One of Mary Oliver's most popular poems--The Summer Day

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

+ Mary Oliver

I first came across the last two lines of this poem before I knew that there was an entire poem in front of them. This poem is from Mary Oliver's House of Light collection. I've since purchased several volumes of her poetry and am savoring them as I read them. So much of what she writes about is a reminder for us to be truly mindful (before it became a trendy word), to be present in our own lives. She wants us to pay attention to our own life and the life around us--insects, birds, fish, small animals and large animals. In some of her other poems she even wonders about what stones feel and think. I love that. 

In this poem, her way of praying is to pay attention, to fall and kneel in the grass, to be idle and blessed, even though she isn't really sure what a prayer is. But what is prayer if not this? She cultivated the ability to 'wonder', to be surprised by and grateful for nature at every turn. 'Wonder' is defined as 'a feeling of amazement and admiration, caused by something beautiful, remarkable, or unfamiliar'. It is the wonder we experienced as children when we came across something beautiful or unfamiliar. I know I felt wonder when I as a child looked at the underside of fern fronds and saw spores, which are the ferns' method of reproduction, or when we went on a field trip and went looking for moss's reproductive structures. Or observed lichen growing on a rock. Or when we collected leaves from different trees in the autumn. Or when we saw snow-laden branches on a fir tree, how beautiful they looked, or ice formations in small brooks and even on the Hudson River. I knew wonder when my father and I sat at his desk in the evening with the small microscope he and my mother bought for me, and we looked at the already-prepared slides of diatoms (single-celled algae) that came with the microscope set. So amazing to see these magnified tiny organisms that make their home in sea water and fresh water. 

I think if we retain our ability to wonder throughout our lives, we will be able to tap into our 'child lives'. Not childish or silly lives, but rather lives that are open to the world. A kind of purity of soul, uncontaminated by the negativity and evil around us. Innocent as it were. It's not easy. But if we say no to cynicism and negativity, we leave more room for wonder. It's a good start. 

Summer days in July

It is still summer in Oslo, in fact, it's been quite a warm summer from mid-June until now. My garden is thriving; we've already eaten zucchinis and cucumbers that grew quickly in the summer heat. We will have a bumper crop of tomatoes this year--both regular and cherry tomatoes. Whenever I am away from the garden for a few days, as I was now while we vacationed in Hedmark, and then come back to the garden, I am always in awe of just how much growth can occur in the space of a few days. Yesterday was the first day I was back in the garden after having been away since Monday. There were gooseberries and raspberries to pick, and the blueberries are also starting to ripen. I still have a formidable job of berry-picking ahead of me. The two gooseberry bushes alone are weighed down by the sheer numbers of berries on them. As I was picking raspberries, I was competing for each berry with the honeybees, who are now sucking the nectar out of the raspberries. They did that last year as well, but there were very few of them. This year it's as though all the worker bees descended on the raspberry patch. 

Today is the last day of July, and next week it will be back to work for most of us. I will finish out the month of August and then I am free forever of the work world. But that is another story for another time. Today I want to share with you Mary Oliver's beautiful poem The Summer Day. The feelings and thoughts she describes in her poem are about where I am in life at present--willing to immerse myself in the nature around me, willing to abandon myself to the awe and wonder of it all. A garden is God's manifestation of a miracle in nature; how a pollinated flower produces a long hanging cucumber is a mystery and a miracle at the same time. I never cease to be amazed by the power and beauty of nature. I have said it before, but it's worth repeating--it is no surprise to me that paradise is described as the garden of Eden. Paradise for me would have to be a garden. 

The Summer Day 

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean--

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

With your one wild and precious life?

Nature's gifts

When my husband and I lived in San Francisco for a year (back in 1993), we visited Muir Woods, which was one of the most memorable places we visited that year. This national monument has many old redwood trees, some of which are more than 150 years old. I remember being in awe of the redwood trees, how tall they are, how beautiful, and how amazing it is that they exist. Muir Woods was named for John Muir, the Scottish-born American naturalist, writer, and advocate of U.S. forest conservation (info from Wikipedia). Just some background for this quote for today, which is so true. Nature provides connection with the life around us, peace, solitude, silence, and simple joy. 

