Isabella Bird Miscellany

Walking past the hedge, on the edge of the broken pavement, the path constricts as branches brush past my cheek. The way is narrow and thin; a reflective pace unavoidable. There's life in the hedge - birds and bugs, spiders and the sort. Life seems well designed for creatures of nature. They exist in the hedge and dine on what comes their way; a small interactive society. In some way or another, we all live in a hedge - our town, our community, neighborhood and home. How much we participate in the movement of our hedge depends on us. Take the spider for example. She spins a lively tatted web and then waits, luring in her food. On the other hand, birds flit and flicker, seizing what have you's here and there, and then  return to their nest. Other living things fill additional elements of the hedge. All have a useful fragment of the being. I walk by this hedge most days. And, most days the phrase, "walking past the hedge on the edge" goes through my mi...

fox glides, low to the ground                       sly, inquisitive, resourceful creatures solitary, bronzed and ruddy with flashing eyes        bushy tail dipped in white  forest home or urban domain                                      fox, a nocturnal pilgrim Summer has afforded me an opportunity to move about aimlessly; not quite a coddiwomple, but sort of. This week, I found myself writing and sipping iced chai at Foxtail Bakery. Let's just say the cookies were perfect and divine; I was completely tempted to purchase more pastries than I should.  There's a tall counter with white-backed stools and a big garage door to let in light and fresh air. Picture windows face the street. Cars buzz by. Black and white striped umbrellas twirl like the tutu of a ballerina. Assorted tables an...

little hands reaching for the wonder It was a weekend of Christmas events – the season is in full swing, carols of cheer ring through shops and festivities. The massive tree downtown had the switch flipped, illuminating it with thousands of tiny colored lights while onlookers sipped hot chocolate topped with a mound of swirled whipped cream. People chatted and warmed themselves around small half kegs turned into fire pits and raised to table height. It looked like a scene out of a Dickens story only set in modern day America. Saturday was parade day, a parade like only happens in a small city; marching bands and floats with scouts and girls’ dance teams; prancing horses with jingle bells and the requisite pooper-scooper tagging behind. Bystanders waved and wished all a “Merry Christmas” with an equally enthusiastic response. A heartwarming and genuine spirit of Christmas. And...more hot chocolate and Santa making his grand appearance at the tail end of the parade that woun...

thanksgiving: grateful acknowledgement of divine favor     Pine needles lay like pokey Pick-Up-Sticks on the sidewalk. I notice them as I walk; that and cracks, pebbles and dirt that washed from a flower bed in a recent rain. Stuff scattered on the sidewalk. It’s not clean. It’s rather messy. Thanksgiving is tomorrow; a day marked on the calendar to acknowledge the good things in our lives. This is good, right? For a lot of us the answer is “yes,” but this year, more than ever, I’m keenly aware of how desperately painful the Holidays can be. People’s lives and relationships look like the messy sidewalk, so they don’t want to walk there. I get that; it looks like there’s nothing good to acknowledge. There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy – Ralph H Blum Walking, I look more closely at the pine needles, seeing the slender taper, the soft brown color and the patterns they leave on the sidewalk. The cracks spider-out like delicate s...

I chose a seat by the window. There weren’t too many available... The glass went all the way to the floor. A wood bar was mounted at counter height with wobbly swivel stools. The view was urban; sidewalk, cars and shops. An older couple walked by leisurely, holding hands, while a couple of twenty somethings smiling and talking had a fast pace. I like watching from my fish bowl. A small bird pecked at what I can only assume were crumbs from someone’s leftover muffin. It’s quite content with scraps. The day itself was rainy and really blowing. Mid-fall leaves trying to cling to nearly bare branches, knowing that soon they too will join the others spread on the sidewalk. It’s pretty. I’m sort of oblivious to the goings on around me in the coffee house, instead giving my attention to what’s outside. While there’s activity inside, much is happening outside the window. Choosing where I sit – Missy If you have been mildly amused, challenged or insp...