I don’t always like the quiet. We now know What freedom is, because It has been stolen from us. Covid-19, a silent warrior came in Attacking us invisibly Through hugs and Intimacy Our most humane instincts. It reminds me that I’m alone With my cats and a storm coming Compounding the silence Broken by the occasional whirring A passing car or truck. TV not working – again More silence, just marathons Of movies dusted off from storage Seen many times before To mitigate the silence. I like living alone - with options To leave. To visit. To have Friends and family over For shared meals and catch-up. Options have disappeared. Masked people are everywhere Another intrusion to human Contact – the world as we know it Today. Negating the peace I found Previously in quiet seclusion –  The emptiness of streets Stressing the enforced solitude. The aura of estrangement. I don’t always like the quiet, But when birdsong intrudes In early mornings  And late afternoons Rippling the silent isolation It reminds me we are not truly Alone. Only our minds feel lonely, Maybe the heart. Somehow, Freedom returns with the songs.

Leaves

My love/hate relationship with leaves was in full mode today as I walked Lucy. That scratchy brittle sound so synonymous with the crispness of autumn so different from the silent falling of them that sometimes catches you unaware as you suddenly realize – the leaves have fallen! Crunching through masses of them still retaining their brilliant colors mingling with some that have dried to brown; the trees themselves still hold enough to cause you to stop in awe at the brilliant contrast to the October/November cerulean blue skies!

I love to keep the leaves through October for the sounds of them giving All Hallows Eve that eerie quality trick-or-treaters love as they slush through them going from door to door. And I love them at Thanksgiving – their sound like the song Over the River and Through the Woods to Grandmothers House we go as my Thanksgiving guests arrive and I watch my grandson shuffling through them to get his hugs!

As I walk down Old Kings Highway South toward Town I heard the church bells ringing – what a unique sound – giving me a sense of peace as I soughed along through the leaves, my dog wagging her tail and sniffing at something my nose misses. Past the now not so secret "secret garden" where Eric and Mar were busy harvesting the last of the Swiss chard – perfect to add some to the soup simmering on my stove – thank you!

By December the opposite end of the relationship kicks in and I want them gone – a crisp serene emptiness that will be beautiful when covered by the first snowfall. But for now – the sun is brightly shining and the leaves are glowing, the silence is so full of peace that I feel patient as I await the time of frost, freeze and snow!

Nanci Natale
White Pumpkins

Sound Harbor Cruise

Roton Point

First Prize in the Norwalk Tree Alliance Flowering Tree Contest - May 2016

Black Heron in Milford

Parenting vs Grandparenting

Parenting is probably the hardest job anyone will ever enter into. It is undeniably one of the most joyful jobs as well. Who will ever forget the first words, first steps, first day of kindergarten, soccer practice, graduation, prom, college, wedding and all the myriad routine days between?

And suddenly the house is empty – the silence louder than any noise children make – slamming doors, screeching, sibling rivalry, unbridled joy over an accomplishment? Treasured moments that come tumbling back from inside our memories, resurrected when we first encounter our grandchildren and see our children in their new and wondrous faces!

My grandson spent his first overnight with me and though I was grateful to have Monday as a “recovery day,” I would not have missed it! The playground at Weed Beach delighted him as he climbed, jumped, slid and explored, and dipping his feet, hot from the sand, into the cool salt water.

Later, picking fresh beans from the garden to have with our dinner, I watched his little hands lifting the leaves to look for the beans, finding them and proudly holding them out to me. On the other side he picked fresh raspberries for breakfast eating several as he picked. I remembered my sons doing this and questioning dinner “what is this leaf Mom” as I snuck in kale, herbs and other healthy greenery into whatever happened to be on that night’s menu. They were hungry and ate despite my freaking out – why aren’t you eating? Now, I’m easier, eat or don’t eat, whatever your tummy tells you! Usually they eat.

And later the little things they say at bedtime “my Dad and Mom are really going to miss me…” the only sign he gave of homesickness. I took it as a sign that he trusted me and was happy to be here and I look forward to so many memories with my grandson, the special relationship that I remembered my three sons had with their grandmother, sometimes making me jealous and feeling left out. Of course I told him “yes they are going to miss you and will be excited to come over tomorrow and get you!”

And I watched him sleeping as I had watched my own sons sleeping and you think – how much love can one heart have? The answer is enough, and more. This little being that came from my creation of his father amazes and awes me. The heart never stops growing, never stops loving, never runs out of room. So I hope parents and grandparents throughout town enjoy the adventure and remember “this too shall pass” when ice cream covers the face and hands!

The New Year

What a perfect early January day. It’s snowing. Softly – mixture of big sloppy wet flakes and tiny droplets more rain than snow – very gray – but somehow the starkness of the day makes it perfect.  And tomorrow is Sunday so no worries if we’re snowed in. The Christmas tree is down and everything packed away until the end of the year, leaving open space to spread out and breathe. A pile of books sits on the table waiting to take me to literary feasts and I’m eager to indulge! Wood is neatly stacked by the hearth for later when night falls and is gently lit by only the whiteness of the snow. Hot chocolate spiked with a little crème de cacao to take the chill off…. What a perfect January day.

Christmas 2013

“May you have the gladness of Christmas which is hope; the spirit of Christmas which is peace; the heart of Christmas which is love…” Ada Hendricks.  How peaceful and beautiful our town looks with the wreaths decked in bows adding the signature red/green colors and tiny white lights of Christmas and hung on lampposts that held flowering baskets all summer.

