Is it Spring yet? by Nancy M Bell

 

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Spring

I chose the cover of The Selkie's Song because it's just so pretty and reminds me that Spring is coming. Really, it is.

With that in mind I thought I'd just share some of my poetry that celebrates Spring.

May Moonlight

How many times have you heard

You can’t go back again?

It’s true you know, you can’t

You can go back to the way things are now

Never to the way things were then.

Long summer nights spent under the stars

Riding in the moonlight up Spy Glass Hill

The May darkness rich with the perfume of apple blossoms

The orchard ghostly white in the gloaming

The world is dark around me where I stand alone

Once more at the apex of that steep hill

Silence gathers, deep and still

Muffling the subtle chatter of the river

I see them coming through the cedars

Rising through the pearly clouds of flowering trees

Young and confident riding sure footed horses

Too young to know how the sweetness of this moment

Will linger in memory long years after this enchanted night

Celebrate

The banners of Spring are flying on the blue of morning

Yellow catkins dance in the sunlit air over the ice-skim puddle

Purple crocus carpet the brown and grey prairie

Bright butter yellow jonquils nestle close to the house foundation

Sheltered from the ever present Alberta winds

Spring comes riding the coat tails of the mighty Chinook

The earth breathes in misty tendrils above the rough ploughed field

 

Winter’s back is broken, melt water runs like blood

Warm sun shyly promises the glory of June to come

Alberta blue sky and flowering prairie flowing forever

The long cold months are gone, come celebrate Spring  

But Spring doesn't always come gently, does it?

Spring Snow

The storm demons are howling rabidly across the sky

Dragging their icy talons against the window glass

Screeching their defiance through the hydro wires

Buffeting the house with their fists of wind

Shrieking they the fall upon the exposed prairie

Vomiting great gouts of snow to cover the earth

They hurl handfuls of icy pellets in my face

As I struggle to let the stock into the barn

Mean spiritedly they snatch the door from my frozen fingers

Slamming it open and popping one of the hinges

I bare my teeth at them and wrestle the door from their grasp

Hold it steady as the horses troop in out of the angry storm

The bale of hay spills its summer scent in the frigid air

A sunlit meadow song to battle the storm raging outside

The storm demons grab me in their teeth and shake me

As I blindly make my way back to the house

Power and fury personified; they scream their defiance

Their voices howling through the wind in my ears

Reluctant to exchange the winds of winter

For the thunderheads of summer 

Seasonal Sestina

Why is it that the first flowers of Spring

Are so special and the green of new leaves

Wakes a wild joy in my heart

Is it because they signal the end of Winter

Filled with the promise of long summer days

And the lazy hum of honey bees among the flowers

The tiny white snowdrops are among the first flowers

Along with the purple crocus of Spring

Courageously piercing the snow with their leaves

Small purple clusters to gladden my heart

Throwing a gauntlet in the face of Winter

Shining brightly through the short Spring days

The snow retreats with the lengthening of days

The garden paths are strewn with clots of flowers

The sweet bouquet of flower scented Spring

Bright daffodils dance above their pointed leaves

The tulips glowing red as the sun’s heart

They chase from the path the last of snowy Winter

Now only under the brambles lies the evidence of Winter

Soon that too will retreat from the sunny days

The lilacs burst into a froth of fragrant purple flowers

The scent mingling with the sun warmed air of Spring

Slow awakening summer flowers break the soil with their leaves

Heralding the coming of Summer’s heart

Spring passes softly into summer; the pulsing green heart

That rules the year opposite the white of Winter

The long halcyon green and gold days

Forged by the fire of the sun and the glory of flowers

There is just the faintest memory now of Spring

The full heady bounty of Summer canopied by trees of leaves

In due course fiery autumn will colour the leaves

And the flames of October will quicken the heart

The winds of snow will welcome the Winter

The frosty silver and blue of early winter days

Will make us forget the summer of flowers

Too new and beautiful yet to make us wish for Spring

By January we will be wishing for green leaves and Spring

Our heart will have hardened against the silver beauty of Winter

And we will hunger after the days of Summer and flowers 

Thanks for sticking with me this far, and here's hoping Spring is right around the corner.

Until next month, stay well, stay safe

You Never Know What Tomorrow May Bring by Nancy M Bell

Well, I must say things have changed drastically since last month. I have spent the holidays in Winnipeg, Manitoba at the Health Sciences Centre. Not exactly how I planned to spend Christmas, New Year's and all of January up to this point. My oldest son, who is respected Equine Surgeon, was admitted to ICU on Christmas Eve suffering from some strange symptoms. He has been in ICU ever since and up until last Monday we had no diagnosis. It is without a doubt one of the scariest things I have ever experienced. A huge team of doctors, encompassing more areas of expertise than I can remember, were stumped. Many procedures and tests followed, some of which were sent to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN. While they waited for results to come in they began treating him for what they believed was most likely to be the cause. A lot of very terrifying conditions and diseases were talked about, most of which did not have good outcomes. We faced the fact that our son might never leave the ICU alive.
Then last Monday night, January 11, which is actually his birthday, one of his doctors came into the room and said he had some news. A test came back positive for a condition that was treatable! It is a surreal feeling to be overjoyed to be told that your son has a rare form of encephalitis. It was the best news we could have gotten, because it was a treatable thing. The chances of full recovery are very good. We are not out of the woods yet and there is a long road to do down yet, but at least there is a road to walk down with a light at the end of the tunnel.

