Category Archives: Uncategorized

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On the Brink of School

“What do you want to do on the last weekend before school starts?” Kurt asked me this past Saturday morning.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Let me think about it.”

This is a tougher question than it may seem. I’ve definitely felt the ratcheting up of tension over the past week–the feeling of the walls closing in and everything funneling inexorably toward the onset of the tyranny of the school year. Did I want to do something big and bold or something low-key and relaxed?

After thinking for a while, I suggested, “Why don’t we get up early tomorrow and go to Morse Mountain?”

“Sure,” Kurt said, “Why don’t we take a picnic?”

“Perfect!” I said.

Saturday was busy with errands and some family visits, but we tucked in time to swing by the store and pick up some goodies for our upcoming picnic: baguette, goat cheese, apples, grapes, etc. I couldn’t remember the last time I had even been on a picnic, and my anticipation was mounting.

“This is such a great idea!” I said more than once to Kurt.

On Sunday we were packed and out the door by shortly after 8 am. Morse Mountain is one of our favorite places along the Maine coast. You hike about two miles in and are then rewarded with an amazing stretch of pristine beach. The distance to the beach, along with limited parking, means that it is never crowded and it is always beautiful.

We set off cheerfully, picnic foods and blanket stowed in our backpacks. We hiked up and down through forest and past a few marshy areas. We detoured up for a scenic view from the summit, and then traveled back down toward the beach.

Finally, the trail opened up from forest to oceanside. As soon as I set foot on the beach, I knew we’d done the right thing. It felt as if my whole being simply expanded along with the view. It was the perfect place to be. An antidote to all things closed-in and constricting.

“This,” I said to Kurt, gesturing at the scene before us. “This is what I’m going to picture in the coming weeks and months, whenever I feel like I’m starting to frazzle and unravel.”

We set off, walking barefoot along the shore. A huge raft of some kind of ducks was floating along, a dark mass of bodies, moving parallel to the shore. There had to be hundreds of them! Next, we were delighted to see dozens of seal heads popping in and out of the water. The sun was warm on our skin, but there was a hint of chill in the breeze. The skies were cobalt blue, and the small bits and bobs abandoned by the receding tide yielded lots of treasures, and created fascinating patterns. Every so often we stopped to pick up sand dollars (mostly in pieces) and shells. We let the sound of the surf and our splashing feet wash over us.

Over and over again I thought, “Yes, this is where I need to be right now.”

After a long hunger-ripening walk, we stopped to spread our blanket and set up our picnic. Reclining on the sand, we stared at the ocean and chatted about this and that. Mostly we just soaked up the sun and the view.

“It’s going to be hard to leave,” I finally said, after we were done eating.

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed.

Eventually, heaving a few sighs, we packed up. Then, after one long backward glance at the ocean, we turned toward the trailhead and the two-mile return hike.

It was time to get going.

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Pondering My Vision

I’ve been overly focused on my eyes lately. On seeing. On not seeing.

Late this past April my retina tore. Surgery followed and my vision was regained–mostly. My right pupil remains dilated, which is normal–up to a point. It may still recover. It may not. I’m nearing the border between optimism and realism on that front.

The retinal surgery is traumatic to the eye, and kickstarts cataract growth. While planning for that next surgery to my right eye, the doctor discovered I was overachieving–having naturally created another less severe but surgery-qualifying cataract in my left eye.

The right eye surgery wasn’t debatable, and I had that completed a few weeks ago. At my follow up appointment, I was unsure if I wanted to have the left eye done, though I had, at the doctor’s suggestion, already scheduled it for the following week. “You can always cancel it,” he’d told me.

I debated the pros and cons with the tech for quite some time. Finally, she handed me a pad of paper.

“Close your left eye and look at this,” she said.

I did.

“What color is it?”

“White,” I said.

“Ok, now close your right eye and look at it,” she said. “What color is it?”

My jaw dropped. “Whoa! It’s sepia!” I said.

I suddenly saw what I hadn’t even known I was seeing. Or not seeing.

So, the following week I had the second cataract surgery on my left eye.

A few days after that, my husband called me to the window. “Look at all the blue jays!” he said. “I’ve never seen so many together!”

