunk cabbage joins the fray of the dance and trilliums send up their periscope stalks. jack-in-the-pulpit stands righteously in the savanna underbrush, sharing energy with jill-in-the-pulpit. and the mayapples…those mayapples wait to burst their canopy umbrellas up, protecting their delicate white blossoms. all together, it is a community of the transitory, sharing space. all thorns are set aside to regale the world with beauty.

george told us on the trail that many, many – most, he ventured to guess – do not look about as they hike. he said that it is rare to see someone stop on the trail to really notice, to pay attention, to ponder. he was pleased to see us – two strangers – standing and photographing.

for us, it is most-of-the-time impossible to hike and not pay notice. but, i can tell you, it is very difficult to hike – and really, truly pay attention – if there is something heavy on our hearts. i would think it impossible to hike – and wander in the fields of flowers – if there are thorns in your heart.

as far as i know, thorns in your heart may preclude your seeing of any beauty at all. they may predispose you, color your view, cloud your eyes to what-really-is, ruin any chance of you experiencing the ephemerally blissful moments of this life.

because – in terms of this world, this universe – we are really more like spring flowers than any other. we emerge and are quickly fading. we are gifted with ever so little time.

and, just like we are like spring flowers, we are also unlike spring flowers. we are not perennials. this moment – now – is our chance…to grow and bud and bloom.

how much better to wander in fields of flowers – of beauty – than to squander time and languish in thorns.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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my nest. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

i felt it as we pulled in our driveway.

most of the time i can feel this. though sometimes, i am too busy or rushed. and though sometimes, i am frazzled with thoughts. and though sometimes, i am worried or distracted. and though sometimes, i have forgotten the simplicities in the midst of complexities.

i felt it though. and it was palpable.

the driveway greeted us as we pulled in – familiar cracks along its way. the wires overhead tugged and dipped in the wind. the leaves leftover from fall and winter blew in front of us. the house whispered, “welcome home.”

and this time – this time – i heard it. clear as day, as they say.

the whisper of a home – this place i have gone to for rest and nourishment, for creative work and rejuvenation, for the growing of beloveds and the gathering of friends, for belly-laughter and sob-filled tears, for refuge and solitude. this sanctuary. this place.

as we drove – on our way home – i could think of nothing better than to enter our home, hug on dogga, throw on my sweats and comfy boots, prepare a small meal. in this place.

my nest.

“this morning, in the fresh field,

i came upon a hidden nest.

it held four warm, speckled eggs.

i touched them.

then went away softly,

having felt something more wonderful

than all the electricity of new york city.” (mary oliver)

*****

THE WAY HOME from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

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the green glow. life. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

and the deadened stalks of underbrush began to show signs of life. instead of the greys and browns of winter, its lack of light and its deep shadows, the sun has drawn out buds of newness and there is a slight glow of green in the woods.

soon, that green glow will grow and it will push out all the shadows of what had been, of the eradication that had happened in the preserve, of the fires and the heavy equipment’s tearing and grinding of buckthorn and other invasives. soon, the green glow will reflect back the warmth of the sunlight of spring and regrowth and we will walk in places that are not heavy with the press of toxic plants or trees. soon, the green glow on stems of underbrush, on trunked branches of trees will distinguish goodness from that which chokes out life.

walking – in the woods – last summer, last fall, early winter – it was hard to imagine – almost impossible – to really grok – that the beauty of the underbrush and the forest was being overrun by that which would utterly ruin it.

walking now – in the woods – in late winter/early spring – still with its juxtaposition of the echoes of the dark and the light, new vegetation and old chokemonsters, goodness and destruction – it’s ridiculously easy to see the difference.

the green glow. and the forest grows.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE mixed media 48″x91″

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the daffodil told us. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

and suddenly, there – in the midst of dried fallen leaves and fallowed underbrush, trees not yet ready to bud – there – there it was.

and it was simply in seeing it – the daffodil – that hope was evident. next is evident. tomorrow is evident.

anything right now will soon be before. the daffodil told us.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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watched pots. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

the signs are everywhere now.

birds are singing at the crack of dawn outside our open-at-least-a-slit window. the bunny is out and about in the backyard and there is a new softly-padded divot under the ornamental grasses where she made her nest last year. bulbs are sprouting and the postal delivery folks are starting to wear shorts. it will soon be spring in wisconsin.

it is tempting to go outside and trim back the grasses, rake all the debris from the gardens, pare down the sedum. to unplug the gutter warming cables, to put away the snow shovels right outside the back door, to drain, clean and refill the pond, to bring out the table and chairs, to consider much-needed replacement rugs for the deck. it is tempting to get ready.

but that would be premature.

and, ultimately, we know better.

so we will wait.

patience – at this time of year – with the sun shining and temperatures ranging from the twenties to the sixties – is most definitely hard to come by. we just have to stoke up and be zen in this liminal time.

but all good things do come in time. and eventually, it all plays out. even if it doesn’t really look that way. what’s that expression…? a watched pot never boils.

and waiting is hard.

but i have watched pots in my life.

and i know – for a fact – that – eventually – they do boil.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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the tease of time. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

i am writing this on the next day. the day after spring. it is now winter again. the seasons are getting shorter and shorter these days. i’m wondering if that is a product of age and stage, as 20 says.

mostly, it convinces us that we need to have a sense of humor. about all things. even the weather.

we sit writing this – snow outside – windows closed – heat on (though not much because i am a curmudgeon about the heat). yesterday we sat writing – birds and sunshine outside – windows open – heat off. it is off again, on again. the tease of time.

tomorrow it is march. and suddenly, i am in the month of my 65th birthday. i am in the month of medicare. i am in the month of the supplement vs the advantage plan. i am in the month of part d. i am in the month of whoa!!

and i wonder – where did the time go? wasn’t it spring yesterday? wasn’t it summer and delicious fall? how is it that i glance in the mirror and an almost-65 stares back?

it truly is the tease of time. the seasons are getting shorter and shorter. and – more and more – my investment in them is getting bigger and bigger – each individual day in each individual week in each individual month in each individual year.

the next day is all well and good. but it’s today that matters right now.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

DANCING IN THE FRONT YARD 24″x24″

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in the ‘morrow. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

for a few days – just a few, mind you – wisconsin had a tad bit of spring.

it was early as all heck, but it was pretty nice and, i must say, it made us yearn for r-e-a-l spring.

tonight – after we all get through the tornado watches and warnings – the temperature will drop fast and it will snow in the ‘morrow. que sera sera.

in the meanwhile, we watched for the truly lovely signs. the confused crocuses, the birds in the morning light, the afternoon sun on the wall of our neighbor’s garage. and, for a couple of days, we sat outside as we could, reveling in untimely weather.

we will have an attitude check tonight and tomorrow morning as we greet a day with a feels-like of about 65 degrees less than today.

but this is wisconsin. and if you decide to live here you must go with the flow.

we are writing these posts late in the day – unusual for us. i look out the window at a maybe-little-foreboding sky. we hope for the violent storms to dissipate and we prepare for winter to re-arrive.

there are no shadows on the brick wall now. it’s all becoming a little monochromatic grey out there.

and i think that – though i thoroughly enjoyed the tilt toward spring, the nod of warmth and rejuvenation – i might have rathered a normal trajectory from winter to spring…something that wouldn’t wreak havoc on people in its path, something that didn’t include tornado sirens or talk-talk of quarter-plus-size hail.

but i suppose that life is just not like that.

instead, it is all a surprise and never truly predictable. nothing to take for granted.

and i’m ready to retreat to the basement. just in case.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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