The Reindeer Keeper

  I am happy to say I can again attach photos to my Blogger posts. That means I will be back posting more often. To me, a photo enhances a post so here we go again. As summer drifts into fall small changes in the landscape are becoming obvious. The clouds seem fuller. Closer to the earth. Their presence speak of the magic taking place. Shades of green seem to be creating a blanket of softness reminiscent of a favorite old sofa welcoming you back with its comfortable old cushions. Most trees, except for a few poplar trees, remain dressed in their leaves. Most of those leaves, except for the poplar leaves, have yet to change color. Those that have, turned to a mellow yellow.  Thanks to the wind, those mellow yellow leaves are spreading themselves about the field. And because of the wind, all the surrounding poplar trees with their precious yellow leaves sound like violins playing out in that magical field, changing once again. Mother Nature certainly out did herself again, turni...

  I knew at some point the magnificent poplar tree standing proudly in front of our home would have to come down. It was showing signs of aging. It was getting tired. Because it was so close to the road, I worried it might fall on a passing vehicle. With great sadness I contacted who I needed to contact and shortly after that, the magnificent and glorious Poplar tee was taken down. I know it was just a tree but growing up I loved listening to the leaves of the Poplar trees lining my grandparents' cinder driveway. Their singing was music to me so when my son Brian and I moved to the country with that mighty Poplar tree greeting us with its own melodies, I felt at home. Sometimes when the wind was blowing in the night, the mighty Poplar would wake me up singing its soulful song. The rustling of its leaves was soothing, telling me everything would be just fine, lulling me back to sleep. Whenever I was out in the garden, the Poplar was right there with me, moving its precious leaves li...

My mother loved snapdragons.  When we lived out in the country she grew snapdragons along a rock wall beside our house that was painted yellow. Once the snapdragons were fully grown the colors were breathtakingly vibrant-everything from marvelous magenta to orangey orange to sunshine yellow, purple haze, and snowy white.  It was like growing rainbows. When my mother didn't have time to weed her snapdragons, she'd ask me to go out and do the pulling of weeds between each plant. I loved pulling the weeds especially when the sun was shining and a breeze was coming over the fields, across the creek and up the hill. I'd bring some cookies along. Most always I'd have to go back inside sooner than later and get some more. But while I enjoyed the cookies, I enjoyed sitting there surrounded by snapdragons even more. Especially when they started to sing. Oh I had to help them a little. And only snapdragons that had fallen to the ground joined in the chorus. The others would stand...

Growing up in the country provided the perfect spooky setting when Halloween was looming. Poplar trees with limbs bare transformed themselves into scrawny fingers ready to snatch any one of us kids as we ran by in a hurry. Leaves scurrying over the fields evolved into mice rushing toward us. We were certain our grandfather's old barn with its main door creaking in the howling wind sounded more like screeching witches cackling under the big orange moon. But Halloween wasn't only looming outside with bats swooping down and ghosts swirling about. Things were happening inside the house as well. Especially in the kitchen. For as long as I can remember when my mother would go to the cupboard and take out her largest cooking pot and set it on top of the stove as the leaves fell and the wind blew and homes were decorated with pumpkins and cornstalks and my cousins and I were figuring out what we'd be for Halloween, I knew what my mother was going to make. She made it come every Oct...

Running alongside and circling behind our grandparents' farmhouse was a cinder driveway. It made for a great race track until going so fast on your bike you couldn't slow down in time to take the curve and you'd find yourself crashing into the field or our grandmother's peony bushes. To this day I still have cinders in my knees. Lining the other side of the driveway were tall poplar trees. They were mighty. Proudly they stood through the rain and snow. And when the wind blew, their leaves sang a most amazing song that remains my favorite of all the needles and leaves singing when the wind pushed its way through them. While pine trees seemed to hum, those poplar trees sang a ghoulish, rustling tune and no other night was more ghoulish than Halloween as that wind seemed to orchestrate those leaves into the spookiest, creepiest, gut-wrenching, fearful, eerie, whaling scream that made us run through the fields splinte...