Morphing, Symbolism and Signs in Nature for Our Writing

A few days ago, I spotted a beautiful insect on my Puerto Rican grandmother's little wicker table that sits on my kitchen patio. I'd never seen anything like it. As I ran back inside to grab my cell phone to snap some photographs, I'd hoped it wouldn't fly away. My daughter's boyfriend told me what it was--a leopard moth.

Yesterday, I took a good look at this leopard moth and wondered if it was dead. It hadn't moved at all that I could see. So quiet and peaceful. I poked the moth lightly with my finger and it moved. What was it doing?

I wasn't sure if the insect was getting ready for something like morphing or coming to end of its life. I wondered if this lovely insect could fly at all. Perhaps it was injured or were its wings as decorative as the spots on its body, not really made for flying? The moth had moved to rest on a leaf of the pineapple top that I'm rooting in a glass of water last night. Maybe it was hungry. When I checked on the leopard moth this morning, it was gone. I was kinda sad and wished it well.

I love seeing and recognizing signs and symbolism in nature, so I thought about what this leopard moth might signify for me as a creative person. The ideas of morphing, change, rest, patience--the various stages of growth that the leopard moth had gone through resonated with me. It had morphed from caterpillar to chrysalis to moth. Quite a journey and here it was gracing my kitchen porch.

Over the last few years, I too have morphed as a woman, a writer and as an artist. At times, I'm crazy productive and other times, I've rested and gone inward. I've learned to preserve my creative energy and not burn out. I take breaks when I need them and if I need a week away from my novel or a painting, I take it--just because I'm not writing or have a paintbrush in hand doesn't mean I'm not being creative.

Much like this leopard moth, a lot is happening inside while I rest and am still. I may appear dormant at times, but I'm not dead! Rest and being still are an important stage in writing and being creative. I don't have huge swings of creativity aka I'm not up until all hours and then sleep for a week. But, I do listen to my mind and my body. I'm much more productive that way and I truly believe in things happening at the right time.

Timing is everything. One day soon, my first novel, A Decent Woman, is going to fly, fly, fly away like the leopard moth while at the same time, my second novel, Finding Gracia, is still in the caterpillar stage. I might feel sad to see my first novel go out into the world where I can no longer protect it, but my book is ready for that. I'm ready for that. My second novel is still where I can protect it and feed it dandelions until it morphs into another beautiful novel.

Peace and love to you,
Ellie

Lavender On The Brain

Julia Cameron introduced the concept of the Artist's Day in her seminal book on creativity and tapping into our creative sides called The Artist's Way. I read her book over 20 years ago when I lived in Brussels, Belgium and have now read it three times. I highly recommend Cameron's awesome book over and over again to friends and family who feel stuck in a rut and want to find and pursue their passions in life.

An Artist's Day to me back when I lived in Brussels could have meant an afternoon with Magritte, marveling at the Grand Place and trips to Provence, Ghent or Brugges. I live in West Virginia now and these days, my Artist's Days look more like a trip to a farmer's market, a picnic at a Virginia winery, a visit to a Civil War area, and year-round, myriad festivals in my neck of the woods which I love. But, an Artist's Day could also mean baking a cake, picking wildflowers, making a collage of favorite photographs. Anything to fill your emotional well is an Artist's Day.

This past Saturday, two friends and my sister joined me for a road trip to Willow Pond Farm Herbs & Everlastings in Fairfield, Pennsylvania. This was our third time at the Annual Lavender Festival and we were excited. We were coming from Northern Virginia and West Virginia and met in Frederick, Maryland to carpool in one car which is always fun. Willow Pond's lavender festival had actually been held the weekend before, but with all the rain in our area, the lavender hadn't bloomed. So, when the farm offered another weekend to pick lavender, we jumped at the chance!

Sadly, the lavender at Willow Pond Farm was not in full bloom and our dreams of colorful photographs were dashed. We still had a great time, enjoyed lavender ice cream and watched a young woman making lavender wands, but we were a bit bummed. I felt sad for the elderly owners of the lavender farm and the festival organizers, but what can you do? Lavender needs hot sun and dry weather which we have not had much of this summer.

Oh, well. C'est la vie. We'd still had a nice outing together and it was a beautiful day. We left Fairfield and headed south on 15 toward Frederick, MD and my sister spotted a small lavender sign that read: Lavender Festival. I saw the sign, but thought it was an old sign for the Fairfield festival the week before. Lo and behold, we spotted a larger sign on the side of the highway. A different lavender festival and it was that day! I laughed at how a male driver might not agree to turn the car around and we were almost giddy as we made the U-turn and drove up the gravel driveway.

