Archive for

April, 2011

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April 28, 2011 8:30 pm

It is the Little Moments

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by Betty Thompson    in Back When, Daily Survivor, Unravelling The Petals of Life

My Dad June 19 1929 –  April 20 2005

The two of them passed by the hostess station arm in arm, her small hand curled around his elbow in a delicate grip. He wore a proud smile on his pale yellow face as his slim frame crept on by. She patiently led him to the dinner table with a sparkle of love and understanding in her eye. As I watched in hungry admiration deep within the wall of my chest a piece of heart melted. I thought how blessed the middle-aged gal was to have her dad around to take to dinner. I smiled as they passed by our table when old memories waltzed like the dinner wine through my head.

I heard her high spirited voice say, “Daddy look who’s here!” I snapped my head around to the back of the restaurant to capture a glimpse of the joy.“ Do you know who she is Daddy?” ” Daddy do you remember Rose?” Apparently, Rose lived next door to them in their old neighborhood.

Bittersweet teardrops beaded my cheek as I dabbed them away on the soft pink dinner napkin hoping the other patrons wouldn’t notice sentimental me. In the moment how I longed to walk arm and arm to dinner with my father. It’s the everyday simple moments such as this, which surface and envelope the heart sweeping me back in time when my dad and I shared a father and daughter dinner date.

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April 20, 2011 10:54 pm

Enamored in Light & Joy

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by Betty Thompson    in Daily Survivor, Nature, Wildlife

The morning is overcast in gray with a soft mist of rain. The air is cold for an April spring day. Outside the studio window colorful birds alike rainbow burst, flock to the feeder. Others clutch with hunger thru the fallen cracked seed strewn about, like tipped over breakfast granola across the kitchen floor.

The Architect and I are totally transfixed by the variety of birds roosting in the yard this year. So much so, the spirit of studio chatter thru out the day has become, “Oh look look look!”  “Did you hear that, sounds like an Owl?” “Honey, quick quick get your camera, look what’s out here!” All the rush of activity is so awe-inspiring, and such a welcomed delight after the long winter months.

In the up and coming weeks I hope to get a few snaps, of the artistry involved in the ornamental molding of the Chickadee’s nest; pretty amazing!

Have a blessed week and stay well my friend!

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April 14, 2011 8:15 pm

When I was five…

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by Betty Thompson    in Back When, Daily Survivor, Unravelling The Petals of Life

There were fireflies, butterflies and little cocoons.

In warm summer rain, night crawlers slithered thru small fingers.

Lovers leap swimming hole smelled of skunk cabbage, thick rope swing dangled from oak tree.

Pail of polliwogs, salt shaker for leaches on legs.

One foot hopped square-to-square, bouncing red rubber ball and star-shaped jacks.

Glossy marbles flared along smooth ground rolled into dirt hole.

Double dutch jump rope, buckle on roller skates.

Dodge ball, kick the can, and flashlight tag.

Flattened out pennies on the railroad track.

Longhaired trolls on wooden sailboats floated in the creek.

Peanut butter and jelly picnic under the weeping willow with Mother Goose & Nursery Rhyme.

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April 10, 2011 5:11 pm

Walking with Mother Nature

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by Betty Thompson    in Daily Survivor, Nature, Wildlife

Mother Nature went a little bipolar on us New Englanders, when it snowed the first day of spring and again on April fools day, leaving us all wondering if and when spring would ever come around. These past few days have brought a real touch of spring with warm bright sunshine and clear blue sky. Trees are budding, flowers blossoming with new life and a choir of songbirds roost.

Creatively I’ve been in a downward spiral stuck in a rut just feeling blah, and unmotivated one of the glitches that happen up on us all. A time when we have to lift up and push foreward to go beyond the act of just “Being,” and get up and get motivated in the process of becoming.

So I went for a walk down the road to the bog I hadn’t visited in awhile. All the winter ice had faded away the spring water now painted in reflection of bare but budding shrubs and branches, dried golden cattails stood tall where the water rushed over the beaver dam. Surrounded by tall pines the earth’s floor was covered in a thick cushion of pine needles. A relaxing spot to just sit in peace breathing it all in, letting the mind freely wonder connecting with nature. Here are a few snaps from my walk:


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April 6, 2011 11:00 pm

In Silence an Artist Shadow

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by Betty Thompson    in Daily Survivor, literary

Foolish little girl
in the eyes of the nobody
mocked at by the idea
in silence dreamed.

Her garden a sacred retreat
embraced in natures fertile soil
a breath of new life blossoms.

Memories in photos
of all that unfolds
sat day and night
finished with words.

–– Betty L Thompson

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