Dance of the May Queen

Elaine Bayley Illustrations

This is the last day of April. Tomorrow we celebrate Beltane and May Day, and while we can weave flowers in our hair and dance around the maypole, it’s also also called Workers’ Day or International Workers’ Day, to commemorate the struggles and gains made by workers and the labor movement. 

May Day is a far cry away from the international call of distress, mayday. I always wondered where that term emanated from. For some reason, SOS didn’t work, so it seems as if mayday was attributed to Frederick Stanley Mockford, a senior radio officer in the RAF. In 1927, the United States formally adopted it as an official radiotelegraph distress signal, explaining that mayday corresponds “to the French pronunciation of the expression m’aider.” It’s simple meaning in English is “help me.”

Beltane is a Celtic annual festival to signify the return of the light.

Whether you light bonfires, decorate your homes with May flowers, or make May bushes, have a Happy Beltane and May Day!

In May
Yes, I will spend the livelong day
With Nature in this month of May;
And sit beneath the trees, and share
My bread with birds whose homes are there;
While cows lie down to eat, and sheep
Stand to their necks in grass so deep;
While birds do sing with all their might,
As though they felt the earth in flight.
This is the hour I dreamed of, when
I sat surrounded by poor men;
And thought of how the Arab sat
Alone at evening, gazing at
The stars that bubbled in clear skies;

And of young dreamers, when their eyes
Enjoyed methought a precious boon
In the adventures of the Moon
Whose light, behind the Clouds’ dark bars,
Searched for her stolen flocks of stars.
When I, hemmed in by wrecks of men,
Thought of some lonely cottage then
Full of sweet books; and miles of sea,
With passing ships, in front of me;
And having, on the other hand,
A flowery, green, bird-singing land.
William Henry Davies 1871–1940

PoeTree

Poetry. A gentle play on words makes me laugh.

April is almost over and I nearly forgot it was National Poetry Month!

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
Joyce Kilmer

I looked up at this gnarled but lovely twisty eucalyptus tree trunk and ran my fingers down her bark/skin. It was roughly textured but felt solid and safe. Notice all the nooks and crannies to shelter birds and other living creatures.

I am also protected.

For me, this embodies poe-tree.

Happy Earth Day 2023

I attended the very first Earth Day celebration in 1970 at Balboa Park in San Diego with a crowd of about 70,000 people. It was Wednesday, the weather was beautiful, about 68 degrees, and I must have skipped school that Wednesday.

I can’t remember who I went with or how I got there but I do recall walking from booth to booth looking for free stuff and having an unpleasant encounter with a San Diego cop, probably about being truant.

There is a vague recollection that I swore at him and he got all puffed up and intimidating, threatening to call my dad until I told him to go ahead, my dad was a lawyer…and then he walked away. Miss you, Daddy, and thank you!

Gaia, known as the mother goddess, was the personification of Earth. She’s described as a caring and nurturing mother figure to all of her children, plants, and other living creatures on this planet.

We’re all children of Gaia, Earth Mother, no matter where we live.

Here’s a photo of boats from my little slice of earth at Agua Hedionda Lagoon, along with a lone paddleboarder.

I walked along a little trail high above the water and this view seemed like it could be anywhere in the world, but it’s right here in SoCal.

Take care of Mother Earth and she’ll take care of you!

How I Go To The Woods

This intense cosmic energy is not only messing with my sleep, but I was having strange battery issues with my laptop computer so I went back to the Apple store where I had once met Al Gore (yes, VICE PRESIDENT Al Gore) and asked the Genius Bar tech to perform a diagnostic check. The tech didn’t do much but it’s all better, so who really knew what caused the problem, whether it was a hardware glitch or a solar flare, or other planetary influences. The good thing is that it’s back to working perfectly.

There were lots of traffic accidents and horrible drivers everywhere yesterday. The freeway was completely shut down for hours because of an insane situation with a woman who allegedly vandalized a vehicle and carjacked a Lyft. She led the police on a short chase but finally, peacefully, surrendered to police after a prolonged standoff on Interstate 5. It looked like WW3 with all of the military-like Special Weapons and Tactics Team surrounding the vehicle. The woman was taken into custody on suspicion of felony vandalism, brandishing a weapon in a threatening manner, assault with a deadly weapon, carjacking, resisting arrest, and felony evasion of police.

That’s way too much negative energy for ME to deal with and I’m so glad I wasn’t stuck for hours on the freeway. I felt lucky that I had made a spontaneous last minute decision to take an alternate route home. I heard all the sirens though, but had assumed it was simply another accident.

Time to take a deep breath, stay home, work in the garden, listen to the birds, and read a poem or two while cultivating some zen as well as my veggies.

How I Go To The Woods by Mary Oliver

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.

Rare Hybrid Solar Eclipse | Journey Between Two Worlds

Get ready for sky drama!

Photo by Drew Rae on Pexels.com

The upcoming solar eclipse on April 19-20 holds a significant amount of energy that can bring about profound changes in our lives.