So, the point of me telling you this is....? Never take anything for granted, ever. Hug your kids, tell them you love them, no matter how old they are. Tell your friends what they mean to you. There are no guarantees in life and this has been brought home to me very clearly. Who would ever guess that a healthy successful thirty-five year old would become incapacitated so quickly. In the space of a few days he went from a highly functioning professional to being hooked up to a machine that breathed for him. Take the time to appreciate the glory of the sunrise, the magnificence of a sunset, the diamond points of the stars on a clear night. Dance in the moon shadows on crisp white snow under the full moon. Don't hate Mondays or wish away the cold winter months longing for spring. Live in the moment of each and every day. Come Hell or High Water live life to the fullest to the best of your ability. Wishing you Peace, Joy, Love and Happiness each and every day of your lives.

You can visit my website, follow me on twitter @emilypikkasso and on Facebook

I am currently working on the next book in the Arabella's Secret series. The Selkie's Song is the first book and is available at Amazon and where good books are sold everywhere.

Do We Ever Really Grow Up" by Nancy M Bell

 

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 Lately I've been thinking about old times when I was a kid. Not sure what's brought this tide of nostalgia sweeping over me. It got me to thinking about how no matter how old I get chronologically I can still revert back to the child I was in an instant. Sometimes it's the smell of moth balls that takes me back to opening up the cottage at the lake in the spring time. The memories are so vivid it seems like I should just be able to step through the veils and become part of the scene again. There's people living in my memory that I'd love to talk to again and walk down the old roads again.

Just this week I somehow came across a posting on Facebook and learned that a person I knew many years ago had passed away. I never knew him well because he was a bit older than me. But his cottage was on the same lake as ours and I kind of grew up with him in the peripheral circles of my friends. I knew who he was, he knew who I was, and we always smiled and waved at each other. I had the hugest crush on him for years. Even though I haven't been to the lake since the early 1980's and frankly haven't thought about this guy for literally years, the news of his death saddened me very much. I think somehow in a corner of my mind I believe that all those years of memories are still living and breathing somewhere out there in the ether. In my heart we will all be forever young and vibrant.

Silly, I know. Sometimes the urge to return to those places is so strong. Almost as if I believe if I go to the places that held us then, that somehow some vestige of beings will still exist there. All those summer nights we built a bonfire on the beach and sat on the big granite rock and sang songs. All people I still love and miss even though I haven't seen them in years. I still remember the white violets growing in the ditch by the gravel road where I used to walk with Gramma Breckon and her little dog Mitzi. She wasn't really my gramma, but she was part of my extended family.

It's not just people, either. All the horses I have ever known still live in my memories. Realistically, I know they are mostly dead and gone now, but if I close my eyes I can still see their dear faces and feel them under me as we ride down old trails with old friends who are no longer with us. Each horse is subtly different in their movement and the connection to me through the reins. In my heart I am eternally sixteen. Now if only I could be sixteen with the knowledge of the world I have now, what a difference that would make.

I'm not sure I really want to grow up and leave all that behind me. The magic I felt the first time I rode down the ravine in Scarborough under a canopy of newly minted spring leaves, the air around me all green and gold and speckled with sunlight. The ravine is still there but there's a parking lot for the subway where the barn used to stand. The river is all concreted and civilized, but the wildness still exists.

In those days I wrote poetry and scribbled stories in duo tang folders on binder paper. I still have them, though I cringe to read some of it now. White Lightning- about a horse of course. Trails of Life which wound the lives of an old cowboy, a wild stallion and an twisted pine tree together. Wrote that in Grade 7 I think. It might actually be worth dusting off and doing a major overhaul on. Or not... It would have helped my self esteem at the time to know I'd actually be a real live published author. Late last night I finished the first book in a new series. It will be my eighth published novel. I still remember the thrill when I got my first contract. Something I thought would never happen.

The new novel is called The Selkie's Song and is the first book in the Arabella's Secret series. It tells the story of the heroine in my The Cornwall Adventures series grandmother. Unlike the Laurel storied, this series in not YA Fantasy, but Paranormal Romance. I may at some time do a G rated version of the story for those younger readers. Watch for The Selkie's Song in September from Books We Love.

Until next month...Oh wait, I forgot to tell you. Next month at this time I will be (should be LOL) all packed and ready to go on a Hawaiian cruise! Fifteen days of pampering and sitting on the balcony and watching the waves go by. Time to get in some reading and relaxing. I'll tell you all about it in October. Come November it will be time to update you on the Surrey International Writers Conference and shenanigans I get up to there very year. Until then Salient Be well and may you be in Heaven an hour before the devil knows you're dead.