14 January 2017

Library Lipstick - Missoula Public Library, Missoula, Montana

Oh, happy nostalgia, sparking at random! 

My green-thumbed mum nurtured a lipstick plant as splendid as this one now blooming in the Missoula Public Library's front entry. Early (ie brown pigtails, cherubic grin with dimples) memory snapshots include standing in clear, cool winter sunlight that streamed through the living room picture window, peering keenly at scarlet blooms emerging from the "lipstick" casing, standing as close as I dared and still able to truthfully declare,  "I'm not touching!".

Of course, I probably was supposed to be dusting, so the Mayberry-esque memory disintegrates right about there...aaand, cut! then fade into the scene with the little red tricycle and pig-tailed child gamely peddling round and round on the one flat pad of concrete on the whole farm. 

Call me Pollyanna, but I hold that it's not a bad thing to remember the best of times - provided you still subscribe to living and learning.

13 January 2017

Freelance Feather - Missoula, Montana

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul 
And sings the tune without the words 
And never stops at all..."

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), 
from “Hope” is the thing with feathers - (314)

(Part of the reason I adore this poem is because my dear Sis #2 shared it with me as encouragement many, many moons ago.Thanks, sissy, for a melodic and enduring reminder of truth.)

12 January 2017

10 January 2017

Singing Pines, Perhaps - Missoula, Montana

"Born like the pines to sing,
   The harp and song in m’ breast,
Though far and near,
There’s none to hear,
I’ll sing as th’ winds request."

- from Born Like the Pines bJames Ephraim McGirt  (1874–1930)

09 January 2017

Needles Of The Pines - Missoula, Montana

"If Mother Nature patches 
leaves of trees and vines, 
I'm sure she does her darning 
with the needles of the pines, 

They are so long and slender; 
and somewhere in full view, 
She has her threads of cobweb 
and a thimble made of dew." 

- from Pine Needles by William Hamilton Hayne, (1856-1929)
Originator of Pine-Needle Basketry 

08 January 2017

When Trains Were Magic - Missoula, Montana

"...Oh, for the days when trains were magic:
iron dragons breathing smoke and fire, 
lashing long tails through the valleys 
with monstrous strength that never tired..."

- from Memory Rides The Rails - Poem Time Forgot by Faye Gibson