Delights–Three


There is nothing like meeting a goal while enjoying it to bring a sense of delight as well as accomplishment. I walk daily–today I arrived at day 707 without ever missing a day–looking at the flowers, visiting with all the other walkers. I live in a walking neighborhood with friendly walkers who at a minimum wave. Some stop to chat and some check on me if they have not seen me out walking in a while because of the different routes we take or different times we walk. One particular person who checks on me taught me how to make some of her native food–India. Another lady several blocks away prefers to walk with others, not alone, so if she sees me out, we join together in the company of her little dog, June, whom I have never seen actually walking. June rides in a baby carriage.

Now, as I write this, I’m enjoying another late afternoon of delight in my backyard. The hibiscus is full of ruby flowers. Freeway daisies, bright white and purple, pop up everywhere. Four different colors of bougainvillea sport their joy. One nasturtium–they are popping in places I never even planted–is sporting the same color of ruby as the hibiscus. The lemon tree is full of almost ripe lemons some of which I have promised to friends and neighbors. One woman cannot eat all these lemons. Meanwhile, I listen to different birds singing their varied songs and to the gurgle of the water fountain by the Nile Blue French doors and watch the hummingbird who is watching me.

I feel grateful to be surrounded in beauty and quiet joy.

Delights–2


As a person who works with high school students mostly non-white, many of whom have family members who are undocumented, I worry and need to find daily delights to stay sane. I decided to make a list of some of the past week’s delights:

-afternoons 70 degrees, sunny, no wind

-hummingbirds sipping nectar from both flowers and the two feeders

-singing a song the lyrics of which come from a poem by Langston Hughes where he dreams a world with no racism

-sitting on the back patio, listening to birdsong while I read a book about delights

-learning that all the rains have eliminated drought in California

-appreciating all the colors of the flowers blooming in my yard

Sunday Poem


This morning snow capped mountains

brought me joy.

In afternoon I

strolled through gardens,

lunched with daughter near gurgling streams.

Flowers smiled at me,

A bamboo forest beckoned.

Nature’s beauty overcame negativity, despair.

We will

Endure

Overcome.

El Barrio Bonito


Every week I go to Mendez High School in Boyle Hts., CA. Between meetings with my students, I take a walk in one of my favorite neighborhoods. Frequently when a person mentions low income housing, a negative image comes to their minds. Wrong. The neighborhood where I walk is beautiful, lovely places full of flowers. In one area the buildings are painted in joyous colors that make me smile every time I walk there. Here are photos for you to see for yourself.

Downtown LA in the background.

Perfect Spring Day


They tell writers, “Never ever use cliches.”

Sometimes I question that. When you

word a cliche, nearly everyone knows

exactly what you mean. For example:

This is a perfect spring day:

-birdsong wafting here and there,

mostly mockingbirds except for those

irredescent, orange-throated

hummingbirds at their feeder

-wind singing through the pines

-open windows for a change; it’s

75 degrees and sunny

-magenta and scarlet bougainvillea

climbing the garden wall

-white and lavender lantana

outdoing themselves with

spread and bloom

-geraniums in full flower

-mint growing so fast and tall

I already need to trim it.

I lounge on the patio reading

another novel, drinking rosewater

lassi, munching mixed nuts.

I feel gratitude for this

perfect spring day.

Nostalgia


Today is the first day of National Poetry Month. I am committing myself to write a poem a day. Here is the first one for the month.

Easter yesterday made me sad,

remembering children, grandson,

egg dying, egg hunting, family

together, laughter, joy.

Found photos of my family,

I, a child, dressed in Easter finery,

a family tradition. Dad bought us

corsages to wear every Easter,

pretty dresses in spring colors–

my favorite a pink dress trimmed

in scarlet, a unique combination

explained why I liked it so much,

felt special wearing it.

Today I wear pink and orange

together, admire the deep purple

and red bougainvillea, scarlet rosebuds,

snowy freeway daisies,

shining in the sun and wonder

will I live long enough to teach

a great grandchild to color

Easter eggs.