Yesterday, in replying to Olivia's recent e-mail, I mentioned that 'life
on the mountain is a bit slow and lonely, but then in the explanation
of my expression it turned out that life is good, slow is to be seen as
what a farmer does who knows that the potatoes cannot be rushed, and
lonely - ? - there is no way around it if one sees 'not lonely' as
having a crowd of people around with life bubbling hard in the many
separate activities of each. I am beginning to think the environment
Lulu and I were subjected to during the years of separation from Mims
and Pips prepared us for an existence of self reliance in our later
years. Life in a home for children is lonely. parents might send their
children to a 'kinderhim' for any reason, and one should think that the
company of children is enough for children. But our many companions
never stayed there for more than a few weeks at most and Lulu and I were
there for all seasons of the war years and rare and always short indeed
were the visits from either Mims, or Pips. There was never a chance to
form any lasting relationships and this constant flow of strangers
trains the soul to feel in good company with itself.
Yesterday morning when I left to visit Riina the back yard was yellow with a profusion of dandelions. Tall, healthy flours all and spread out like a carpet. They were still there in the evening, but this morning when I got up I was astounded: not a single blossom was to be seen! The heads hung on the stems as if they had wilted overnight. And yet, as I looked in astonishment, I began to see here and there a yellow spot and as I continued to wait for the rising spot yesterday's blossoms began to reappear, first one, then the other and the all, in a rush, and our back yard is yellow again.
We had heavy thunderstorms during the night. The rain gage recorded 2.1 inches and that between 10 last night and about 4:30 this morning. I better go to the garden patch and see how the asparagus fared in this deluge. Perhaps what looked like tiny weeds last night will look more like my anxiously awaited spinach today?
The picture is of the same branch of the lilac that I sent you a few days ago. Compare the two pictures and you see:
Like I said: life is slow up here.
With much love, and in the hope that you don't mind my 'thinking in black and white', and this deluge of personal thought that I keep sending you,
Isa
Yesterday morning when I left to visit Riina the back yard was yellow with a profusion of dandelions. Tall, healthy flours all and spread out like a carpet. They were still there in the evening, but this morning when I got up I was astounded: not a single blossom was to be seen! The heads hung on the stems as if they had wilted overnight. And yet, as I looked in astonishment, I began to see here and there a yellow spot and as I continued to wait for the rising spot yesterday's blossoms began to reappear, first one, then the other and the all, in a rush, and our back yard is yellow again.
We had heavy thunderstorms during the night. The rain gage recorded 2.1 inches and that between 10 last night and about 4:30 this morning. I better go to the garden patch and see how the asparagus fared in this deluge. Perhaps what looked like tiny weeds last night will look more like my anxiously awaited spinach today?
The picture is of the same branch of the lilac that I sent you a few days ago. Compare the two pictures and you see:
Like I said: life is slow up here.
With much love, and in the hope that you don't mind my 'thinking in black and white', and this deluge of personal thought that I keep sending you,
Isa
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