I’ve been toying with cutting my hair on and off for a half year. Last week a cousin in Germany sent me a photo of our great grandfather on my mother’s side. I’d never met him as he died a couple of years before I was born. Looking at the photo…. I decided I finally was ready to cut my hair…. for better or for worse.
‘Almost Cut My Hair’
~Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young~
Almost cut my hair
It happened just the other day
It’s gettin’ kind of long
I could’ve said it was in my way
But I didn’t and I wonder why
I feel like letting my freak flag fly
And I feel like I owe it, to someone
Must be because I had the flu for Christmas
And I’m not feeling up to par
It increases my paranoia
Like looking in my mirror and seeing a police car
But I’m not giving in an inch to fear
çause I’ve promised myself this year
I feel like I owe it, to someone
When I finally get myself together
I’m gonna get down in that sunny southern weather
And find a place inside to laugh,
Separate the wheat from the chaff
I feel …
Like I owe it, to someone, yeah
There you may stand in your splendor and jewels
Swaying me in both directions
One is the right one, the other for fools
How do I make my selection?
The city lies silent in the warm morning light
The sand is as golden as saffron
Oasis of love, sweet water of life
God bless the poor ones who have none though they have tried
Someone is drowning down there in the flood
But this river will dry by tomorrow
Is it ocean or stream, this love in my blood?
Bringer of joy or of sorrow?
The end of the journey must soon be in sight
Birth is the start of the swansong
Oasis of love, sweet water of life
God bless the poor ones who want some, but are denied
No one is given the map to their dreams
All we can do is to trace it
See where we go to, know where we’ve been
Build up the courage to face it.
While we fumble in the darkness where once there was light
Roaming the land of the ancients
Oasis of love, sweet water of life
God bless the poor ones whose patience never died
While we stumble in blindness where once there was sight
Searching for trees in the forest
Oasis of love, sweet water of life
God bless the poor ones who have none though they have tried
God bless the poor ones who want some, but are denied
God bless the poor ones whose patience never died
God bless the poor ones on that one-way donkey ride
Family is the only thing that goes with you beyond…
everything in this world can be taken in an instant….
but when you yourself leave…
you know you will see loved ones,
and will see the ones you leave behind again…
that’s the stuff that really matters.
Love is the thread that ties these worlds together…
love pulls you along from this to the next…
the net of God is loosely woven…
it covers all creation…
it passes easily everywhere without snagging….
like the tide it rushes in and out and nothing can escape its weave….
and He pulls in all He chooses… when He wishes….
Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus?
You gotta help me make a stand.
You just got to see me,
Through another day.
My body’s achin’,
And my time is at hand.
And I won’t make it,
Any other way I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain,
I’ve seen sunny days,
That I thought would never end.
I’ve seen lonely times,
When I could not find a friend.
But I always thought that I’d see you again.
Been walkin’ my mind to an easy time,
My back turned towards the sun.
Lord knows, when the cold wind blows,
It’ll turn your head around.
Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line,
To talk about things to come.
Sweet dreams and flyin’ machines,
In pieces on the ground.
Faith is something to hold fast onto.
But also keep your eyes and mind open…
remember the joke about the fellow who was told to evacuate because the flood was coming…
he said he put his faith in God who would tell him what to do…
Then the flood came, and a boat pulled up to his second floor window he was looking out of….
he told them to go away because God would protect him….
Later he was on the roof because the entire house was flooded, the helicopter hovered over him,
but he refused their help…
When he drowned and went to heaven, he was angry at God who did nothing to help him….
God said “But I sent the police to evacuate you, then a boat and a helicopter to rescue you,
but you turned my help aside each time”.
‘Variety is the spice of life’ say the old folks….
There’s some foods for instance that are great all alone…. tomatoes, watermelons etc…. but chop bits of them into a fruit salad, and you have nirvana in food. Life is made so much more enjoyable by having varied interests and scenes…
So too with the arts… weave poetry and tune together and you have a song….
Match a peerless singer such as Loreena McKennitt with a peerless poet such as William Butler Yeats…. you have Nirvana in the audio sphere.
