Suddenly, it is spring~

Image of cherry blossoms on 04 March, 2017 from Cherry Blossom Watch.

The seasons have been at war with each other this year. We have had alternating weeks of summer temperatures followed by deep winter. All of the trees, birds, amphibians, and insects have been confused. The morning that this photo was captured, a lone Robin Redbreast (Turdus migratorius) sat with feathers puffed out against the cold looking at me, quite affronted that it was cold, wet, and dreary. The ornamental pear blossoms were also encased in ice, making them, for once, beautiful to my eyes. I am not a fan of white pollen, nor it of me.

Fortunately, it seems that the seasons are moderating now that we’ve passed the Vernal equinox. I say that with a large grain of salt, a knock on wood, and cautiously knowing that we’re really never truly clear of sudden snap freezes here until mid-May.

On a more personal level, I am moderating my own body clock now that DST has begun again. I struggle with it each spring. I am not, by natural inclination, an early riser. The fresh sunlight in the mornings prior to DST was lovely as it helped ease me into the new day. We’re gradually getting back to that, but the first week of suddenly awakening back up in darkness was a chore. The household animal companions are also settling into the new schedule and beginning to be up and alert in the to keep me company.  The cats have been enjoying the return of the migratory birds visiting and feeding on the lawn. It’s entertaining to see three fuzzy bottoms peeking out from beneath the curtains, tails twitching almost in syncopation.

The dog, on the other hand, knows that this warming trend means longer walks and visits to the dog park. Which leads to more baths. Dog park visits mean lots of stinky stuff to roll in, as do visits to the beach. Other dogs might appreciate the care and dedication he takes in cultivating this funk, but other dogs don’t have to worry about upholstery becoming saturated with funk.

So, while it has been a strange unfolding of spring so far, there are at least familiar, comforting harbingers of winter’s end present. I will keep my eyes and ears open to the other, more subtle clues beginning to arrive.



Dancing at the world’s edge

Where to begin when a blank page stares back at you? Allow me to build a foundation for this blog.

Taurë Curuni is not my name. It is a description of both vocation and lifestyle. The language is Quenya1 and translates to Forest Witch. I live on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay; surrounded by both water and woods.

From childhood, these places have called to me ~ to explore, enjoy, and educate myself about this world. There is a magic in wandering a forest path and in chasing a wave on the shore. Both song birds and sea gulls speak to my heart, leading me to try and learn the language of the birds. It is still a work in progress.

The tagline ‘ultimo habitat ores mundi’ is Latin and translates as ‘inhabitants of the world’s edge. As I’ve gotten older, I have come to realize that the world’s edges are the places I truly enjoy being in. I like walking with one foot in the ordered world and one foot in the wilds of nature. Being an inhabitant of the world’s edge allows me to remember my dreams and have conversations with them. I can observe and enjoy the raw edges and perfected creations of nature — humans included. I am able to live truly knowing that humans are part of this world and of nature, not separated and not superior.

Dancing at the world’s edge has taught me — and continues to teach me — balance and grace.  I look forward to sharing this dance with you and learning how you, too, dance at the world’s edge.

1. Quenya is a fictional language spoken by the Elves in the legendarium of J.R.R. Tolkien.