The 7 Degrees of Bright

It has been raining almost every day, except for the days Ms. Nimblethreads visited. Even then I think it rained some, but she brought with her sunshine. Wasn't very warm though and that leaves me wondering if it will ever get warm here. Even rain is OK if it is a warm rain.

Despite the grayness a lot of flowering trees have blossomed out. Very pretty in a soft way against the grey-blue sky. The camelia is covered in cherry red blooms and they are falling off now so it looks like red flowers blooming on the ground in front of our house. Yesterday I saw two yellow things in the way back and thought they were scraps of paper that had blown in. I trudged back bundled against the wind and the soggy ground (the grass is too tall to mow in one pass) and found out they were daffodils!

All the grey has lead me to meditate on what I callThe 7 Degrees of Bright.Perhaps it should be especially in reference to Portland, although it may have no geographic boundaries. Bright sun hurts Portlanders' eyes after a winter of gray. It's just a fact. And it takes a bit to adjust.

My idea of brightness is this: with 7 being the brightness of God and 6 the brightness of sun reflecting off the ocean or snow; 5 is a bright, sunny day with few clouds in the sky. 4 is the artificial brightness of headlights from oncoming cars at just a certain angle or turning on the bathroom light in the middle of the night. 3, 2, and 1 are the subtle variations of a Portland day.

For example, today the brightness is at 3 degrees - certainly gray outside, but with a crisp whitish sky. 1 is the murky dark ecru of daylight in the rain with just enough light to let you know it's daytime. That leave 2. The other day I experienced 2 as I sat in a parking lot waiting for the rain to subside enough to run into Goodwill. The rain was gray, the clouds were several shades of gray with a bit of grayish white. And then there was a fine strip of blue that radiated with 2 degrees of brightness - BEATIFIC and exilerating even at a mere 2 degrees. Ah, God is good.

Saint Joan of Arc

Today is St. Joan of Arc's feast day. She holds a special place in some hearts like mine. Maybe it's because my baptismal certificate says my middle name is Joan. (Birth certificate says it's Joanne) Maybe it's the image of a strong girl. Not far from here is a round-about with a life size statue of Joan on her horse errected after WWI by veterans. She is gilded in bright gold. She's beautiful.

The internet has some crazy web sites and depictions of her. I searched and these are my favorites. Some I have seen via Fireling who visited Rouen, the town where she was burned at the stake. I especially love the image of St. Theresa, the little flower, dressed as Joan in a convent play.

Live With Courage!

The Day Before the Day Before the Day Before Christmas

Blue and I just returned from a long, wet walk into the woods. This morning was spent wrapping and packing a box for Brother Bear and Sweet Sis. To reward us, I bundled up in two sweat shirts, clogs, and a rain jacket and grabbed my binoculars, ready to head off for the walk. Blue was so excited she almost had a melt-down anxiously skipping around waiting for me to finish dressing. We went down through the pasture and deeper into the woods than usual. This is my favorite time of year to walk there because the grass and blackberry brambles have all died away and you can see where you're putting your feet if you go off the main path. That is important to people who wear Birkenstocks most of the time. Also the deer and other small animals have cut trails through the woods that are just perfect for following. Yesterday we heard an owl. It's the first time I've heard one out here. Just once around noon, then several times toward evening. We went to the part of the woods where we saw an owl last spring - as if yesterday's owl would be sitting on the same branch! But no luck seeing anything other than the beautiful colors of trees against a cloudy sky, bowed down light orange field-grasses, and crystal drops of rain reflecting off fence lines.

It's the time of year to look for antler sheds. I tried really hard to find one last year and it seems almost impossible. There are so many fallen twigs and branches that look like antlers, that it is like finding a four-leaf clover in a field of clover. The thing is, I'm good at finding four-leaf clovers! I think all I have to do is find my first antler shed and then I'll be able to find more. They say the deer shed their antlers after mating and hunting season when their testosterone is lowering. I've been told that the little woodland creatures need calcium so much that the antlers are scarfed up and eaten right away. And I read a great gimick in Field & Stream which says to put cracked corn at the inside angle of a fence corner, so that when the deer bend down to nibble, their antlers will get caught in the fence and drop off. As we walked and looked, it dawned on me that the antlers are sort of like baby teeth. They get loose and could drop off anywhere. They tell you to look for places where the deer might jump over a fence or rub up against a tree. I suddenly realized why I haven't found any...I think there is a tooth deer. Like our tooth fairies, there is probably a tooth deer - most likely a tooth reindeer because they fly, of course - who swoops down and grabs each fallen antler quicker than a wink. I'm not sure what they would leave in return (like the quarters under our pillows), but I will give it some thought.