This song by Loreena also has one of the most spectacular bagpipe intros I’ve ever heard.
This poem is not one to rush through… each stanza is so full, so deep in symbology
This is the California Live Oak in front of our house.
It is covered in pollen laden male flowers right now.
This particular tree is probably a good one hundred fifty years old.
This old Oak tree is about fifty feet across, and maybe forty feet high. These oaks are respected by almost anyone who sees them. Few people can regard a huge tree without some sense of awe at the huge mass of life they represent. They are a slow growing species, their reactions to stimuli such as flooding, changing water levels or disease are slow also. therefore they can have their conditions change radically and take some years for that to become apparent in the appearance of the tree. That is why you’ll often find people installing a lawn under such a tree, and it might take a few years before the constant moisture makes the tree start to die. The homeowners will be dumbfounded as they will not associate the conditions they have given the plant for three years with the recent changes in tree appearance.
These trees have adapted to and grown up with the prevailing California weather and soil conditions of the areas they inhabit. It is for this reason that they go into a short ‘aestivation’ in the heat of summer. This is a partial slowing down of processes so that the plant uses less moisture in the summer when we get no rain from May to October. But that same survival strategy can lead to death as the plant cannot tolerate constant moisture around their root zone through the summer.
We try to keep this old tree healthy, we don’t water too near the drip zone of the tree, and neither do we plant any water loving plants near it. This ensures that the tree gets no supplemental water in the summer.
The grasses under this tree are the ones that grow here naturally each year. We mow them down a few times a year, but they are annuals that will die down when the heat of summer comes. By July the area under the tree will be just the oak leaf mulch, the dried grasses, and the few cactus plants we’ve got near it.
Bea’s Song
River Song Triliogy II
~Cowboy Junkies~
John says I look at the moon and the stars
these days more often than I look into his eyes
and I can’t disagree so I don’t say nothing
I just stare on past his face at Venus rising,
like a shining speck of hope hanging over the horizon
With each passing year that I sit here
that horizon seems to inch just that much nearer
and all that appears on it seems as clear as spit
But if there’s on thing in my life
that these years have taught
it’s that you can always see it coming
but you can never stop it
Speed River at my feet running low and flat
I’m sitting here burning daylight,
thinking about the past
and that distance out there
where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
pulls me further down
John’s at my side,
but he’s not noticing that I’m drowning
‘Lonely Sinking Feeling’
~Cowboy Junkies~
She says, “I’m getting that lonely sinking feeling,
you know what I mean?”
With his hand on her back he’s thinking,
“Where does that leave me?”
Just when I think I’ve uncovered the secret
to peace and tranquility
that lonely sinking feeling creeps up on me
He says, “I’m seeing those doubt filled
questioning eyes
and I can’t believe it’s true”
With her head in her hands she sighs,
“It’s me, not you”
Just when I thought that I’d discovered the joy
of loving one so completely
that lonely sinking feeling creeps up on me
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‘Come Calling’
~Cowboy Junkies~
If I could fix me up a week of twilight hours
we’d sit on the point
and watch the sun continually flounder
Bathed in gold we’d plug into some kind of power
and connect with those days
back before all of this went sour
‘Cause I’m drinking for the pleasure of falling
and I’m falling for the pleasure of pretending
that you’re sitting by the window waiting
for me to come calling
Odd how the darkness always makes us whisper
and with the last of the sun
you can feel the approach of the winter
Now is the time of each day
that I Desperately miss her
I suppose I will learn how to live my life without her
‘Angel Mine’
~Cowboy Junkies~
I search all the time on the ground
for our shadows cast side by side
Just to remind me that I haven’t gone crazy
that you exist and are mine
And I know that your skin is as warm and as real
as that smile in your eyes
But I have to keep touching and smelling
and tasting for fear it’s all lies
I can’t promise that I’ll grow those wings
or keep this tarnished halo shined
but I’ll never betray your trust
angel mine
Last night I awoke from the deepest of sleeps
with your voice in my head
And I could tell by your breathing
that you were still sleeping
I repeated those words that you had said
I can’t promise that I’ll grow those wings
or keep this tarnished halo shined
but I’ll never betray your trust
angel mine
Won’t say I love you babe
Won’t say I need you babe
But I’m going to get you babe
