This was a beautiful post, Emily. I love this Mary Oliver poem, and I also love your words: "I can hear the rush of all that I do not know." I feel like I often hear this, too. In the rustling of desiccated leaves and rain drops and bird calls. There is so much I don't know, and so many reminders of that fact.
Also? Congratulations on wrapping up radiation! Wishing you an easeful off-ramp, with lots of dirt under your fingernails. 🌱
So true, Keith. The older I get, the less I know, and the more apparent that fact is. And Thank you! I am grateful to be done and back to gardening (soonish:)
the way you brought the poem and the ocean and the living feeling of not knowing home and offered it to us here is wondrous. and now i feel less alone and more emboldened to sit here with the rush :).
also yay to leaving march bug bed mulch! how do we make this a movement lol 💚💚💚
thank you, Briar. I'm so glad to hear that. Thank goodness the tide goes in and out. We (I) can't handle it coming in all the time! I love "March Bug Bed Mulch"!
Congratulations on the last radiation treatment. Thank you for the lovely writing. I loved starting my day with the Mary Oliver poem you chose. All the best!
A joy to read. The ocean, the end of the radiation treatment, the fingers in soild and mending. My youngest daughter makes hand-sewn quilts and has. passion for thimbles (kisses -- from Peter Pan when Wendy says she will give him a kiss and he doesn't know the word and thinks she is giving him her thimble) - a collection of them and a tattoo as well -- they are objects of use and beauty with an intimacy to them. x
Thank you for this Jan. I didn’t know or had forgotten the Peter Pan reference, so sweet. And I love that your daughter has a thimble tattoo! Yes, they are intimate objects.
Congratulations on finishing your radiation treatment, Emily!! And thank you for the essay! So many things resonated. Thimbles are so special, somehow. I remember being fascinated with them as a child. I used to love playing with buttons at my grandma's house. She had a wooden box, also lacquered, but just natural color of wood and full of different buttons. I still remember some of them, 47 years later. And there was a thimble in the box. I remember trying it on different fingers. I love "an inland sea". The idea that even something as plain as a a winter prairie has its beauty, and its mystery, and its depth. It reminds me of coming home from California. I live by Lake Michigan. The ocean fills me with so much awe, and yet Lake Michigan has its own very special beauty. And yes, I was cleaning up my yard the other day and thinking exactly of that--am I harming bugs??
Thank you for sharing this Nadia. I have a button box as well. I think the buttons in it are a mix of my grandmother’s and great grandmother’s, and also mine. What a collection!
I have a friend who lives near lake MI. It seems like it would carry its own weight, different from the ocean, but nonetheless, there. And I’m glad to have someone to commiserate with about the bugs. Oh dear!
This was a beautiful post, Emily. I love this Mary Oliver poem, and I also love your words: "I can hear the rush of all that I do not know." I feel like I often hear this, too. In the rustling of desiccated leaves and rain drops and bird calls. There is so much I don't know, and so many reminders of that fact.
Also? Congratulations on wrapping up radiation! Wishing you an easeful off-ramp, with lots of dirt under your fingernails. 🌱
So true, Keith. The older I get, the less I know, and the more apparent that fact is. And Thank you! I am grateful to be done and back to gardening (soonish:)
the way you brought the poem and the ocean and the living feeling of not knowing home and offered it to us here is wondrous. and now i feel less alone and more emboldened to sit here with the rush :).
also yay to leaving march bug bed mulch! how do we make this a movement lol 💚💚💚
thank you, Briar. I'm so glad to hear that. Thank goodness the tide goes in and out. We (I) can't handle it coming in all the time! I love "March Bug Bed Mulch"!
Lovely Essay. I can almost hear the waves (and feel the splashy chill). And congratulations on being done with radiation. I’m so happy to hear it.
Thank you, Sarah. I am sooo happy to be done.
I can only imagine. ❤️
Love this, thank you for sharing, Emily. 🙏💚
Thanks Don!
Congratulations on the last radiation treatment. Thank you for the lovely writing. I loved starting my day with the Mary Oliver poem you chose. All the best!
Thanks Janisse. It’s a great poem:).
A joy to read. The ocean, the end of the radiation treatment, the fingers in soild and mending. My youngest daughter makes hand-sewn quilts and has. passion for thimbles (kisses -- from Peter Pan when Wendy says she will give him a kiss and he doesn't know the word and thinks she is giving him her thimble) - a collection of them and a tattoo as well -- they are objects of use and beauty with an intimacy to them. x
Thank you for this Jan. I didn’t know or had forgotten the Peter Pan reference, so sweet. And I love that your daughter has a thimble tattoo! Yes, they are intimate objects.
Congratulations on finishing your radiation treatment, Emily!! And thank you for the essay! So many things resonated. Thimbles are so special, somehow. I remember being fascinated with them as a child. I used to love playing with buttons at my grandma's house. She had a wooden box, also lacquered, but just natural color of wood and full of different buttons. I still remember some of them, 47 years later. And there was a thimble in the box. I remember trying it on different fingers. I love "an inland sea". The idea that even something as plain as a a winter prairie has its beauty, and its mystery, and its depth. It reminds me of coming home from California. I live by Lake Michigan. The ocean fills me with so much awe, and yet Lake Michigan has its own very special beauty. And yes, I was cleaning up my yard the other day and thinking exactly of that--am I harming bugs??
Thank you for sharing this Nadia. I have a button box as well. I think the buttons in it are a mix of my grandmother’s and great grandmother’s, and also mine. What a collection!
I have a friend who lives near lake MI. It seems like it would carry its own weight, different from the ocean, but nonetheless, there. And I’m glad to have someone to commiserate with about the bugs. Oh dear!