When people think they are god

Time moves us on, away from unpleasant events and unpleasant people. Given enough time, chaos evolves into calmness and life begins to feel more normal. Balance is restored. That is the way of the world. Nature for example, continues to do what it always has done. Provide us with beautiful views of sunrises and sunsets, of pristine lakes, of snow-covered mountains, gorgeous gardens and green forests. But where there is beauty there is also brutality. Where there is life there is also death and decay. Where there is paradise on earth, we know that there is also hell on earth. We know that from all of the nature documentaries that drive those points home. We are careful when we are in nature, because it is wild and unpredictable. There are earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis, landslides--natural catastrophes that we cannot prevent or warn about with 100% effectiveness. We cannot just wander onto a mountain covered in snow and ignore avalanche warnings. We would not sail a boat out onto the ocean in the middle of a hurricane. We use reason to create a relationship with nature that we can live with, in order to co-exist peacefully with it. Sometimes we try to subdue it and sometimes we are successful at it. But we cannot tame it. 

Nature is a reminder that there is good and evil in the world. Both exist independently of man. If humans had never set foot on the earth, there would still be gorgeous sunsets and hellish volcanoes and tsunamis. There would still be gentle animals and brutal ones. There would still be life and death. 

Human beings did set foot on the earth. Mankind became a part of nature, and has even tried to dominate nature. But humans will never succeed at that. Human beings have tried their best during all the centuries to dominate nature and other humans in the quest for power and greed. Many humans don't understand this obsession with power and greed; I am one of them. When this obsession gets out of hand, as it has especially during the past decade, nature supplies a correction that we are forced to focus on because if we don't, it means that many human beings will die. The current pandemic is a good example of such a correction. A vaccine may help to control it, but there will come other pandemics. There have always been, and always will be, bacteria and viruses that infect animals and humans. They exist in nature, independently of man's existence. Sometimes human beings make critical mistakes, that lead to bacteria and viruses getting the upper hand. Sometimes those mistakes are made in the name of greed and power. Hubris is a major failing in human beings, and has far-reaching consequences. Hubris says that man can do whatever he likes in and with nature. He cannot. 

I bring all this up in light of the current political situation in the USA. Nature does not care about Donald Trump, nor does he care about nature. That is a problem by itself. Corrections will continue to come regardless of whether he cares or not. But if he was more respectful toward everything, he might contribute to a world where respect for the power of nature increased. As it stands now, he does not understand his role as leader or even why he exists. He has abused his position and disgraced our country. His gods are greed and power. The irony is not lost on me that it is under his administration that a pandemic arose. From a scientific point of view, I know that it is merely a random event in nature; it could just as well have arisen under Biden. But its emergence in the age of Trump is simply one more reminder of the importance of having respect for nature, for its wildness, its unpredictability, its brutality. It is a reminder that we cannot ignore the natural world because it doesn't 'fit' with our plans. He is not a person for whom respect is important. I would imagine that if he could, he would bend and destroy nature to suit his purposes. He thinks he is God.

Nature is a good reminder of all that's right with the world

I saw this video for the first time tonight, and loved it. Beautifully-filmed nature shots, a reminder that the world really is a wonderful place. Every time I need a reminder, I'll check out this video......