LAVENDER! Rows and rows of lavender at Springfield Manor! What a feast for the eyes, nose and soul. We jumped out of the car and began taking photographs as if the lavender would disappear into thin air. There were also rows and rows of grape vines dotting the hill. We bought bouquets of freshly cut lavender, my sister and I bought lavender plants (Munstead and Provence variety), and we discovered from the owner's children that the old stone house on the hill is soon to open as an Inn and their newly renovated barn and patio are to open as a winery/future distillery in September. Wine, lavender, and B&Bs, three of my favorite things in one spot. Awesome! We'll be visiting soon!

After the festival, three of us headed to the river for a fun evening and relaxing Sunday. The weather was perfect and the river was beautiful. Artist's Day well done!

I'm heading outside with my lavender plants to select the sunniest part of my garden with thoughts of France, friendship and future road trips.

Peace and love,
Ellie

Multi-tasking During A Tornado Warning

Yesterday was my cleaning day and I managed to get quite a bit done around the house. The lower level is "spic and span" as my Dad would say and I was happy to get it done so that I could concentrate on writing the rest of the week. But, let me tell you, it wasn't an easy day.

I work/write better when I have chores completed and that was my plan until I was interrupted by the County weather bulletin beeping loudly on my television. At first, I thought it was a test of the early broadcasting system, so I continued to dust the living room furniture. When I looked over at the TV, I saw maps with red, yellow, orange areas and realized that it was my area! I raced over with my rag in hand, I watched the words go across the lower part of the screen informing me that a tornado watch was in effect for my area. Well, now. That's a new one for me. I'd been in a hurricane before, but not a tornado.

I thought I'd certainly have time to vacuum the dining room, so I did just that. I was glad I'd had the Weather Channel on because the tornado watch quickly turned into a tornado warning, in effect until 10 pm. What the heck? I cleaned the television screen as I watched the maps pop up on the screen and then, I saw my town listed. Holy shit. I wrapped the vacuum cleaner cord around the machine and something told me to leash up my Pug. I looked around for my cat and didn't see him, so I called him and he appeared. Yes, my cat comes when I call him.

The severe thunderstorm with a high chance for tornadoes seemed to be following the path along Interstate 81 going north and within five or ten minutes, the loud beeping resumed and a voice said that if you live in this town, you should take cover NOW. The power of words. I heard NOW and I didn't move for a couple of seconds. I was dumbfounded. Was this really happening? Now? That town is very close to where I live! If the tornado was following the route they described, I had only minutes before it would hit. The weather people predicted the severe weather would veer off 81 N and head east, but try telling that to a tornado. Hey tornado, you're predicted to go east, so go east and leave us alone! Who the heck knows with tornadoes? They're as unpredictable as I was as a teen. Now, I had to think where I would be safest. My Pug stood at the front door, wondering when the hell we were going for our walk. I forgot he had his leash on!

The stone cellar of my 107-year old house is solid, but unfortunately, there are three sets of small windows, as well as hundreds of spider webs. I didn't really know what to do and I hate spiders, so I grabbed my cell phone, took the leash that had a very confused Pug at the other end (who is terrified of thunder and lightning) and looked around for my cat and saw him in the kitchen because he hated the loud noises that were coming from the television set. I realized that the area on the first floor of my house has nine windows and a kitchen door with a window, but the area near the door that leads to my basement is shielded by the dining room door that I could close and the refrigerator would block us. I dragged my Pug into the cubby, closed both doors and we sat in the dark. Where was my cat? I called out to him and saw him on the kitchen table (where he's not allowed, of course), looking at me.

I hadn't realized it had gotten so dark outside which added to my increasing anxiety. I texted my children and my sister to let them know that I was okay and to warn them that they should be on alert as the tornadoes (from what I could hear from the television in the other room, through a closed door) was heading east toward the DC area. Shoot! I knew my daughter was in class in Virginia and my son is in NYC working. Then, my sister called to ask if I was okay. I said we were, but that it was pretty scary. She was at home and said that she feared a tornado more than a hurricane and I had to agree as they are so unpredictable. I told her to keep in touch and I hung up.

The beeping continued and I realized I had a bad headache. Just then, I felt my cat near my feet and I picked him up. We three sat in the dark listening to the rain and the wind outside. I worried about all the objects on my patio that could be turned into projectiles. Great. Right through my windows or my neighbor's windows. I thought about the people of Oklahoma and any other place in the US that had been hit by a tornado. This was scary as hell. I worried about all the people on 81 in their cars who might not have anywhere safe to get to, much like the people of Oklahoma. Me who loves extreme weather and watching storm chaser stories had gotten a small dose of what it really feels like. Not good. I've always listened carefully to tornado survivor stories and marveled at what had saved them--a mattress over their bodies, a closet, the bathtub. There was nothing to put over my head where I was sitting and I wondered if I had a helmet anywhere! I laughed to myself at the absurd picture of me wearing a helmet, but hey. I sat petting my animals and realized that yes, petting an animal can calm you down.

I also wondered if I could clean behind the fridge as I sat there. Nothing like multi-tasking in a tornado warning! Instead, I sat still and checked FB to see if friends in my town had heard about the twister warning and sure enough, two had posted. I posted that I was okay and at home. I worried for my elderly neighbor and tried to call him, but he didn't answer. Great. I was glad I'd taken my high blood pressure meds that morning as my fear rose.

I had a gut feeling that I was going to be okay and tried to keep my imagination from running away from me with visuals of the Oklahoma tornadoes I'd seen. Ten minutes later, I ventured out of my cubby to the TV and sure enough, the warnings were now for areas along route 340 going toward Frederick, MD. It was going northeast toward Baltimore. I have friends all over that area and I prayed for them.

That evening, three tornadoes hit Maryland, sheesh. One to two hours from me. Trees damaged, garages and sheds obliterated, and flooded streets and houses in the DC area. This week, we have more severe weather coming our way. I'd better get writing today! Not only is it hurricane season, but we also have to worry about tornadoes now. The derecho that hit my town hard last year was the first one that local friends remember ever hitting our town, but there have been tornadoes before. I didn't know that...guess I DO have to have a tornado preparedness kit in place. Oy vey. After buying extra water, a better flashlight, batteries, extra dog and cat food, and canned food for me, I'm going to buy a pack of college-ruled notebooks, a bunch of pencils and an eraser or two so that I can continue to write while I ride out whatever chooses to come my way.

Happy calm Tuesday, I pray!

Peace and love,
Ellie

Thoughts of Dogwoods and Life

The sidewalks and streets in my neighborhood are wet and my garden is green again. I looked out the window this morning and smiled. No snow and the sun is out. I instantly felt energetic and wonder if the lack of sun affects me or is it just that I love the sun and sunny days. I immediately feel more energetic even if I'm home and don't go out in the sun, just seeing the sun makes me feel better. My neighbors must feel the same way as I hear my neighbor's children playing in the yard and all this week, I've heard birdsong around dawn. Spring has arrived.

After breakfast, I walked through my garden in my white robe, sipping hot tea and checking on all my babies. I hope that the perennials I planted last summer bloom again. I spotted two robins along the back fence and noticed new growth on the hydrangea plants and the astilbe. The daffodils and lilies are six inches high now and the ivy in the pot is as strong as ever. I still have this month to prune my ancient grapevines and the little dogwood tree my friend D gave me last year has tiny buds on the branches. That made me happiest of all. 

Last year on Earth Day, my friend D was offered two 'twigs', dogwood trees with roots in a plastic bag of dirt. She surprised me with one 'twig' last year as a house warming gift and couldn't have known how happy that made me. D said she didn't know if the 'twig' would survive, but I was hopeful and so pleased.

You see, dogwoods were my mother's favorite tree. They will always remind me of my mother who passed away in 1992. She also loved lilac bushes. I love both. My parents had several flowering dogwood trees on their property in Northern Virginia. Beautiful dogwoods in creamy white and shades of light and darker pink. They're delicate-looking, compact trees that don't grow huge like an oak or a maple, perfect for a smaller yard like mine. Well, I was thrilled.

A Virginia dogwood had ended up in a West Virginian garden. Just like me, a Virginia transplant in a new home, I told D. I too, had been delicate, fragile, and had replanted myself many times after my divorce. My kids, family and many friends feared for me in a new town and state, worried that I'd hate West Virginia and that I'd made an awful mistake in moving. It didn't matter that it hadn't been my choice to leave Europe, end my marriage, and move across the Atlantic, but here I am.

I immediately planted the little dogwood in a large clay pot and decided that we would no longer call it 'twig'. It's a dogwood and I babied that tree all last spring. Midsummer D visited again and we planted the dogwood in my yard. I decided to plant it along the side fence away from the wind that always blows like crazy through the side yard. She reminded me that I would have to move it, but I was dead set in protecting it first. I staked the little dogwood and it has thrived there. The dogwood grew four inches last year and I'm praying that it survives the winter and continues to thrive. But, I might have made a small mistake with my precious little dogwood...

I planted it along the side fence, way too close to the fence, actually. In my attempt to protect and save the sapling, I'd forgotten about trust and allowing things to progress as they are meant to. I'll have to move it to a location where it is able grow as large as it wants. The spot is confining and not conducive to future growth...I forgot to trust.

as I write this blog post, it feels eerie. The comparisons between my new life in West Virginia and this little dogwood are amazing to me. I've always felt in tune with nature, so this shouldn't surprise me.

Two springs ago, I moved to West Virginia to start a new life. I bought and move to a house that I could well afford and to a location that would allow me to write full time. At the time, I saw no other option. Friends and my children encouraged me to look at other houses, but I was so afraid that I just made the decision and did it. West Virginia isn't forever, but it sure has been a soft place to land and I've been able to live my life as I envisioned it. I've felt safe and protected in this place. The experience of moving on my own has been difficult at times because I'm away from my two adult children, but I've healed here. I'd put down tender, shallow roots and they spread. I've grounded myself in this town and I feel I've thrived...

but, I now realize that I've planted myself real close to the fence in an attempt to regroup after divorce. I wonder what would have happened if I'd trusted and been a bit more patient? Well, I'm not one to dwell on the past nor agonize over decisions. I did what I thought was right for me. I finished my novel and have begun to write my second book. I've made friends and feel a part of my crazy and colorful neighborhood. I've also protected my heart in many ways...there it is.

Is it time for me to move away from the fence? What will moving away from the fence mean for me? What will it look like?

It looks like book #3, that's what it looks like :) The outline is already written because I've lived it. That book will be the sequel to the book I'm writing now or the ending...and I didn't realize it until just NOW. Just this second.

Trust.

Peace and love,
Ellie

The Nest

I don't know when the first day of spring is this year, so I'm pretending it's today. The skies are blue, the sun is shining and it's a beautiful, albeit chilly day. 

On our walk this morning, Ozzy and I came across a bird's nest in a tree that we've probably passed every day. Either I never noticed the nest or it's being prepared. I raised up on my tip toes to peek inside and it was empty. The nest sits on a branch of a young tree in our common area where people walk their dogs and of course, there are those who don't pick up after their dogs. It's annoying because I have to walk gingerly, looking down or I'm liable to step in a hot mess that usually isn't easy to remove from my shoes or boots which has, of course, happened.

I'm surprised the birds have built a nest in this spot because it's heavily traveled and the little tree is barely seven feet high. Last summer, I heard chirping and found a baby bird lying on the ground, its eyes barely open. I always walk with my eyes to the ground for poop purposes which is a good thing because I might have stepped on the baby. The birdling was weak, wet and not happy about his situation. He kept opening his mouth for food and my immediate impulse was to pick up the birdling and place it in the nest I'd discovered on a low branch of the tree closest to the baby. But I didn't touch the baby for fear that I'd do something wrong. I remembered someone telling me that if a human touches a baby bird, its mother might reject it and I didn't know if that was an old myth, so I went home to search the Internet to see what I should do. As I walked home, I had a real fear that the many feral cats in my neighborhood would snatch the baby before I got back. I was a nervous wreck!

What I learned was that I had to fill a clean, plastic container with shredded paper and nail it to the tree, as close to the nest as I could and using gloves, pick up the baby and place it in the makeshift nest. I left Ozzy in the house and ran back to the common area with the materials to save this baby -- I was on a mission! Thank goodness the baby was still there. I looked around for the mother, but I didn't see any birds. I could hear one though, off in the distance as I nailed the container to the tree.

The instant I picked up the baby, a bird came out of nowhere and swooped down, aiming for my head! I ducked and honest to God, that bird continued her 'attack' until I moved away from the tree and crossed the street. Then, the bird sat on a power line and we watched each other. How stupid of me to think that the bird would be thankful that I'd rescued the baby! I laughed at my naivete and told the bird that I would have done the same thing if anyone had touched my babies.

The next day, Ozzy and I went out for our walk and the nest was empty. I listened and checked the surrounding area and nothing. I hoped the bird had taken the baby to a safer location, but I also wondered if a cat had indeed killed the birdling. I'd never know. I'd done my part and realized that nature would do as nature does. I also laughed because if it weren't for the poop left behind by irresponsible dog owners , I might not have been looking down that day :) C'est la vie.

Happy weekend to you!

Peace and love,

Ellie