They’re at it again, these two. Claire and L.L.
Asking us to stretch our “creative fibers.”
To share our history symbolically.
In photographic images.
And poetry–a sonnet.
Claire challenges us to find five photos that answer five specific questions.
I didn’t realize how much my life has been shaped by wood.
1. Who Made Up Your DNA?
My great-grandfather, a lumberjack, carried this hammered dulcimer covered in burlap. He played it in camp. He later played a console dulcimer in Henry Ford’s Old Time Orchestra. It stands in my parents’ living room.
2. Where Do You Come From?
I lived on the lake and in the woods. I used to pick bouquets of these yellow water lilies. It must be why my heart flows in blues and greens, water and trees.
3. What object is precious to your past?
My brother (age 13) made this wood carving of my nursing school (SGH) insignia for my capping in 1968. He cut himself in the process and needed stitches. I was home for the weekend, and he refused to tell me why he was bleeding. I was furious at the time.
4. What Memory Resonates Most Deeply?
She didn’t say it had to be from childhood. (Although, I was probably still pretty much a child.) These lovebirds (feathers especially for Claire) symbolize our wedding 40 years ago in December–when I married a farmer’s son. Now I come from the earth as well as water and woods.
5. What Moment in History Marks Your Childhood?
My school once stood in this empty lot. I remember the tunnel-slide fire escape that exited from one of the rooms–the room I was in when we got the news that President Kennedy had been shot.
Walking Wooden
The forest echoes hammered melodies,
weeps for songs played by scarred hands on stringed wood
fashioned from the bleeding hearts of fallen trees,
a testament to where the pines once stood.
Hewn log huts, leaf sheltered and fern embraced,
point to pooled tears yellow bobbed and padded green.
Reflections of the past and rippled grace
pour peace from swirling storms as yet unseen.
Sweet scent of sawdust clings to craftsman’s hand
that hammers nails to build and mend the broken,
sands sleek and polishes as he has planned.
Imagination in artistry thus spoken.
A Carpenter created all of this for me,
walking wooden in a blood-stained tree.
Note: When we moved “up north,” my parents purchased four log cabins (Heska’s Huts) and later built a six-room motel (the Deerland Motel) on a lake. I visited there recently. That walk to the lake seem a lot longer when my legs were shorter. Not that they’re so long now.
Where do you come from?
This was an enjoyable adventure. 🙂
Did you get to stitch up your brother?
Umm, no. He’s lucky he didn’t need more. My parents got home just in time as I remember.
The scent of sawdust is a reminder of my father, too. He was a sawyer for many years and did some carving in the later years of his life.
My dad carves some very cool canes.
I’m speechless.
Thank you.
Thanks, Sheila. This was a tough one. So many other photos I could have used. So many directions to go in.
Loved every single word and photo, Sandra. Wow. The black and white work so well with the history theme, too.
Thanks so much, Patricia. I debated between the color and black and white. Funny–I took the photo of the dulcimer this month for a totally different reason. I had it for awhile, but the wood is so dry now, tuning it could be hazardous to its health.
Sandy, that sonnet is absolutely BEAUTIFUL! Wow! And I agree with Sheila, you’ve left me speechless.
Cindee, considering how you weave your words so beautifully, you bless me so.
Ah, the artist at work once again, in picture and word. Thank you for these fine gifts, Sandy. LOVED it all.
I did do the photos after all, but could not for the life of me figure out how to join the High Calling Group – did a search and it never turned up. But then, as we all know, I am technologically delayed. :>( I think maybe I’ll add them to the sonnet post. Lord knows, that thing could sure use some help.
You are such a blessing, Diana. Thank you.
I’m emailing you right now.
Sandra, this was simply beautiful. I loved the parts of you that you picked to represent who you are. They have such deep meaning in your life. The thought that went into planning these photos and story is exquisitely evident.
And the words–so touching. Then to tie it in with the Cross.
Words fail here to describe.
Blessings,
Janis
Thanks so much, Janis. After I posted this, I thought of so many other directions I could have gone.
Sandra,
Your images with photos and words drew in my heart. I have a hammered dulcimer and my grandkiddos love plunking on it.
For many years I had birds indoors, but now just enjoy them outside:)
But the words that caught and held are that you come from water and woods…and this “Reflections of the past and rippled grace
pour peace from swirling storms as yet unseen.”
Don’t know if you’ve read my sonnet, but I think we’re both “woodsies.”
Isn’t that amazing, Connie? I have a newer dulcimer now, but I can only plunk it. I need to break it out and tune it up. Sounds like the wood is in our blood.