It was a peaceful way to spend the day before the day before the day before Christmas. Once I realized I couldn't get everything Christmasy done, I was able to relax and appreciate the Season. I even had a chance to meditate a bit on the Nativity and reading Matthew's Gospel. I also looked at a book, B is for Bethlehem, a children's book by Isabel Wilner, illustrated with wonderful scenes by Elisa Kleven. I got it at Powell's Book Store last weekend thinking I'd give it as a gift. But I think SIE is too old for it, and I'm definitely not, so I think I'll keep it for myself!

Advent's Almost Over

A beautiful sunny day today. It was chilly and rainy and full of morning mist, but the sun kept shining through it all. Even if one side of the sky had dark grey clouds, the sun shone on the fields and trees. Everything sparkled. Is it four days till Christmas Eve? How can that be. I still have gifts to wrap and cards to send and prayers to say! I heard and read something about Christmas that was a new angle for me. A Poor Clare from Spokane wrote in a Christmas letter, and heard on an NPR commentary: People often complain that Christmas is too commercialized and that stores put out their decorations earlier each year. But without the economic factor of Christmas, our religious celebrations would be rather incidental and the holiday not much more than a Lincoln's or Washington's birthday. Since Christmas has the big economic influence, we can have music and lights and occasions of public good will all throughout Advent and on into the Christmas Season. The trick is, to see the meaning of Christ's coming inside all the activity; be aware and conscious of the connection between the symbols all around us. For example, see the lights as symbols of the Light of Christ, hear the music that is uniquely heralding the coming of the Lord, join in the public demonstrations of generosity to the poor. Well, that makes Christmas preparations more fun for me!

Full Moon Rising

Driving into La Center yesterday around 3:00 in the afternoon, I came to a spot about 8 miles from the farm when the full moon appeared, huge and white, rising over Mt. St. Helen's. Mt. St. Helen's is white now, too, with gray creases veining down its sides. I wished I could rush home and grab my camera, but knew that by the time I returned to this spot the moon would have climbed beyond this moment.

In the middle of the night I woke up for a minute and looked outside to see if any deer were around. It was so bright. Almost like a new fallen snow. With hat on and coat over my pajamas, Blue and I went out for a walk. The moon was high and the sky was a pale blue with whisps of cloud that made me wonder if they were the northern lights. And there were stars, bright and clear despite the light. Orion stretched out right over the pasture. The moon light cast shadows and the air was soft and quiet. The ground was frozen, but not icy. Frozen just enough to feel like the ground was firm under your feet. Good thing because my head was enveloped in an alien breath. I hoped there would be deer down in the pasture but not a creature was stirring. My bed was still warm when we returned. We'd never even turned on a light.

Saints Among Us

Driving downtown Thanksgiving morning the streets were noticably empty. There were a few homeless people sleeping on the downtown sidewalks - always sad to see esp. when the weather is wet and cold. There was a long line in front of one of the Missions - maybe waiting for a Thanksgiving meal. It seemed like the only other people on the street were coming to Mass.

I was glad to be at the Downtown Chapel. It reminds me of Cincinnati's Drop Inn Center. Inside the chapel there are no windows. Except for 14 small plaques of the Stations along the back wall and simple seasonal decoration behind the altar, the walls are plain white. The pews are in a semi-circle around the altar with a piano/organ to the left. The altar is up a couple steps higher than the main floor, much like the podium and TV at the Drop Inn Center. You can see why I felt at home when I first came here 4 years ago.

The congregation was small. I counted 30 all together. But the people who attended are people that make you wonder about the existance of a "holy underground". There are a couple old men with walkers and a single mom with her 10 yr. old son. There were a couple homeless people with their bags containing all their possessions, sometimes sitting quietly alone, sometimes praying aloud in tongues. And there's one old woman, tall and lean, dressed always in black with ankle length skirts and what we used to call "nunny shoes". I've seen her often on the streets and at the cathedral, too. Where do they all live? What draws them here? Especially on this quiet morning with thanks in our hearts?

In Which Miss Ingu Ponders Life

I have a new theory on life and original sin. I think sometimes the soul is given a gift to see things that origional sin usually blocks from our sight. Like looking for a moment above a mist to the clearing, maybe not understanding why at the time, but maybe in hindsight. I talked to a friend on Sunday night. It had been a while since we talked and we visited on the phone for a while. She sounded good, which made me feel good. I got the news yesterday that she died Tuesday afternoon. It was a sudden thing, probably a pleural effusion, and I'm glad she died quickly. She had suffered a lot in her life even though she was still quite young. I haven't cried yet, but I feel that will come in time - there's a fragile ache in the back of my throat that I think is the grief waiting. But this has happened to me before. This talking to someone and then they unexpectedly die shortly after. The chance to talk on these occassions has been a blessing to me. God is good. I do wonder if He grants our souls this reprieve from the cloud of sin to know to take the moment to join with another soul that is a kindred spirit.