Birds, wild animals and food and reflections on Cities (Planet Earth II)

I have been reflecting on the tendency of nature to get used to getting their food from humans. Specifically, I am thinking about the birds that sit on our balcony railing each morning, waiting for us to enter the kitchen. They ‘sense’ when we get up in the morning (don’t ask me how); I’m not sure when they arrive. I do know that they sit out there and wait, occasionally cocking their heads to see if we have entered the kitchen. They make their presence known—and that they are waiting for their daily sunflower seed handouts. I have fed them throughout the winter months, but now that spring is here, most of the birds have disappeared. I assume that they understand that they can now find food on their own. But there is one pigeon who still shows up each morning—the lone bird waiting for his ration of seeds. I am still feeding him, while wondering at the same time how long he will continue to come to us for food. Because some animals and birds get used to the handouts and perhaps no longer feel the need to find their own food. I don’t know how old this bird is, but perhaps he is older and simply tired of trying to find food on his own each day. If that is the case, I will continue to give him food. Because I know that one day he may not come back, and it could be because he has become sick or has died. I hope it will be because he has decided to not depend on us for food anymore, at least not until next winter. I do know that it would be so easy to train him, to tame him. Perhaps one day I will try to do that—when I have the time to do so and the time to follow up. I have a friend at work, an older man from Eritrea, who has done just that, with many pigeons. He told me recently that he wants to write a book about how to train pigeons, because he wants his children to carry on his work after he is gone.

One of David Attenborough’s Planet Earth II episodes, Cities, dealt with the topic of how wild animals and birds have adjusted to city life, because food is plentiful and they don’t have to spend hours scrounging for a meal. There are the hyenas in Ethiopia, who enter the city of Harar each night to receive meat from the butcher shops and city dwellers who are not afraid of them. Those were amazing scenes, but also scary ones to witness. There are the leopards in Mumbai, India who hunt the pigs and small animals on the city outskirts and in the parks by night, where humans walk. There are the monkeys in Singapore that steal fruit and vegetables from the city produce markets. There are the peregrine falcons in New York City who feed on the numerous city pigeons. And so on. Many of these animals and birds are not afraid of humans or the masses of humans in cities, and that is a good thing from the standpoint of their getting more than enough food to eat. It is a bad thing for us if some of the carnivores decide to add humans to their menu. In any case, it is interesting to observe the wild animal and bird world (from the safety of our living room couches) and to marvel at how well they adapt to the growth/expansion of cities and to the loss of their natural habitats. That is not always a good thing. I would prefer that wild creatures remain in the wild, for their sakes and for ours, but mostly theirs.

Sunday's photographic treasures

Today was another beautiful mild winter day in Oslo--sunshine, blue skies and a spring feeling in the air. Much of the snow from yesterday's snowstorm is melting. It was good to be outdoors. We took an hour's walk down and back along the Aker River (Akerselva) and stopped into one of the river cafes near Brenneriveien for coffee before heading home. Of course I had to take some photos along the way, and here they are--no particular rhyme or reason for taking them--just that the motifs caught my eye. It can be the play of sunlight on the water, or the shadows of the trees on the snow, or the rawness of street art. I'm also including a few photos from yesterday's snowstorm when I was out walking; then it was the trees and bushes covered in snow that attracted my photographic eye. It's very cool to be out walking right before twilight. Enjoy........

the beautiful Akerselva (Aker river)

Akerselva

Akerselva

Akerselva

unsigned street art, or is BT the artist?

unsigned street art

Gamle Aker church

Kjærlighetsstien

Connection to nature

As I've written many times before, I go to my garden to get some peace and solitude when I need them, which is often these days. I don't mind being around people generally, or being at work or being social. But there is something about the lure of a garden, about the chance to be alone for several hours, connected to the earth--nothing beats it. Working with the earth, watching plants grow slowly, flower and produce vegetables and fruit, and then die at the end of the season--it's all a part of the cycle of nature. I am so glad to watch nature at work, so glad to not be divorced from it anymore. There is something inherently wrong, even sick, with the way we live our the major portion of our lives, cooped up in offices or workplaces that are lighted by fluorescent lights and ventilated by air-conditioning/internal air. There is often no possibility to open a window to get real fresh air in many new office buildings. I've begun to go outdoors at lunchtime when I can, just to get some fresh air and sunshine, and to be able to walk.

