"Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; hate less, love more; and all good things are yours."
- swedish proverb
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
by Emily Dickinson
Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
IF I were a s tall as they?
Has it feet like water-lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from famous countries?
Of which I have never heard?
Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
Oh, some wise man, from the skies!
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies.
"In fact, attention is of value only insofar as it is paid in the proper discharge of an obligation. To pay attention is to come into the presence of a subject. In one of its root sense, it is to 'stretch toward' a subject, in a kind of aspiration. We speak of 'paying attention' because of a correct perception that attention is owed - that without our attention and attending, our subjects, including ourselves, are endangered." Wendell Berry
by Helen Hunt Jackson
The golden-rod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
The gentian’s bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.
The sedges flaunt their harvest,
In every meadow nook;
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook.
From dewy lanes at morning
the grapes’ sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer’s best of weather,
And autumn’s best of cheer.
But none of all this beauty
Which floods the earth and air
Is unto me the secret
Which makes September fair.
‘T is a thing which I remember;
To name it thrills me yet:
One day of one September
I never can forget.
"Washing" by John Drinkwater
What is all this washing about,
Every day, week in, week out?
From getting up till going to bed,
I'm tired of hearing the same thing said.
Whether I'm dirty of whether I'm not,
Whether the water is cold or hot,
Whether I like or whether I don't
Whether I will or whether I won't--
"Have you washed your hands,
And washed your face?"
I seem to live in the washing-place.
Whenever I go for a walk or ride,
As soon as I put my nose inside
The door again, there's some one there
With a sponge and soap, and a lot they care
If I have something better to do,
"Now wash your face and your fingers too."
Before a meal is ever begun,
And after ever a meal is done,
It's time to turn on the waterspout.
Please, what is all this washing about?
Three adult turkeys and six young crossed our yard. Where there used to be trees across the road, a developer denuded last spring. Are the turkeys just more visible now or are they feeling lost? Passing cars, even joggers along the sidewalk don't seem to notice, non-plussed. It is hard to know what to do about our planet's wounds. Fires of record-breaking magnitude have been burning in California this week. I come across the following:
" A wrong attitude toward nature implies, somewhere, a wrong attitude to God, and the consequence is an inevitable doom." T.S. Eliot
"God doesn't like a clearcut. It makes his heart turn cold, makes him wince and wonder what went wrong with creation, and sets him to thinking about what spoils the child.
You'd better be pretty sure that the cut is absolutely necessary and be at peace with it, so you can explain it to God, for it's fairly certain he's going to question your motives, want to know if your children are hungry and your oldest boy needs asthma medicine. -" Janisse Ray
A wee explanation: this website was created as a way to amplify the daily surprise of seeing glory in one small life. The notebook entries represented here are all selected from things actually lived and noted on paper in an effort to live the full life British educator Charlotte Mason so ably championed.
Book Of Centuries
Book Of Firsts