At the break of a chilly day,
when the ghostly winter-grey
bark of beech trunks glinted
in the low sun, I squinted
and found, written in the frost,
as if they had recently been lost,
a scattering of words:
poems scratched by birds,
the cursive trail of a snail,
the imprint of a pattern of oval
fox pads, toes of mole and mouse,
just outside my house,
an early morning surprise,
nature’s gift at sunrise.
Kim M. Russell, 11th January 2021
My response to earthweal weekly challenge: Gifts
Brendan tells us about a book he has been reading. It’s by Robin Wall Kimmerer: Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and The Teaching of Plants (Milkweed Editions, 2015), and the chapter that has inspired this week’s challenge Is ‘The Gift of Strawberries’. The extracts he has shared are strawberry scented; Kimmerer paints a picture of fields of them and uses them to explore the magic of the given and the found.
I like the thought that once something has been given, it can never be sold, that a ‘gift establishes a feeling-bond between two people’: ‘wild strawberries fit the definition of gift, but grocery store berries do not’.
The poetic examples Brendan has given us are by Emily Dickinson and Wendell Berry.
So, this week we are choosing gratitude over despair, writing about gifts that have come our way.
Free image found on iStock
I like the poems scratched by birds. This is Toni, btw.
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Thank you, Toni! And I guessed it was you! 🙂
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What an absolutely perfect gift: ‘poems scratched by birds’ 🙏
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Thank Ingrid!
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💖 💖 💖
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Thanks David!
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How beautifu
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Thank you!
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You are welcome
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Oh. I love the second stanza!
I’m off to look for poems in the back garden. But I think my hens are not scratching poems, but pleas to be let out (they have their own lockdown due to bird flu).
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Thanks Kim! My neighbours have hens that used to visit my garden but I haven’t seen them lately; they too have been shut in their henhouse. The managers at Bernard Matthews and Banham Poultry must be pulling their hair out.
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Such beautiful gifts! I envy you your foxes. They are so lovely. I especially love the poems scratched by birds!
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I’ve always loved tracks in frost and snow.
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Those are precious gifts, and the givers don’t even realise what pleasure they’re giving. Yes, the scratched poems is a lovely image.
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Thanks Jane.
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Aw, I love this! Prints in the snow is like writing in disappearing ink: Present only for the moment’s beholding. What more is there? Lovely gift! – Brendan
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Cheers Brendan! No frost this morning, all is green, and somewhere out there on the water are the two swans I spotted yesterday – another lovely gift on a very cold, windy day.
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Night visitors…opening the morning for you. (K)
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🙂
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Something to appreciate on a snowy walk
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Indeed!
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I have often been held in thrall at this gift. Splendid poem with signs of Beloved Community.
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Thank you, Susan.
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That’s beautiful, Kim, so delicately scratched. You observe so minutely, and record so perfectly.
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Thank you so much, Sarah.
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Nature’s hieroglyphs.
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Love this!
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Thank you, Aimee!
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It’s truly amazing💚
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Thank you!
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I also write poems, do check them✌️
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