I looked out the window at a dozen or more jays crowding the feeder, scattered across the lawn, and breaking off to fly up into the nearby trees. “Wow! They are so blue right now!” I said, wondering about the afternoon light and how it was creating that impression. Until I realized it wasn’t just the light, it was my “restored” vision. I sat for long moments drinking in the vibrant blues.

These days I perch on the edge of returning to school and its relentless pace, and I am also more and more aware that I am nearing the far edge of middle age. I ponder what I see in this world. And in my life. And the choices I have made and will make. I wonder what I haven’t seen. What blocks me from seeing. What I’m missing.

I keep wondering how I didn’t know what I wasn’t seeing. I imagine that the change was gradual, so I simply didn’t notice it. But it makes me think about how often we miss things with unintentional, unacknowledged blindness. About how changing a lens can make all the difference in the world.

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Time’s Running Out

I’ve been in resistance training. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Everyday I am actively working not to hear the increasingly loud and rapid tick… tock… ticktock… tickTOCK… TICKTOCK… TICKTOCK TICK TOCKTICKTOCK!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHH!

Ok….sorry about that. It’s just that August is here, fully entrenched and–OMG It’s the 18th already! That means August is actually almost half over…

AHHHHHHHHHH!

Oops! There I went again. This seems to be happening with increasing frequency! What I’m trying to get across is that I’m trying to live fully in each moment, resisting succumbing to the ever-increasing, inexorable pull of the great whirlpool of the impending school year…

but as each day passes, the closer it gets, and the stronger the pull. I am working frantically diligently to avoid future-thinking and immerse myself in the present and the remaining gift of free time. Occasionally, I’m successful, and often that’s with the help of time outside and with my camera. And lots and lots of reading. But, as that pool of time diminishes, it’s getting harder and harder.

To be clear, I really am looking forward to many aspects of returning to school (more so than in many past years), but the relentless pace is NOT one of them. I dread the constant rushrushrush with such limited time and energy remaining outside of school hours and responsibilities. Sigh.

So, I’m curious (desperate? lol). Can you throw me a lifeline? What do you do to keep things sane when you return to the hustle and bustle of another school year? Do you have a number one tip? Maybe a “school hack” to increase efficiency and productivity?

Fingers crossed and thanks in advance!

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PF: Hummingbird

We always look forward to the hummingbirds’ arrival in the spring. Some years they arrive, and then are scarcely seen as summer commences and flowers bloom, offering plenty of food in the wild. This year they have been present all summer, feeding from our feeder and garden blossoms. I usually have at least two or three of them whizzing about the garden, chittering and darting. Sometimes they show off their undulating “U” dance, which is always a delight. They also frequently perch in our birch tree, on our weather stick, or amidst the wisteria vines. I never tire of watching them and am always fascinated by how their colors change depending on the light. They are truly a gift of the season.

hummingbird

with her needle beak
and darting flight
summer seamstress
stitches together
all the sweetness
of the season

©Molly Hogan

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Heidi Mordhorst at her blog, My Juicy Little Universe. Be sure to stop by and sip up some poetry!

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PF: The Roundup is here!

Welcome! I’m delighted to be hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup this week!

After a few years of exciting travel and busy summers, and a hectic start to this one, I’m now enjoying a slow-flowing summer. I’m embracing and embodying words like putter, meander, wander, roam. I’ve done more than my fair share of digressing and side-tracking. And then there’s that delightful French verb, flâner, which means, essentially, to wander about with an engaged and inquisitive eye, but no destination in mind. I like to think of it as being open to everything, but with no agenda. Now, that’s a summer plan!

One of my favorite things to do this summer has been to follow the pollinators around my gardens and take pictures. It’s made for a lovely pace.

As the calendar flipped to August this week, I started thinking even more about pace. I confess, I have a propensity to hurry and rush. Too often I let the pace rev up to frantic, especially once the school year starts. I’m not sure how to stop this from happening (yet!). As I’ve been thinking about all the impending rush and scurry, this poem has been in my mind.

Hurry
by Marie Howe

We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store   
and the gas station and the green market and   
Hurry up honey, I say, hurry,   
as she runs along two or three steps behind me   
her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.   

Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?   
To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?  
(To read the the remainder of the poem, click here.)