and I will not do you wrong
Living’s mostly wasting time
and I waste my share of mine
but it never feels too good
so let’s not take too long
You’re as soft as glass
and I’m a gentle man
we got the sky to talk about
and the world to lie uponDays up and down they come
like rain on a conga drum
forget most, remember some
but don’t turn none away
Everything is not enough
nothing is too much to bear
where you been is good and gone
all you keep’s the getting there
To live is to fly low and high
so shake the dust off of your wings
and the sleep out of your eyes
It’s goodbye to all my friends
It’s time to go again
Think of all the poetry
and the pickin’ down the line
I’ll miss the system here
the bottom’s low and the treble’s clear
but it don’t pay to think too much
on the things you leave behind
I may be gone but I won’t be long
I’ll be bringing back the melody
and the rhythms that I find
We all got holes to fill
and them holes are all that’s real
some fall on you like a storm
sometimes you dig your own
But choice is yours to make
time is yours to take
some dive into the sea
some toil upon the stone
To live is to fly low and high
so shake the dust off of your wings
the sleep out of your eyes
29 And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed,
which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree,
in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.30 And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air,
and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life,
I have given every green herb for meat: and it was so.
31 And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good.
And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.
Psalm 104:8-24
8 They go up by the mountains;
they go down by the valleys unto the place
which thou hast founded for them.
9 Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over;
that they turn not again to cover the earth.
10 He sendeth the springs into the valleys,
which run among the hills.
11 They give drink to every beast of the field:
the wild asses quench their thirst.
12 By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation,
which sing among the branches.
13 He watereth the hills from his chambers:
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works.
14 He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man:
that he may bring forth food out of the earth;
15 And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine,
and bread which strengtheneth man’s heart.
16 The trees of the LORD are full of sap;
the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted;
17 Where the birds make their nests:
as for the stork, the fir trees are her house.
18 The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats;
and the rocks for the conies.
19 He appointed the moon for seasons:
the sun knoweth his going down.
20 Thou makest darkness, and it is night:
wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth.
21 The young lions roar after their prey,
and seek their meat from God.
22 The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together,
and lay them down in their dens.
23 Man goeth forth unto his work and
to his labour until the evening.
24 O LORD, how manifold are thy works!
In wisdom hast thou made them all:
the earth is full of thy riches
When I was a kid Uncle Remus would put me to bed
With a picture of Stonewall Jackson above my head
Then Daddy’d come in to kiss his little man
With gin on his breath and a Bible in his hand
He talked about honor and things I should know
Then he’d stagger a little as he went out the door
I can still hear the soft Southern wind in the live oak trees
And those Williams boys they still mean a lot to me
Hank and Tennessee
I guess we’re all gonna be what we’re gonna be
So what do you do with good ole boys like me
Nothing makes a sound in the night like the wind does
But you’re not afraid if you’re washed in the blood like I was
The smell of cape jasmine thru the window screen
Johnny R. and the Wolfman kept me company
By the light of the radio dial by my bed
With Thomas Wolfe whispering in my head
When I was in school I ran with kid down the street
And I watched him burn himself up on bourbon and speed
But I was smarter than most and I could choose
Learned to talk like the man on the six o’clock news
When I was eighteen, Lord, I hit the road
But it really doesn’t matter how far I go
I can still hear the soft Southern wind in the live oak trees
And those Williams boys they still mean a lot to me
Hank and Tennessee
I guess we’re all gonna be what we’re gonna be
So what do you do with good ole boys like me
Road from the neighbor's house
~Shel Silverstein~
My beard grows to my toes
I never wears no clothes
I wraps my hair
Around my bare
And down the road I goes
The road to our neighbor’s house. Sometimes this creek is a couple feet deep with water. People that don’t have tall enough tires can’t get out. I would not put my little Toyota into that creek if it were high.
More Spanish Moss.
Even though it is a bit of a problem for a tree, it is pretty, in a creepy way.