The Ningaloo Eclipse April 20 is an extraordinary and rare hybrid solar eclipse that takes its name from an Aboriginal word. The path of totality passes over North West Cape, a remote peninsula of Western Australia.

On April 20, the shadow of the moon will graze the tip of the state in a twenty-five mile wide track as it travels over one of the most beautiful parts of the world – the Ningaloo region near Exmouth.

Exmouth is the only town within the line of totality making it one of the only places on earth to experience a total solar eclipse, one of nature’s most phenomenal occurrences.

The Aries new moon solar eclipse is a hybrid between an annular eclipse, where you can see a ring of fire around the sun, and a total eclipse, where the sun is completely blocked.

Hybrid eclipses are incredibly rare and can suggest a transition or perhaps a shift between two worlds.

Just as the eclipse moves from total to annular, perhaps something in our lives is preparing to shift too.

Claim the messages sent during this timeframe, as they are usually crucial to our spiritual and physical evolution.

It’s a good time to meditate on the Taoist concept of the flow state (Wu Wei), and examine what is in or out of alignment in our journey.

In addition to this blast of cosmic energy, Mercury retrograde occurs between April 21 and May 14 in my sign of Taurus.

“That which offers no resistance overcomes the hardest substances.
That which offers no resistance can enter where there is no space.
Few in the world can comprehend the teachings without words, or understand the value of non-action.”
Lao Tzu, Tao Te Chin

Nothing But Nasturtiums

When I was in college, we lived across the street from a wild place, an abandoned and untended avocado grove blanketed with nasturtiums. Their long tendrils would wind up and around the gnarled trunks.

After school, my friends and I would sit under the trees and pick tiny avocados from the low hanging branches and gorge on them until we were full, and then we’d lie back in the pillowy nasturtium leaves and pretend we were forest fairies.

We’d sometimes weave orange and yellow tiaras through our hair, and always pick a bouquet to bring home.

I love their tangy but sweet fragrance and often add the flowers to salads, but only the ones from my garden that I’m sure are pesticide-free.

All the rain birthed my own enchanted nasturtium forest this year.

Fellini-esque Homeless Encounter

Yesterday I drove to an appointment for a physical therapy session to work on my knee, the one with the torn meniscus. Since I hate parking garages with low, oppressive ceilings, I chose to park a block or so away.

The sky was blue, the sun was out, and I briskly walked to my destination. Restaurants were full of happy people enjoying balmy weather on the last day of spring break.

I crossed the street and noticed a gnome-like, wizened, obviously homeless guy on a bench.

Exactly as if he had been watching and waiting for me, he stood up and blocked my path when I approached. He held out a pen and asked me if he could write his name on my body.

(Yes, for a nanosecond, I imagined he was holding a knife. Adrenalin production ramped up in my body, but it was just a pen.)

I shook my head and firmly replied, “No, you CANNOT!”

He said, “Why not? Because then you’d belong to me.”

This wasn’t a pleasant encounter — his demeanor was filled with contempt. With those few words, the tone he conveyed was sarcastic, sardonic, mocking, even derisive.

I continued to walk, shook my head at the oddness of his words. Many times, I’ve been asked for money by street people, but this was out of the ordinary for sure.

Instead of “homeless”, advocates suggest the use of language like unhoused or unsheltered to describe people “experiencing homelessness” to imply a worldview that sees homelessness as a structural and societal failing, not a personal problem.

Whatever language one uses, we have a large population here, and I think our city has a fairly responsive and compassionate approach to this crisis. Not great, but better than their past one-dimensional militant approach.

About an hour later, I retraced my steps as I made my way back to my car. The little man was still there, perched on the same bench. This time I noticed that his feet didn’t touch the ground, which means he was even shorter than my five feet. I didn’t feel like I needed to take any effort to avoid him.

This bench was positioned in the middle of the sidewalk and near the intersection at the stoplight where I needed to cross the street.

As I walked by, he cackled and stuck his foot out as if to trip me. I circumvented this potential ill-mannered assault as he called out to me with an abundance of animosity, “Hey curly!”.

Of course I didn’t respond and made it safely back to my car, but I was curious about these two slightly peculiar encounters in an otherwise completely normal day.

As I pondered the deeper meaning of what occurred, it reminded me of a Fellini film; the blending of fantasy and baroque images with raw earthiness — opening a portal to what lives beneath the surface of seeming normalcy.

What did the angry man represent? Why me? Why did he say I would be his if he wrote his name on me? There was an essence of something shadowy and devious and outlier about him; a glimpse into a version of a world I don’t inhabit.

How utterly strange and slightly unsettling, like I was actually IN an art film or an alternate reality or another dimension.

The only way I can describe it is how Caryn James in an old newspaper article described a Fellini film…”that moment when you walk headlong into a scene so strange you think you’re hallucinating; then it turns out to be real.