It's been a very warm September, so my pumpkins are almost ready to harvest. I've already harvested two of them, one that is fifteen pounds and the other eight pounds. I planted twelve pumpkin plants and each of them yielded a pumpkin; the slugs ate one, leaving eleven, of which ten have grown to maturity. I'm still getting runner beans and string beans, but all other veggies are done for the season. I plan on drying some of the runner beans so that I can get seeds for planting next year. The corn was very good, just small, so next year I'll plant corn in richer soil so that it can grow larger. The hollyhocks and daisies are still blooming. I've been working hard prepping the garden for winter--taking up dead plants, cutting dead branches, and preparing the soil for next spring. Plus mowing the lawn and raking up dead leaves and dried grass to use as soil cover.

I bought honey from the garden's beekeeper who was selling small and large jars of the honey he had collected from hives in our community garden and from the Botanical Garden here in Oslo. It's very good honey, and it's kind of cool to know that my garden contributed to the honey that the bees made. I love that idea.

ripening pumpkins

runner beans

two harvested pumpkins

honey from our community garden; soldugg means 'sundew'

A visit to Duke Farms

Living overseas has its challenges, especially when it comes to visiting New York once a year. I usually make the trip back to my birth country and hometown during the summer months, and there are usually a myriad of places to go and people to see. Since I have limited time in New York, I have to plan how to use that time well. Every moment counts and I don’t want to spend my precious time doing things that are meaningless or that don’t give me joy. So I am together with the people who are dear to me, and I frequent those places that make me happy or that have the potential of doing so. In that way, I can include places I’ve never visited but want to visit in that category. Most of them are in New York State, but some of them are not. This year, on a hot sunny August day, I had the privilege of visiting Duke Farms in Hillsborough New Jersey together with my good friends Stef and John (married thirty-five years this year) who live in Hillsborough. We have talked about visiting Duke Farms together for a few years now; they’ve been there many times. Oddly enough, I lived near that area of New Jersey for four years before I moved to Oslo, but never visited Duke Farms before now. This year we managed a visit, and it was well-worth it, as the following photos will document. I include two links to Duke Farms here so that you can read more about this wonderful place: http://www.dukefarms.org and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duke_Farms

near entrance to Duke Farms

sycamore allée--Duke Farms

unsure what kind of bird this is

notice the frog sitting on the rock

algae-covered pond in background

the foundation for a mansion that JB Duke never built

dead tree in algae-covered lake

the Great Falls empty into Vista Lake (not much flowing water at the time this photo was taken)

The feeling of Easter--walking along the Akerselva river

Spring has arrived in Oslo, and I took a long walk today up along the Akerselva river. Watching the river and the land come back to life after winter’s pall warms my heart the way the sun warms my face and hands. It’s the best feeling in the world—walking along the river on a sunny blue-sky spring day, not a care in the world. This is the feeling of Easter—a peaceful rebirth of the heart and soul, and nature reflects that. Trees and bushes are budding en masse, the magpies, seagulls, ducks, pigeons and sparrows are out in force, sitting in the tree branches, searching for worms in the earth, sitting at the river's edge, or flying overhead. Green ivy is starting to make its way up along the stone wall of a house. Daffodils and tulips are blooming, forsythia likewise. And the river? It does what it does best—flows along through the natural curves and bends in the landscape, through the city that borders its banks, and over the small waterfalls. The stillness and peace of a walk along the river, out in nature, are gifts that money cannot buy. I have waited an entire winter to feel like this. 

Flirting at the river's edge

Reaching for the sun

Pigeons roosting

Magpie nest

Hanging blooms

Reflections of spring

The Akerselva River winding its way through Oslo

River curve and tree shadow

Ivy on its way to taking over a wall

Daffodils add color to the greens

The waterfall at Hønsa Lovisas house

Tulips are a true sign of spring

Winter comes to Norway

Scenic Elverum

Icicle formations

Snowy road in Elverum

Snowy Oslo

Trees in Ullevålsveien

Vår Frelsers gravlund (cemetery)

City pigeon

View of St. Olav's Catholic church (hospital to the left)

right before sunrise

Winter sunrise