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To swim, simply to swim

This is not me.

I grew up on a lake in the back woods of Rhode Island. Summers meant daily swimming. Winters could have meant daily skating, but skating was/is more of a production, especially since we also had a dog who would take our shoes when we left them at the edge of the ice...

In my last days at home before leaving for college, I swam across the lake. It wasn't such a great distance, but for me it was a lot.  I had always been more of a paddler than a bona fide swimmer. I had progressed beyond the dog paddle, but only to the crawl, with head above water. (I didn't want to have to open up my eyes under the water and glimpse the various fish, snakes, and general lake gunk under me as I swam.)

Then, I didn't swim for twenty-five years. I think that it took moving to a desert to realize how much water and being in water meant to me.

Two summers ago, I started again. This time in a pool. I rapidly made progress, swimming an hour of laps daily.

It's a meditative experience. Sometimes I just count the laps. Other times, I let my mind wander, thinking on the day's issues and the meaning of life. The pool is a great place to go if you're feeling emotional. No one can see tears if you're immersed in water, especially if you've got goggles on...

When I leave the pool, I feel an interesting mix of tired, rested...and strong. Sometimes I'm conscious that, yes,  I am walking on my legs again, that, yes, I'm breathing air again.

As I think about how swimming makes me feel I think of mermaids...

Mermaid digression:
The mermaid--or, rather, the idea/mythology of the mermaid--interests me. If I were to research the topic further, I know I'd find a treasure trove of stories from all over the world. I'm just scratching the surface here, but we all know the basic mythology: they lured unsuspecting sailors and ships to death, or at least to danger. They could be quite blood thirsty, too. Here is a story I like from Scotland: The Laird of Lorntie was returning from a hunting excursion one night when he passed a lake and heard and saw a beautiful female scream for help because she seemed to be drowning...and here I will switch to my source since he describes it so well:

The laird, unable to resist the impulse of humanity, rushed into the lake, and was about to grasp the long yellow locks of the lady which lay like hanks of gold upon the water, when he was suddenly seized behind...by his servant, who, farther-sighted than his master, perceived the whole affair to be the feint of a water-spirit. 'Bide, Lorntie--bide a blink! That wauling madam was nae other, God sauf us! than the mermaid,'...confirmed by the mermaid raising herself half out of the water, and exclaiming, in a voice of fiendish disappointment and ferocity: 'Lorntie, Lorntie, Were it na your man, I had gart your heart's bluid Skirl in my pan.'

[Translation: 'Lorntie, if it hadn't been for your servant, I would have your bloody heart singing in my pan.'] (Chambers, Robert. (1870). Popular Rhymes of Scotland, Edinburgh: W.&R. Chambers, p. 333.)

Ach! Weh! Alas. As I think about the mermaid, I think as so: it's interesting that a creature (myth though she is) who embodies tremendous freedom, and, really, such tremendous power, represents such danger to man. It's also interesting that in the telling of the story, the mermaid lures the man with a masquerade of feminine frailty...ah well, what I want to say about this is not fully formed yet.  I will think about it more.

In the meantime, I have to rush off to a rehearsal.

P.S. If you're a wind player, swimming does wonders for the breath control. ;)

Three-faces-under-a-hood...

...or...
Heartsease,
Cuddle-me-to-you,
Johnny-jump-up,
Kiss-me-at-the-garden-gate:
All names for the Pansy.

The name 'pansy' is derived from the French for "thought," pensée. Je pense que pansies are lovely. The flower resembles a human face. In August, when the weather is hot, the face nods forward as if deep in thought.  Here are some pansy-related items I have come across:

1. One of my favorites from Walter Crane's Flowers from Shakespeare's Garden, 1906. I had a copy of this book as a teenager. I feel so lucky to have found it digitized on Google Books! (Google Books, I love you.)

2. I thought this one was an interesting complement to the Crane drawing. (These flower babies were very big in the '90s.)

Pansies, Anne Geddes

3. With this poem, Herrick refers to the Elizabethans and their idea that pansies eased the love-sick heart in their association with pure love, or love in its highest form. (Called unspoilt love. Isn't the spoiling one of the fun parts of love? Hah.)

TO PANSIES.
by Robert Herrick

AH, cruel love ! must I endure
Thy many scorns and find no cure ?
Say, are thy medicines made to be
Helps to all others but to me ?
I'll leave thee and to pansies come,
Comforts you'll afford me some ;
You can ease my heart and do
What love could ne'er be brought unto.

4. And...another poetic example. I don't know. I like pansies just fine and my view isn't changed at all by their possible chimp resemblance. Chimps are very cute, especially when they act like people.

How to tell the birds from the flowers and other wood-cuts, 1917.

  

   5. And, O'Keeffe...

White Pansy, Georgia O'Keeffe, 1927

Branches

Woke up to snow this morning: a sudden return to winter. I love the snow on the branches, the resulting tangle as they spread from the various trees in our yard--Aspen, Hibiscus, Honeylocust...

Aspen and friends

For the past few weeks, I've been noticing the tree branches as we move from winter into spring. I think that I actually prefer bare branches to leafed ones. I know that my favorite time is when the trees just start to produce the leaves, when they're still new green and tiny.

Lilac leaves sprouting last week

To have snow on branches now, of course, with their new buds is a hindrance to the plant, but the snow will probably melt soon enough. Maybe it will wake the buds, like a cold shower before facing the hard work of pushing out the leaves...

Magnolia at dusk yesterday

As I think about trees I think about how omnipresent they are in our lives, our history: tree of life, tree of knowledge, family tree...

UNDER a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

Tree branches. They hold the leaves, nests, swings, bird feeders, lights. You can cut a branch, but another will grow, and another, reaching toward the sky, spreading toward each other.

Sending out invisible branches of kitty brotherhood.

(Of course, I had to get the cat picture in. That's just me.)

FAQ

Q: Are you some type of cat lady?

A #1: No. My cats are just part of the family. I suppose I could be a little more into them now that my two children are in college, but I'm a long way from cat lady-dom! Sheesh.

A #2: I like animals in general. I plan to live with many animals, like sheep, goats, etc. when I retire from the world to a nice plot of land where I will run an Early Music commune.

A #3: Like many people, I like to anthropomorphize my pets, and other animals. I know that animals aren't really people, but, they have their own little individual personalities. The conversations are somewhat one-sided, but sometimes that suits me just fine.

Q: OK, so you're not a cat lady; but you seem to have a lot of time to waste writing these blog entries. What's the deal with that?

A: It's true. I'm busy. All I can say is I spend buckets of time writing "worky-work" type of stuff: professional e-mails, reports, etc. I feel the need to let some creative-ish verbage out, so I started up the blog again. That's all.

Q: So, what do you plan on writing about?

A: Oh, anything and everything. I love my cats,  Early Music, literature, growing things for the garden, etc. Occasionally I may be able to merge some of my interests...as in this picture below... :)

The sun is shining, the cats are playing...

Happiness. I can't help it. Are thy cute or what?

Three for Friday

1. We woke up to Nuages, from Debussy's Nocturnes for Orchestra. Such a nice way to start the day--if you can get up after that, of course. I found a performance on YouTube by...the YouTube Symphony Orchestra. Great idea--sounds like a good orchestra.


2. Today is the first day of April and April is National Poetry Month. I've been reading Jane Hirshfield lately. I am in love.

3. Did I say there were three?

~~~

(Silly me.)

April....Fools!

~~~