A Day in June

“And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days”

James Russell Lowell

 

I remember memorizing this poem by 19th century Romantic poet, James Russell Lowell, in my freshman high school English class for Miss Frye. This morning when I walked out the door for my morning walk to the park, the true essence of the poem caught me … it's taken quite a few years for the impact to hit. Lowell was born here in New England and must have experienced the very same feeling I did this morning in order to capture it the way he did, so very simply, in his writing.

 

james russell lowell

 

There was a light breeze. The temperature was lovely … warm, but not hot … no sweater needed. Filtered sun in a broken blue sky warmed my back, but didn't burn. Earlier in the season, perhaps it would have been too cool at this time of day or the flowers wouldn't have bloomed yet. Later in the season, the heat and humidity will be oppressive. But this day in June …this day was perfect. I could have walked forever, but I had to keep stopping because every time I visit Bird Park there's always something new and different to see and I hate to miss a thing. Some days I go two or three times. Turtles were out of the pond and laying eggs today. I saw two rather large snappers dragging their heavy, clumsy, not-designed-for-land bodies up a hill and digging holes in the soft dirt to deposit their eggs. Laborious efforts to procreate.

 

turtle laying eggs

 

I could hear a woodpecker somewhere nearby. Robins, ravens, sparrows, chicadees and blackbirds all added to the morning chorus. The soft cooing of mourning doves could be heard when the other birds took a break. I walked by some birdhouses away from the main path and barn swallows had taken up residence. They weren't keen on my being too close and swooped down a few times to make their feelings known.

 

awallow on bird house

 

The geese and ducks were preening and planning their day. Some lay along the edge of the pond. Others urged their young ones into the water for a morning swim. The goslings are growing most noticeably. Most have lost their yellow down feathers and have gained significant weight and size in the last week or so. I try to give them plenty of distance, but this morning they were heading right for me and finally just went around me when I didn't move … no hissing involved.

 

here come the geese

 

There aren't many ducks around … only one mallard that I've seen. He comes and goes at will. One female has a duckling and another has two. I seldom see them in the same pond although you'd think they'd enjoy each other's company once in awhile. I think the geese have pretty much taken over the area with all their goslings and the ducks seem to be low on the pond hierarchy and keep to themselves.

 

duck and duckling

 

A pair of herons sit sentry in one of the two ponds every day. This morning only one was around. He stood stock still, watching for breakfast and nabbed a fish in the blink of an eye. The fish was down his gullet and the heron resumed his statue-pose without the slightest hesitation.

 

heron with fish

 

Wild multiflora roses are in bloom now. Their fragrance is so sweet as it wafts on the breeze. I catch a whiff of it as I'm walking past and it's hard not to smile. Laurel are beginning to bloom, too. The smells mingle with the freshly cut grass on the manicured lawns. Omnipresent dandelion and hawkweed cover parts of the unmown hill and certain areas have been left to grow tall grasses.

 

multiflora rose

 

I sat on a cement park bench for a few minutes just to appreciate it all. Carpe diem … especially those “diems” in June.

Is it Spring yet?

The weatherman is still predicting snow showers. Snow showers are NOT April showers in my book even though they happen to occur in April. Though the crocus and daffodils shoots are beginning to poke through the ground and it actually hit 50F (10C) yesterday, it doesn't really feel like Spring yet at all. The nighttime temps still dip into the 20's (-3C) and puddles are still frozen over with skim ice in the early mornings.  

ground hog

 

I read that a lawsuit was filed against Punxsutawney Phil this year by a winter-weary lawyer. For non-Americans, Phil is a groundhog that resides in Punxsutawney, PA and is the official prognosticator of Spring. On February 2nd each year (Groundhog's Day), he peeks his head out of his borough and if he sees his shadow, there's six more weeks of winter. This year, he did NOT see his shadow and predicted that Spring was just around the “corner”. Unfortunately, the “corner” has been covered in snow drifts lately and though Spring has officially arrived on the calendar, you certainly can't prove it by me. Phil, did get off the hook because his handler admits to misinterpreting “groundhog-ese”.

I did see my first robin the other day, a sure sign that Spring has sprung. I haven't, however, felt like hauling short sleeved shirts out of the closet nor have I given up wearing warm socks. Springtime in New England is a beautiful time of year. I just wish it would get here.

 

robins

 

By the way, American robins and Australian robins are very different looking. Do robins signal the arrival of Spring down under? I don't know. And speaking of down under, is it starting to feel like autumn there?

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Rites of Spring - Ostara

UU church  

My sister, Lin, is a witch. No, you didn't misread that. She's a witch and her earth-centered group, a coven, if you will, met a couple of nights ago to celebrate Ostara, the return of Spring. Ostara aka Eastre or Ēostre in Old English was a pre-8th century German pagan goddess associated with the celebration of Easter. I'm always fascinated with the origins of traditional holidays. Though many holidays have been adopted into traditional religious calendars, their origins usually trace back to natural yearly occurrences. It only made sense for me to accompany her to the celebration. The historic UU church in Milton was a lovely venue for the evening meeting.

 

altar

 

When we talk about witches here, we're not talking brooms, black magic and animal sacrifice. I've been to several Wiccan meetings with Lin over the years. They revolve around celebrating nature, especially the change of seasons. The Sun, the Moon, the directions of the compass, the elements of fire, water, air, fire and aether (spirit, that which unites them) ... these all play a major role in the ritual circle celebration. As an “unaffiliated” attendee, I find it fascinating to participate and I'm always welcomed into the circle.

Witchcraft got a bad rap along the way, I think. Historically, when certain phenomenon could not be explained or someone knew the uses and healing nature of herbs and plants, it was easy to label it witchcraft. Then, of course, if you could swim in the early 1600's, that was a sure sign of the presence of witchcraft. Hang 'em high, press them, drown them.

 

 

feast

 

The ceremony consisted of the participants sitting in a circle. A simple altar was laid with wine, pussy willows and seeds sharing the main places of honor. There were readings about the myth of Demeter and Persephone, then some discussion of Spring as the season of renewal and rebirth. We planted seeds, symbolic of the season. We toasted with wine. We feasted. We enjoyed each other's company.

This was a fine way to welcome in the new season ... pagan or otherwise.

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