The Thicket

Thicket2Sometimes a word plays hide-and-seek in my mind.  It’s there somewhere holding all the feelings that can only be released into that one word.  Ofttimes it’s a verb darting, taunting, refusing to be caught, and I give chase.  But this word I know to be a noun, sitting heavily on my chest with the weight of it hurting every breath. 

Then I caught a glimpse of the word in the thicket.  It was both inviting and foreboding. But the fencing held me back.  I knew I could not chase it down.  I could only wait until it was ready to reveal itself.  Patience.  Some words are not meant to be come easily.  They have to work their way through the brambles of your life.

Kathleen Martin on April 13th, 2014 | File Under Kathleen Martin | 1 Comment -


RaindropsYou know how some days you just can’t make happen what you want no matter how hard or how many times you try.  That’s how it was with the raindrops on the porch railings.  They were beautiful against the backdrop of the trees and the mist surrounding them–a melancholic beauty, an aching beauty.  I shot from different angles with different exposures, practically stood on my head taking one shot and nearly fell down the steps taking another.  But I could not capture what I was feeling—the way they were just hanging there waiting to fall, huddling closer and closer to one another and eventually taking the plunge together.  It was a gathering-together that summed up all the sadness I was holding and needing to let go. I have lost so many people that I have loved.  And there will be more.  We are all one with the Earth’s tears.

Kathleen Martin on March 30th, 2014 | File Under Kathleen Martin | 4 Comments -


GackelsI was leaving the house for my morning walk when a raucous sound drew my attention skyward.  The treetops around our home were filled with large black birds.  I think they’re called grackles.  Whatever it was that they were announcing, they wanted to make sure  everyone heard!  They only stayed a few minutes and then took off for another destination.  Their cacophony of sound-without-harmony had definitely awakened me.

As I walked our gravel country road, I heard a whippoorwill and then a mockingbird.  These were wonderfully melodious sounds, comforting and calming, like the call of our hoot owl in the evenings.  Then I saw and heard a cardinal—an insistent sound, much like our squirrels scolding one another in their endless competition for food.

Sounds, I thought.  What a wonderful way the world speaks to us through her winged creatures.  Their variation reminds us to listen more carefully to the noises in our lives, to pay attention to the sounds that call us, to heed the sounds that need us.  Never to shut out the irritant voices, to listen closely for the more subdued voices.  To wonder at the sound of our own voices.  The wild has once again reminded me of the richness of our humanity.

Kathleen Martin on March 16th, 2014 | File Under Kathleen Martin | 3 Comments -