The Song of Our Syrian Guest

/ inkspeare

I love antique books. Everything is delightful about them. Beautiful graphics, gorgeous covers, even the hue of the pages that have been kissed by time, and what can I say, I cannot resist the scent of an old book. Someone should just come up with a perfume or air scent reminiscent of it.

Last Christmas my niece gifted me an antique copy  (1904 – 505th printing) of The Song of Our Syrian Guest by William Allen Knight. The gorgeous illustrations/prints are by Charles Copeland. This is one of the best gifts I have ever received in all my life. What a treasure it is! I gasped when I saw it, page by page, but moreover, I was delighted when I read it. Everything is so beautiful and detailed about its pages – the lovely ornate print, the simple black and white illustrations that reveal so much, and the soft palette of the cover and some of the print.  The book is about psalm 23 from the point of view of a shepherd, and how  the imagery of the psalm has a real purpose and meaning that a shepherd would know. This has been my favorite psalm; I never knew that I would read it in a whole new different light, and find so much more in it. I recommend this little gem to any reader. It is a treasure for sure. If you can get a hold of an old copy, better. I hope you do. You will not be disappointed. My niece decorated the first page with a dry flower, which I think gave it a special touch. I will treasure it forever, and it will have a prominent space in my collection. Here are some pictures so you can appreciate its beauty.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A,D,

Nature Treat

/ inkspeare

When I moved from the Jersey shore to southern Virginia, I knew that two of the things I would miss most (besides my friends of course) would be being close to the waterfront, and the bird sightings we had. The area I used to lived in was classified as a bird sanctuary, and I enjoyed watching these gorgeous creatures very much. Years ago, I wrote a post that included many pictures of the birds around the area. When I moved here I didn’t know that this area was considered a bird sanctuary as well, and I rejoiced when I saw the marking signs in town. As spring approaches, the little ones are flying in numbers, and I took some pictures which I will share on this post. Here is where I experienced for the first time what is called a mixed flock. It happened during late fall of last year, and I had no idea of what it was. I saw many types of birds flying together, some circling a dead tree covered in honeysuckle vine, and other birds landing on it. They flew in together and they were very loud, and before I had the chance to grab the camera they all left at once (flying together). I researched this and found out that some birds do that to guarantee food and protection from predators during the winter. I thought it was too early, but we had a few early cold days; however, later on we ended up having a mild winter. None the less, it was a magnificent experience that I will cherish forever. This is the picture of the tree minus the birds. I call this tree my monster tree. It is charmingly spooky in a good way. It serves well many critters, and when the honeysuckle blooms I can smell its sweet scent coming through the kitchen window. It is simply delightful.

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Photo by M.A.D.

I see crows all the time, one of my favorite birds. I named this place Mill Creek Little Trees because of the many tiny pine trees surrounding it, however, those pines have grown tall since we bought the place in 2010, and the place seems to have outgrown its name. I thought of a new name, and decided to rename it Black Crow Cottage in honor of the many crows that wander around and my love for these birds. I have many plans for gardens in this place, but that will take some time to put in place, many years that is. A couple weeks ago, hundreds of robins started to arrive, and along with crows and sandpipers ( I will miss them much) they are a favorite as well. This year, for some reason they seem skinnier.

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Photo by M.A.D.

There is a giant old tree near the kitchen entrance, and I was delighted by the sight of these birds because I had never seen them before. Their color detail is beautiful. It looks as if God had taken a small brush and painted a bit of red and yellow on them. They stayed for a while and drank water from a hole in the old tree.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M,A,D,

One more pic of these gorgeous creatures.

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Photo by M.A.D.

These birds have been coming around more and more, and they are beautiful as well. They seem to enjoy being on the ground like the robins, and along side them as well.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Enjoying a well deserved lunch.

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Photo by M.A.D.

A few blue birds have been arriving, but they are so fast and aloof that I have not been able to take a picture of them. In the meantime, this little fake blue bird will have to do for now. It would be just wonderful if one day a real blue bird would pose next to him and I was able to take the picture.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Well, this is all I have for now. I hope you enjoy these photos. I am not a photographer and I don’t know the names of most birds, but I enjoy watching and taking pictures of them.

 

 

 

A Tiny World

/ inkspeare

One of my favorite times of the year is that interim between winter and spring, that in-between, just now, when spring has not arrived and winter is giving way to it. It happens fast, almost invisible, but it is there. It is a time full of magic and discovery. Nature starts waking up slowly and everywhere you look (if you are looking) you will find a tiny wonder. To the wandering eye, everything seems dry and asleep, but to the keen eye ready to discover, a tiny world is just emerging. I just love it, and I wish to share a few pictures on this post so you can enjoy that emerging tiny world that will soon give way to spring, full blooms, and more defined natural surroundings. I hope you are inspired to go outside and look at your surroundings with different eyes, and discover your own tiny world.

Remnants of winter linger still.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Tiny plants slowly awaken from their sleep and dress in kelly green.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Tiny miracles of nature abound.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Wherever you look there is something going on.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Even where is less expected.

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Photo by M.A.D.

Every shape and hue awakens – the spring before the spring.

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Photo by M.A.D.

As above so below. Nature begins to display its beautiful hues, one tiny wonder at a time.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

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Photo by M.A.D.

And when daylight gives way to shadows, don’t forget to look up.

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Photo by M.A.D.

 

As a Reader, What Captures Your Interest, What Bores You?

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Reading is one of the simple pleasures in life. I consider it a blessing as well. I’ve loved reading since I can remember. When I was a child, I remember reading anything I could get my hands on, books, comic books, fliers, labels, signs, shampoo bottles … . When I was sick, my aunts would buy me coloring books and books, and I fondly remember a book that had colorful pictures of all kinds of animals, and a brief information about each animal. It was the first time I learned about an okapi, and an ornitorinc. Look them up, these are some of the most unusual animals on our planet. The memory of those pictures never left my mind.

When I read I don’t put a number on how many books a year I have to read. It becomes a chore and ruins the experience for me. Instead, I carefully select what I want to read, usually according to my mood. Also, I don’t hurry to read the latest best seller. I approach reading with ceremonial disposition. It is a special time, an enjoyable and pleasurable experience. To be able to transport myself to a world created by a writer’s imagination, and visualize it, almost being inside it, is something quite special and amazing, a miracle of the mind, a connection between writer/author and reader. Isn’t that wonderful?

A well written story captures my interest. One that flows effortlessly in my mind as I read, and also, one that paints vivid images, whether via description or character’s recounts. I enjoy a medium pace, not to fast, but also not so slow that I might lose interest. I have put down books and never pick them up again because I became bored reading an extremely long description in almost every other chapter or too many twists and turns that made the story “too made up” for my taste. Other readers might enjoy this, of course. I enjoy a story that has balance between description and dialog. Contrary to popular opinion, you can tell me from time to time, you don’t have to show me all the time. It becomes exhausting. As a reader, balance is the key for me. Stories that go into too much technical detail tend to bore me, unless the information is crucial for understanding the story. If the lingo is being thrown without a purpose or direct correlation, I start skipping pages. When I catch myself skipping chapters, I stop reading the book. Many years ago, I would force myself to finish a book that I was not enjoying only because I had started reading it. To reach the ending was a must, almost a sacrilege not to do it. It was pure torture. Through the years, I made peace with my reader-self and finally understood that it is fine to stop reading a book that I am not enjoying. There are many books I want to enjoy, and life is too short.

The Christmas Box Collection

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This post should have been written in January, however, I think it is never too late to praise a good read. During the Christmas season I usually read a holiday related book. Last year I read a few. I enjoyed The Christmas Box Collection by Richard Paul Evans so much that I must talk about the experience. It has been sitting on my bookshelf for some time, and finally, I was able to enjoy it. Many of you might be familiar with it since it has been around for some time, but for those of you who are not, I think it will be an enjoyable experience to read it. Although it is by no means a cheerful set of stories, these all relate to one another, and are a bit different from your regular holiday read.

The Christmas Box Collection includes three stories: The Christmas Box, Timepiece, and The Letter. I loved all three stories. I loved that these are so well written that I could not put them down. In addition, I found myself being transported to the settings and seeing everything so clear in my mind, effortlessly, and this made the reading experience more enjoyable. I also found myself immersed, enjoying the writing style of this author. It is an author that I would read again. I am not going to include on this post a summary or what each story is about because that will ruin the reader’s experience; however, I can tell you that if you want to read something different and meaningful over the Christmas season The Christmas Box Collection will not disappoint you.

Future Projects

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I should call them intentional endeavors because I would like to work on these as soon as possible, however, experience has taught me different. There is a small backlog of stories that are begging to be written and I am planning on tackling those, one by one (I am no James Patterson, and my mind can only handle one story at a time) and maybe some will end up as part of a compilation of short stories I am planning to publish. A book of poems (poetry book sounds pretentious) is another project I would like to handle in the near future. Although I have made a considerable dent on my reading backlog, I have yet to clear my shelves. A few book reviews  will be included as posts. I find that I have neglected that side. This takes me to my art, which I have neglected as well, but intend to resume, and share a bit of it on this blog. I find it so difficult to separate my interests because I see them as a whole, each fueling one another. I had purposely made this blog a writing blog, and eliminated many posts about the farmhouse restoration and other interests, and I am not sure if that was the best thing to do. I miss that part of it. If you have been with me for a while, you probably saw these disappear, and I regret not saving or printing them before deleting them for good. Oh well, those are gone.

On the home front, there are countless projects, many of which need to be finished and date back to when  I moved to Virginia. We still have work to do on this old farmhouse and its surroundings. The small potager is almost completed, but needs some more planning. The hard part is done. The garden is in what I consider the early stages, according to what I imagine it will become. Knowing the morass and wilderness it was, I should pat myself in the back (and my husband too) because we really have worked hard on it. This is obviously a long term and ongoing project. I think a place grows with you through the years, and one grows with it as well, complementing each other. A house whispers what it wants. We intend to live here for a long time so there is no rush.

I have many personal goals I would like to see to fruition, and these are just that, personal. They range from personal development, education, wants, and other. My point is that all these things take a considerable amount of time, money, and effort. Some are implemented right away while others take years to materialize, and I must learn to recognize the difference. I used to make life maps from time to time. Months ago, I found an old map I had created many years ago (more than a decade). When I looked at it I was pleasantly surprised. Most of the things on that map had become reality, and according to it I was where I was supposed to be. I had forgotten about it. On this map things where scheduled to happen faster, but in reality they took much longer. However, the outcome was the same. This made me reflect on something very important. It is all about vision and faith, speed and time are relative, and these adjust accordingly. So many times we chastise ourselves (I am guilty of it) when life doesn’t go at the speed of our dreams and planning, and we end up feeling sad, frustrated, disappointed, disillusioned, and even as failures. Society tells us to achieve, multitask, perform like an octopus in fast wheels, and shapes our minds from an early age. When we fall short according to this timing and expectation, we blame ourselves, sometimes by being to harsh and even unkind. Many people keep going at that speed until the end, others crash along the way, while other souls learn to apply the brakes from time to time, and even take the scenic/panoramic way along with rest stops.

A day has 24 hours, one’s life has none defined. Longevity is a mystery and no one is guaranteed another day. If we happen to live it, it is a wonder in itself.

 

Have We Forgotten?

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Fiction – A product of the imagination. The category of literature with imaginary characters and events, including novels, short stories, etc. (American Heritage Dictionary)

Secondary Themes

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When I wrote The Five-dollar Miracle, I recognized the main theme as being faith, and much like the story I am currently writing – The Girl Who Could Not Love – the story developed as I wrote, with no preconceived ideas or outlines. However, as I wrote, the main theme became obvious. Usually, one expects a story to follow or develop around a main theme, and a few secondary themes appear throughout, but mostly, the main theme carries the story to the end. With The Five-dollar Miracle, I was a bit surprised at how many secondary themes I could identify once I finished writing it. It was never intended this way, but all these themes had a strong link with the main one (faith), and helped carry it, propelled it, which of course worked out well for the story. Some of these topics are:

Loss – different types, especially the loss of a loved one.

Financial ruin

Addiction

Righteousness – as a judgemental trait

The spirit of cooperation/generosity/kindness

Respect thy neighbor – accepting differences

Serendipity

I enjoyed writing The Five-dollar Miracle, and it was a welcomed change of pace, as well as refreshing. I am excited about my next novel, and can’t wait to finish it. From my point of view as a writer, it is presenting its challenges, something I welcome, while at the same time, I am hoping that the story flows well, and that by the end, I make peace with it.

Home Sweet Home

/ inkspeare

Today, I find myself wishing for spring, even summer, unusual for a winter lover. I yearn for the sounds and warmth of summer. It usually takes me about four to five years to acclimate well to a new place or new surroundings. It may seem a lot of time for many people, but for me to call a place home that seems to be right. Although I welcome change, I am a bit set on my ways and my memories. The concept of home has always been very important to me. I need my four walls, and I make sure they feel cozy and beautiful to me. My husband seems to adapt fairly fast, and I think it has to do with our upbringing. While I lived in the same house until I got married, he moved many times during his childhood.

I love the phrase Home Sweet Home, but I also admire people who travel and can feel at home in any place around the world. I can honestly say that I feel at home now, although I will always miss my beloved Jersey shore. This way of adaptation translates to other things in life for me, although at different time frames. When I start a new novel, there is a period of time in which I have not yet fully adapted to the story. The time varies with each novel. It takes me some time to acclimate/bond with the story. What I find is that I cannot rush this process; it happens naturally. Once I am in sync with it I feel at home. Then, I can “settle in” and “decorate” the place with my pen.

Home is where the heart is, the adage says, but I think the tic-toc of the heart determines when it becomes home.

New Novel Update

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I am currently writing The Girl Who Could Not Love. I am only a few chapters in, and it already seems as if this story will present its challenges. Not so much about writing it, but instead, on the road it is taking me so far. It is one that is new to me, and one which I am not comfortable with as it deals with the main character’s state of mind/heart/soul from the get go. I had no intention to take that route but I will trust the process and be open to it. I have sensed a resistance to write it, and I am wondering why. At the same time, I feel a sense of discovery and excitement mixed with apprehension. For the sake of writing this story and of being faithful to the process, I have decided to put aside my reserves and continue on the journey, as far and deep as the pen wants to take me.

I wish I could tell you more about it but I am discovering it as I write. For the first time I find myself at the mercy of my pen, and I am willing to follow it in faith, if not blindly.

Faith – A confident belief; trust. Loyalty; allegiance. (American Heritage Dictionary)