What I know for sure is that it was borderline creepy and I was SO glad to go home. To be home. There’s no place like home.

Empty Mind – Peaceful Heart

There’s a lot of cosmic energy swirling around right now. Don’t forget to breathe!

“As above, so below, as within, so without, as the universe, so the soul…” Hermes Trismegistus

From Lao Tzu:

Empty your mind of all thoughts.
Let your heart be at peace.
Watch the turmoil of beings,
but contemplate their return.

Each separate being in the universe
returns to the common source.
Returning to the source is serenity.

If you don’t realize the source,
you stumble in confusion and sorrow.
When you realize where you come from,
you naturally become tolerant,
disinterested, amused,
kindhearted as a grandmother,
dignified as a king.
Immersed in the wonder of the Tao,
you can deal with whatever life brings you,
and when death comes, you are ready.


Fun at the Flower Fields 🌺 #LiveColorfullyFlowerFields

I remember when rows upon rows of a colorful flowering ranunculus tapestry was only a quirky, delightful curiosity we’d point at as we drove north along the freeway. Back then it was an annual locals-only kind of attraction and now The Flower Fields enchants visitors from all over the world.

I can’t believe that it took me this long to visit The Flower Fields in all its glory, but it’s a definite recommended destination. It was a truly enjoyable day and best of all, it’s simply impossible to take a bad photo there!

The Flower Fields are located off the freeway at Palomar Airport Road in Carlsbad. In addition to forty acres of beautiful ranunculus in peak bloom, there are tractor rides, wine tastings, food, yoga classes, a Mother’s Day picnic, and day-long educational and fun activities for children of all ages.

And a butterfly garden!

HISTORY:
The Flower Fields today are a direct result of nearly eighty-five years of floral cultivation that began with Luther Gage, an early settler and horticulturist who settled here in the early 1920s. Mr. Gage brought ranunculus seeds to the area and began growing them in his fields next to Frank Frazee’s small vegetable farm in South Oceanside. In 1933 Frank Frazee also started growing ranunculus and introduced his son Edwin to the art of seeding, cultivating, and irrigating this beautiful flower. 

This is what it used to look like — the fields of flowers grew close to the freeway:

1970s. Photo credit: Bob Gardner

INFO:
Open daily from 9:00am-6:00pm until Mother’s Day (Sunday,  May 14th, 2023)
Ongoing Specials (Starting March 6th)
Mondays – With the purchase of one adult or one senior/military, you receive one child’s ticket free (ages 3-10)|
Tuesdays & Wednesdays – Between 1:00pm-4:00pm, receive $2 off adults, seniors/military and children’s tickets.
Buy tickets online at theflowerfields.com

(Excluding the vintage photo, all photo credit to Enchanted Seashells.com)
@the_flower_fields 

The Girl and the Whale 🐋

Scrolling through the vast wasteland of the internet, I discovered this picture and it immediately brought tears to my eyes.

I could actually feel myself as the girl caressing this magnificent humpback whale.

The essential and enduring connection and communion with other creatures is a combination of compassion and empathy and kindness.

I did a little research and learned about the work of Rachel Byler, artist and creator of The Colorful Cat Studio.

🐋It’s on my May Birthday Wish List as I could gaze at this painting forever and ever. It brings a simple yet complex joy.🐋

One of my favorite poets, Pulitzer Prize winner Mary Oliver wrote about humpback whales:

HUMPBACKS

There is, all around us,
this country
of original fire

You know what I mean.

The sky, after all, stops at nothing, so something has to be holding
our bodies
in its rich and timeless stables or else
we would fly away.

Off Stellwagon
off the Cape, the humpbacks rise. Carrying their tonnage of barnacles and joy
they leap through the water, they nuzzle back under it
like children
at play.

They sing, too.
And not for any reason
you can’t imagine.

Three of them
rise to the surface near the bow of the boat,
then dive
deeply, their huge scarred flukes
tipped to the air.

We wait, not knowing
just where it will happen; suddenly
they smash through the surface, someone begins
shouting for joy and you realize
it is yourself as they surge
upward and you see for the first time
how huge they are, as they breach,
and dive, and breach again
through the shining blue flowers
of the split water and you see them
for some unbelievable
part of a moment against the sky-
like nothing you’ve ever imagined-
like the myth of the fifth morning galloping
our of darkness, pouring
heavenward, spinning; then

they crash back under those black silks
and we all fall back
together into that wet fire, you
know what I mean

I know a captain who has seen them
playing with seaweed, tossing
the slippery lengths of it into the air.

I know a whale that will come to the boat whenever
she can, and nudge it gently along the bow
with her long flipper.

I know several lives worth living.

listen, whatever it is you try
to do with your life, nothing will ever dazzle you
like the dreams of your body,

its spirit
longing to fly while the dead-weight bones

toss their dark mane and hurry
back into the fields of glittering fire

where everything,
even the great whale,
throbs with song.

🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋🐋