Thursday, December 3, 2020

WINTER NIGHT ...

"WINTER! At no time of the year are the skies of night more beautiful.
The pure cold air of night brings crystal skies; the stars seem larger; they sparkle individually, reflecting mirror-like into the frieze of ice along the western eaves, where I view them from a window seat.
As the moon moves high, its brightness unimpeded, it spreads its gleam against the snow and lights the moving waters of the creek. The night is peace and beauty.
If you ask how I could love the winter, how I could tolerate the cold against my aging skin, this is a reason why.

The magic of the winter night. "~~Rose Moore, after midnight 

Thursday, November 19, 2020

 

APPRECIATION FOR THIS MILD NOVEMBER NIGHT ...

l stood outside awhile in the mild air of this November night.

I heard an owl ... I saw Jupiter's brightness in the eastern sky ... I smelled smoke from someone's chimney, and it made me think of burning autumn leaves when that was legal; and suddenly I felt a deep nostalgia ...

Good night from this fine valley in which I live. I find it beautiful, even in the darkness.

Thursday, September 3, 2020

 This night was crystal-clear; so strongly bathed in moonlight; every ripple in the waters of the creek was sharply visible, and every leaf on every tree ... There was no cloud or rising mist to veil any sharp detail ... I couldn't sleep; I couldn't flip a switch to mute the brightness ...

And I couldn't bear to close the drapes against the beauty ...

Monday, August 10, 2020

SUMMER IN A TREE ...


 "A favorite memory of summer from my 

childhood is climbing up into a spread-armed

 maple tree where none could see me hidden

 in the thickness of the leaves.


 And in that coolness, privacy and peace, I 

would read.


An August never passes but what that 

memory revisits me." ~~Rose Moore

Friday, July 17, 2020

HOT JULY MORNING, 2020...

    Good morning! A joyful little wren sits on one of my wind chimes singing his heart out. It's incredibly blue in the sky, with not a bit of cloud or breeze...

    After watering my gardens and doing a bit of work with the hoe, I'm relaxing on the porch with my first morning coffee, enjoying it all before this muggy Monday reaches its prediction for un-breathable air and white-hot temps.

    And that, my friends, will be a good time for an AIR-CONDITIONED SIESTA!

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

MY BEAUTIFUL JULY OHIO ...

Despite the need for rain, these recent days have loveliness...

Blue skies rise along horizons lined with all the drama of a multiplicity of stacked white clouds that bear the look of mesas, buttes and western rock formations...


Freshening breezes gently sway the trees against the sky, like lazy brooms...

 
Birds of local species soar and sing along our rolling hills and valleys...


Flowers make our homestead gardens festive, and wildflowers add their sturdy colors to the roadsides ant the open pastures...


That and more! My northeast Ohio at its best!


WHEN MY SPIRIT NEEDS RESTORING, I TAKE A LITTLE RIDE THROUGH SUMMERTIME OHIO!

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

Sunday, June 21, 2020

THE CREEK CAN BRING PEACE ...

   Oh the peace of June mornings. I sometimes step onto the broad path at the edge of the woods that lead down to the barn. 
   Here the woodland is greatly softened by a lush understory of greenery, and I can sit on a bench or stand and admire the thickness of tree trunks that rise like dark Druids around me. 
   It's quiet here too at the end of the day, and I remember how my Bob used to like sitting then on a small concrete bench, watching the sunset reflect its colors into the upstream waters of the creek. 
   Nothing brought more peace to his spirit then sitting there for awhile, he would tell me, and I share that feeling.   

    After quiet time at the creek, I stroll back to the house, more than ready for the easy sleep that will prepare me for tomorrow. 
     And so, goodnight to all; I will be rising at dawn, as I usually do, to greet the new day.

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

REQUIEM FOR A WOOD THRUSH ...


MR. WOOD THRUSH WITH HIS SPRING-TIME NESTLINGS

        This is the first time you have been around my house and woodland. I've loved you since the first I heard your song. It echoed so melodious and rich throughout the valley as I walked to watch the sun rise.

      At first I couldn't spot you, then I realized you sang from the very top of the tall tree I often lean on as I watch the rising sun. Some people have said you have the finest voice among the songbirds; now I say that too.

         You greeted me with song at sunrise and again at sunset, every day. One morning I watched as you and the resident wren---who lives on my porch rent-free---foraged on opposite ends of my porch-side garden. And then you two engaged in your own spirited avian version of "Dueling Voices." I enjoyed that!

         Yesterday you flew so fast down from your tree-top to my porch; you collided hard; and you lay very still, I lifted you to a shady corner of the porch, in case you would come to. But no ...


         I will miss you and your songs. For me, your visit was a rare one, and if I never host another wood thrush, I'll remember and appreciate your visit.

Thursday, May 21, 2020

MORNING UNDER THE OLD WALNUT TREE ...


DAWN THIS MORNING was golden-bright; the new day GLEAMED! 

I walked down a path in the woods, toward the creek and Bob's barn, to visit this great tree--an old black walnut tree, always loved by me, Bob & the Big Dog Jack!


I leaned against the tree's broad trunk, and looking up through its long branches, I watched the deepening of blue sky and the rising of the creek-born morning mist.


AH, MORNING! For me, it's the best part of the day.  Especially this time of year!



Thursday, April 9, 2020

ADMIRING ONE FACE OF APRIL ...


THIS IS BUT ONE FACE OF APRIL, APPEARING BEFORE ME THIS MORNING.

HOW LONG IT WILL CHOOSE TO STAY IN MY VIEW,  I CANNOT POSSIBLY KNOW. 


FOR THESE MOMENTS, AT LEAST, I INHALE ITS BEAUTY INTO MY MOOD, 


AND MY SPIRIT EXISTS WITH THE TREES AND THE SKIES


AND IGNORES THE MUD AT MY FEET.






Sunday, April 5, 2020

A READING FOR CONNIE ON HER 90TH BIRTHDAY ...

CONNIE NAUMANN LUHTA 3-26-2020 ON HER 90TH BIRTHDAY
CONNIE (RIGHT) AND ROSE... 1965 , OAKES FIELD, NASSAU BAHAMAS
I WROTE THIS FOR CONNIE AND PERSONALLY READ IT TO HER ON HER 90TH BIRTHDAY.  IT WAS PRINTED A WEEK LATER IN GAZETTE NEWSPAPERS.

A FRIENDSHIP BORN IN THE AIR...

   Happy birthday to you, Connie Naumann Luhta, my friend and good neighbor." We might have been just passing acquaintances were it not for a wonderful curmudgeonly character, the businessman/owner of Lake County Oil--Karl Naumann, your father! 
   One day in the early 1960s, your father stopped at my desk at the Painesville Telegraph, and we talked about YOU. He confessed that it bothered him that the rigid rules of newspaper style in those days meant that every time his daughter's name appeared in an article, the family name Naumann was deleted from your name; it could only be your first name and your married name.  
   "I'd be proud for the readers to know whose kid she is," he admitted, and I understood. (Since I proof-read my own articles, I was sometimes able to sneak that Naumann name in as her middle name; that was enough to please a proud Papa Naumann.) 
   I had not personally met you then, Connie, but I knew who you were. Well known already as a senior research chemist at Standard Oil in Cleveland, you were also a skilled and active aviatrix. You were devoted to general aviation; and a popular speaker all over the region and beyond. You were the lady who liked to tell people, "If I can learn to fly, you can too."
   I fell in love with small-plane flying myself through the trip your father chartered to
watch you race airplanes in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan. That morning he called and invited my Bob and me with to be with the small cheering-section flying with him to   Mt. Pleasant, Michigan. That blue-sky trip to the race won me over and soon led me into my own flying lessons.
   The Mt. Pleasant event was a proficiency race. I packed up my newspaper notebooks and pens and big Crown Graphic camera; I knew you were a story worth covering, and that feature did fill the center section of the Telegraph's weekend supplement. But the best part of it was, it was the start of a long, special friendship.
   If I was impressed by your capabilities, skills and intelligence, Connie, so were the tribal elders from the Mt. Pleasant Chippewa Reservation, who witnessed the race. That day they would honor you in a solemn tribal ceremony to make you "one of their tribe forever." From there on, your name to them would be "Cloud Woman."
   Our friendship evolved quickly when I began my flying lessons at Concord Airpark; your home base. You were fun; you were kind; you were helpful; and we loved working together in Concord Airpark's social club, the Skylarks.  
  We helped to plan picnics, potlucks, dances, airshows, etc for pilots and families and miscellaneous friends of the Airpark. We enjoyed some flying adventures together; and like pilots and all who spent time at that grand local Airpark, we still think of those years as the "golden years" of that special place ...    
  In those years, the Airpark was enjoyed by the neighborhood too, and people were welcome there to gather and chat; watch planes take off and land; listen to old pilots engaging in a favorite pursuit we called "hangar-flying" ...
  Adolph J. Luhta, Airpark owner/operator/manager and good friend to all of us, became the love of your life. You were married 25 years when he passed away, and all these years later you sometimes tell me he still seems to sit on your shoulder to give his advice and share his opinions, as he always did.
  You became a part of my life and my family and my personal history. Your daughter Kathy and my third son Kevin were babies together; my mother-in-law was a frequent babysitter for Kathy, and our kids often played together. We watched each other's families grow up. 
We both shared an enduring devotion to our community of Concord Township, sometimes pursuing that dedication in individual ways, and sometimes together. 
  You were new to politics, Connie, when you first ran for trustee; I knew you did not venture into it FOR political reasons but because you thought you could do good things for Concord. 
  I remember during that first campaign; you'd drive by my house, and I'd be mowing my lawn, and you'd pull in "just for a moment." We'd end up in long conversation together--you sitting casually on the grass and me still perched on my tractor.
  You didn't win that first time around, or the second, but you didn't give up. It took a few tries, and when you succeeded and the people saw what you could do and how much you cared, they elected you over and over again. Until, just short of this birthday, when you chose your own time and retired but did not disappear. (Now you have more time to BE "Around Town" with me).
  Over the years, I've watched your accomplishments and awards pile up--too many to count in this spontaneous writing I began as a "small" birthday greeting. You didn't seek the awards; they came because you deserved them, and they never went to your head.
  Now it's another landmark birthday for you, and I have to say: If the Chippewas saw you as "Cloud Woman," your friends and fans have seen you as "Evergreen." You never seemed to grow older.
  The name's still appropriate on this 90th birthday. And we are still friends; more like sisters. 
  Over the years, you have truly and unfailingly been a good friend to your community too. And I and your friends and your fans all wish you more years among us! If we can keep up with you!

Friday, April 3, 2020

A NIGHT WITH THE STARS: ROSE FROZE!



I watched the ISS pass-over, and I enjoyed it. But it had nothing on the night sky itself.

The stars were spectacular; so large and bright it seemed I might have been transported upward among them; or had THEY come down to ME? It was as if I could reach up and touch them; like fruit on a tree.

The night itself was dark; no lights on the houses; no car lights; the sky and the air all around were ebony-dark. I LIVED in the stars; they were quiet; I had them all to myself ...


On my high deck I sat and did not intend to get up and go into the house, but even under my coat, I could feel the cold when the temperature sank to the 30s.

I went in and settled under warm quilts, and hoped for another spectacular star-gazing night such as this ... when the weather is warmer!