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Easter Views

I finished up a sweet trio of rabbits as the Easter sun rose in the sky.  My own little bunnies were up soon after to enjoy them and some pistachios and chocolate eggs.  Around here, there is no bunny to bring treats, but the Tomten usually comes through.  During our weekly Cream of Wheat breakfast, we chatted on the phone withe Mike and his mother before he started on his way home.  He and his sisters had given her a surprise 70th birthday party the day before.

Easter Rabbits

After breakfast and tidying up, the children made turkey sandwiches for us all and we set out on a picnic.  Living in our little town, we can walk many places.  Behind a giant Baptist church (well, giant for us), there's a playground and the oldest cemetery in town (1747).  There's also the oldest public oak, the Royal Oak, for which many businesses take their name.  We sat under the old oak for our sandwiches.

Picnic

I think this captures my three pretty well.  Willow, always so lovely; Roan, with his sly grin; Laurel, on the move with Oreos in hand.  Our picnic reminded me of the essays in Lifeways.  It was a simple affair, but really so enjoyed.  I hope we can repeat it, our own tradition in the cool hopefulness that is Easter.  I want my children to know and feel special places.  There are so many.

Headstone

Most of the stones in the old cemetery were without carvings on them, such as it is with limestone and the like.  It was a time to remember people who have been, in many ways, forgotten.  They, too, were once lovely, mischievous and busy.  They exist in inventories of the local cemeteries, painstakingly researched many years ago by devoted amateur historians.

Spring Beauties

There were thousands upon thousands of Spring Beauties blooming.
The ground was also full of day lilies sprouting up.
This place is so cool and green in the Summer (with a touch of poison ivy).

The First Bride

The Wassum name is prominent in Marion, with their descendents still living here.
The land where our house is was once part of their farm.
There's a lot to think about with this piece of granite.

Balancing

We skipped the playground that day, choosing to utilize the fallen trees, stumps, and logs.
Sometimes, children need just a bit of modeling to see what is there.
Other times, they need nothing at all but open spaces.

Tall Stone

They often ask me to read tombstones for them.
We are not sad about it.  It is what it is.
Life was bursting forth and renewing itself all around us.

Watching the Train

We watched a train for some time, as this little knoll overlooks the tracks (and a defense plant).
The world rushed on around this little forgotten island of ancient oaks.

Peeping

Laurel, that girl.
She was looking in an old woodpecker hole.

Founder

And here's a tribute to the woman who helped preserve the cemetery and the Royal Oak.
Little did I know that I would visit her special place and walk nearly every inch of it looking for my pentatonic flute.
I didn't find it after we got home, so we went back and looked again.
Becky came over and offered to go look, with no luck.

Searching

After Mike got home, I looked for another hour before supper, taking a rake along. I walked in rows, up and down, back and forth. He went back after supper. I called the Baptist church to see if anyone picked it up in the parking lot and turned it in. Nothing yet. I am sentimental about few things, but this really got me. Such sweet flutes the Choroi ones are. I've been planning a recorder post for some time, hoping to weigh in on how they compare and my preferences for teaching music to children. Oh, well. A replacement will be had some time.

On that note, I'll move along.

Comments

( 6 trees — Plant a Forest )
bugorama
Mar. 29th, 2016 05:38 pm (UTC)
So sad about the loss of your flute! I imagine it just blended right in with all those leaves and twigs. Perhaps it will still be found someday, but of course the moisture outside will affect it ...

I have a couple of inexpensive Clarke penny whistles that I LOVE to play. The fingering is very similar to the choroi flutes. I've read that it's much easier to play the higher notes on a penny whistle than a recorder, but I don't personally have much recorder experience. Clarke makes a great intro to the penny whistle book too. I think it may be a good second instrument for my kids to learn someday (the first being their voices!).
impossibleway
Mar. 30th, 2016 11:19 am (UTC)
Everything was pretty gray and the leaves were packed down, but it's just gone. Yes, a recorder is just not so great on the high notes. I played the piccolo in high school and I am used to doing them. I know someone who used penny whistles. I may end up with a whole armada of flutey things over time. I did find an inexpensive diatonic Choroi, so that's good!
elberethmyrrh
Mar. 30th, 2016 05:54 am (UTC)
Spending Easter in a graveyard seems oddly fitting. I am glad you were able to have such a simple yet special day.

I am still so sorry about your flute! I do hope you can buy another one someday soon.
impossibleway
Mar. 30th, 2016 11:19 am (UTC)
It was. We have done it before. :-) I've found someone who offers them wholesale, so I am hopeful!
elizabethhas7
Apr. 1st, 2016 08:46 am (UTC)
I really love Willow's dress material. It's beautiful. And I love this post, too. It makes me miss the mainland.
(Anonymous)
Apr. 5th, 2016 02:58 pm (UTC)
I absolutely love old cemeteries, and I have spent so much time in them, people find it weird. It's been a while since we visited one. When I was a little girl, my grandmother lived near a huge cemetery. My cousins and I would walk there regularly. Then came all the trips to the old rural cemeteries as we "did the genealogy," as my grandmother called it. The old people had such a way of speaking. You've made me feel quite sentimental (smile). I love your little bunnies! - Stacey
( 6 trees — Plant a Forest )

A Blessed Wilderness

It was just like being in heaven, being in there. In those days there was no road. The park was all a blessed wilderness. I have often thought what a wonderful people we would have been if we had wanted to keep it that way.

~Adolph Murie, biologist, on Denali


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© impossibleway

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