Those first two lines of the second stanza are playing on repeat in my mind: “Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?/ To mine?”

So, I’m deliberately pushing pause while I can. Avoiding making too many plans. Cancelling or reorganizing them when I realize I have done so. I’ve taken more and longer naps this summer than I have in my entire life, and I’ll try to tuck in a few more. (The hammock and I have become good friends.) These days, when I think of running errands, I’m pausing to ask myself, “Do I want to do this right now? Do I need to do this right now?” More often than not, the answer to both of those question is: I don’t. It can wait.

Today as I lay in the hammock, I hear the bees buzzing about the hosta blossoms. I hear their sound ebb and flow, muffled by petals as they enter each soft chamber. My eyes trace the undulating path of a swallowtail butterfly. A pileated woodpecker swoops directly overhead to land momentarily on an adjacent tree. I watch it move up and down, hear it’s beak thunk into the trunk of wood, see it’s wings unfold as it flies away and listen to its ululating cry. I watch the shadows shape shift in the leafy canopy. I close my eyes and try to imprint the moment.

Summer is ending… but it has not yet ended.

Summer Mantra

May I be present in moment’s glow,
resist directing its ebb and flow,

relax into the day’s embrace,
let buzzing bees decide my pace.

May my eyes drift with monarch’s flight
and revel in day’s changing light.

May I gauge time by shadow’s reach
or tidal rhythms at the beach.

While clocks and phones sit idly by,
may I unwind with heartfelt sigh,

and coalesce with present space.
The gift of now can’t be replaced.

©Molly Hogan

And now I find myself humming this song…

“Let the morningtime drop all its petals on me….” Ahhhhhh…

Wishing you a wonderful late summer and sweet, smooth, flowing days. Please add your link below to join this week’s Roundup.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!Click here to enter

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Staples Encounter

Do you remember that old Staples ad? It was a back-to-school ad that showed a parent gleefully throwing school supplies into a cart with two glum children following along behind them. While I’m not thrilled with the glum child aspect, I still think the ad was amusing. Take a peek to refresh your memory!

I’m pretty sure I look a bit like that parent whenever I am shopping for office supplies. I’m not sending any children off to school these days, but I’m an office supply addict! Pens, folders, notebooks? They’re my jam!

So, last week, with great anticipation, I went to Staples for the first time this summer. I walked in feeling the excitement grow. What would I find this year? I lingered in the aisles, picking up and putting down various items. Considering this. Considering that. I kept Investigating all my options. Black pens? Blue pens? Red pens? … All!!! I dumped multiple packages into my cart.

Next, I debated about crayons. I don’t usually have individual crayon boxes, but I’d been considering it. They were on sale… I did the math. I could always add them to the community bin if I didn’t want to use them individually. Decision made! Twenty boxes of crayons were added to my growing pile.

After making many more decisions, changing my mind, trying to remember what I’d already ordered, reconsidering, adding, removing, etc., I finally made my way to the counter to pay. I piled up my tower of crayon boxes alongside the other items.

“Whoa! That’s a lot of crayons!” a small voice piped up from behind me.

I turned from the counter to see a wide-eyed young boy, standing next to his grandmother.

“Are those all for you?!” he asked, eyes bulging.

“No,” I smiled at him. “I’m a teacher and these are for my classroom. Are you getting ready to go to school, too?”

He nodded, holding tightly onto his own teetering tower of supplies. “I’m in precool.”

“You were in preschool last year,” his grandmother corrected. “This year, you’ll be in Kindergarten.”

“I’m gonna be in Kindergarten,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “I teach second grade. But Kindergarten is pretty awesome! Are you excited?”

“Yes,” he nodded enthusiastically.

After a moment, he looked up at me again. “Will you be there?”

Kids and office supplies…best combo ever! No wonder I love being a teacher! 🙂

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PF: Inklings Challenge: Triptych

This month Catherine set the challenge for our group. Inspired by Irene Latham’s recent post, she asked us to try a triptych. I did a little research to make sure I fully understood the form. Apparently, there’s room for some interpretation 🙂 According to AI, “A triptych poem is a poetic form consisting of three distinct, yet related, sections or stanzas. It’s inspired by the visual art form of a triptych, which is a painting or sculpture made up of three panels, often hinged together. In poetry, the three parts of a triptych can explore different facets of a theme, tell a story in three stages, or offer contrasting perspectives on a subject.”

Another site I found offered additional, more complex, options, stating:
“There are two types of Triptych poetry forms:

A poem consisting of three poems of equal length displayed side-by-side, like the panels of a triptych painting. Not only do the poems work together thematically, like the painting, they actually form a fourth poem. The fourth poem is read horizontally across the three poems. This fourth poem completes the theme of the Triptych.

A poem of three stanzas. The first stanza comments on the past, the second comments on the present, and the third comments on the future. The second stanza is twice as long as the first and third.”

I fooled around with all of these, lingering with the side-by-side format for a long time, enjoying the appeal of a visual triptych and the lure of a fourth poem to complete the trio. Eventually, I put that aside to work on again at another time. It was tough! The deadline was looming and I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do! But once again, I’m grateful for the birds. After looking out my window yesterday morning, I put everything aside and wrote this:

I
the birch tree stands
dappled in sun and shade
one graceful branch arcs low
a living artifact
of the weight
of winter snow

II
blue jays gather and perch
a cluster of fledglings
all flutter and clatter
and gawking beaks
a constant, raucous clamor
of bold and boisterous demand

III
sudden lift and exclamation
jays erupt skyward
in an exhalation of blue
and silence descends
as softly as a falling feather
alighting on the curve
of the empty branch

©Molly Hogan

“Triptych” watercolor by P.K. Ashur

If you’d like to see what the other Inklings did with this challenge, click on the links below:
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Heidi @my juicy little universe

This week’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Jane Whittingham at her blog, raincitylibrarian. If the summer heat has you down, click the link and spend some time chilling with some poetry!

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Dear Tired Self

In her typically generous fashion, Georgia Heard has begun to share monthly writing prompt calendars. For July she created a “Month of Tiny Letters.” Each day offers an invitation to write a tiny letter. Yesterday’s prompt was “Send love to your tired self.”

Dear Tired Self,
A nap
is a gift –
not an indictment.

Lean in.
Close your eyes.
Let the hammock
gently rock you
into easy dreams.

Three days. Two naps in the hammock. I’m doing something right!

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PF–a nonet

I thought my summer hadn’t fallen into any sort of rhythm yet. Then, I realized that it’s actually been an unexpected rhythm, mostly consisting of a sedentary pattern of sleeping, eating and drinking, reading, napping. Rinse. Repeat. Other than the reading, I’m apparently emulating a newborn!

As the days of July are now more than half over, I’m considering how I want to shape the rest of my summer. Adding a bit more writing and creating to my days is high on the list. I haven’t participated in Poetry Friday in quite some time, and have really missed the community. Today, I’m chiming in with a late-to-the-party nonet.

Visiting my in-laws in Nashville
wondering where the years have gone
days spiced with laughter and tears
time passes so quickly
inevitably
departure looms
cherish each 
fleeting
now

©Molly Hogan

This week the marvelous Jan Annino is hosting the Poetry Friday Round Up at her blog, Bookseedstudio.

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Glimmers of Light and Joy

After a fairly frenetic start to summer, I’m still struggling to find my summer rhythm. So far it’s mostly eluded me. I had all sorts of good intentions about getting back into a blogging routine, but once again, a few weeks have passed since I’ve posted.

In the last couple of days, inspired by On Being’s “The Hope Portal”, I’ve been trying to focus on finding “moments/sightings/experiences that bring flashes of light into your day.” I’ve also been trying to get a sort of routine in place–writing, walking, photography, etc. Yesterday morning I forced myself to take a walk, and found, as one usually does, a glimmer of joy.

trudging footsteps pause
swallowtail flits amidst lilies
sustenance

Then, today, I drove down to the marsh shortly after sunrise.

Deep within green
a deer appears
fleetingly

I’m beginning to realize that this summer may be a meandering one.

Optional compass
Not all who wander are lost
Savor each blossom

dramatic skies
priorities realign
perpsectives shift

Perhaps an overarching rhythm is overrated.

May glimmers of light brighten your days, and may your wanderings bring you joy.