I recently read a letter by an atheist who said he thought the lights and crèches and menorahs and other religious symbols should be banned because they confused his children. Though I can appreciate his position, I would find it sad to want a world so sterile and devoid of any tradition and celebration.  Wouldn’t this be a great way to teach tolerance to your child, that the objects of tradition whether religious or purely for fun, are different from what you do or do not believe – not wrong but different? And different is okay, different should be welcome because it’s what makes our world interesting!

I am not offended when someone says Happy Hanukah to me, or Happy Kwanza or Happy Ramadan, because they would be sharing with me the joy they feel celebrating their family holiday! Joy in any form is a beautiful and rare gift to share and wouldn’t it be nice to have a universal month of joy, light, peace and celebration where all faiths and all traditions are respected?

John Lennon together with Yoko Ono co-wrote the song Imagine with lyrics encouraging us to imagine a world at peace without the impediments of religions and nationalities. With subtle suggestions that we should be living a life unattached to material possessions, one wonders if such a utopia could exist? I myself could not forfeit my attachment to certain possessions but I like the song and I like the ideal behind it.

However, as I make my way through town picking up gifts here and there for loved ones, I don’t feel materialistic, I feel happiness at sharing what I hope will be the perfect gift for the perfect person, and Darien’s shops have a plethora of ideas for anyone on every list. I don’t even have to leave town to shop and I don’t have to go online though I admit a secret obsession with surfing through those sites and seeing what deals they have…

So as I start to wrap, decorate the tree, try to put up outdoor lights, I’ll end my story today with the words of Clement Moore (…ere he drove out of sight) and share the joy of my religious belief “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night…”

September

From brightest blue spills glitter of afternoon, more champagne than ever summer…” so in the words of Robert Penn Warren who surely was talking about September, the onset of Autumn begins! Those random few yellow leaves we saw scattered here and there in August are now forming small piles, a precursor to the bigger piles yet to come. Don’t you love that scratchy, rustly sound as you shuffle through the dead leaves or maybe leap childlike into a great pile of them! But for now, the energy in the cooler air and the expectancy of brilliant foliage yet to come, keeps us outdoors savoring every moment. There is something about the September light – it’s so effervescent - crisp mornings leading into warmer afternoons, though the days are shorter – all the more precious!

With the shorter days, the nocturnal critters are out earlier and now you can see the bats flitting about as dusk falls but no worries! These much maligned little creatures eat a thousand mosquitoes (and other insect pests) in one hour, so we need to encourage them! Or the very least adopt a live-and-let-live pact with them! There are 45 species of bats in the United States and fewer than half of one-percent carries the rabies virus! From my kitchen window I can see that my neighbor has a “bat house” way up high in one of the trees at the edge of his property.  I have never actually seen any bats coming and going but I like the idea of this unexpected welcome mat over there and I’ll keep watching!

It’s still not too late for a picnic supper at the beach, reveling in Indian summer – hopefully ending every impromptu dinner with toasted marshmallows… and aren’t smores good any time of the year? So, let’s take the advice of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and … sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that bank upon the idle seashore of the mind…  Aren’t we lucky to live near enough the water to bask in its sounds and scents and visual repasts – so much to offer in all seasons!

And as what eventually happens, time doesn’t stand still and we get the pull to go indoors.  For those not lucky enough to be heading to New Jersey, it’s the Giants versus whoever as we step into NFL season! Who can resist! Get the chili, the chips, the beer ready and party-on whether it’s tail-gating or in the TV room – Sunday’s now revolve around the pigskin! On the town front, we’ll soon see, among other high school sports, the Blue Wave football team – practicing and playing and then the traditional Homecoming dance, bonfire and football game – check out the new electronic scoreboard! – Autumn has begun for all ages!

But if you’re still not quite ready to let summer go, what better way to say your goodbyes till next year than celebrating 64 year old Diane Nyad’s amazing, record breaking 103 mile Havana to Miami swim without a shark cage! I am so impressed!  She says this would be her final attempt but wanted to prove "it's never too late to chase your dream," and so she did. Age is just a number, as my son tells me, so dreams should never be abandoned! Nyad pursued her dream for 35 years and 5 attempts! So, dust off your dreams and aspirations and as George Eliot said - It is never too late to be what you might have been... Happy September, enjoy the gold, touchdown!

So I finally got one of my Reader to Reader pieces accepted by Victoria Magazine! The September/October 2013 issues - topic: volunteering. The issue arrived today - made my day! Hope everyone enjoys Victoria magazine - and my contribution.  Have a great evening and a terrific last month of summer! NRN

July dog days....

July 6^th – after a great 4^th of July with my son, daughter-in-law and grandson! Good friends stopped by too – and we ate too much but who cares? It’s a birthday party for our country – celebrate! I just cooked a burger on the grill – so hot out there – only 20 minutes to complete the cooking and I feel cooked! I gave the gardens a good drink – after picking yet another bowl full of green beans –the tomatoes are the size of golf balls, one cucumber is ready to pick and about 7 more almost! Lettuce is just about done – maybe one more salad, maybe two – turnips are almost ready! Leeks beautiful – Brussel sprouts – not sprouting the little cabbages yet but the mini pumpkin plant has at least 5 mini pumpkins on it – along with those awful thorns! Real, long thorns! Ouch!

It has to be close to 100 out – it’s over 80 inside so the A/C goes on – getting rid of the humidity so it’s comfortable indoors – it’s so gloriously sunny out! Perfect sunny July day except the temps need to drop about 15 degrees. My flowers are beautiful – lilies, dahlias, cleomes, Echinacea, rudbeckia, 4 oclocks, rose campion, veronica, and pots full of annuals – geraniums, petunias, begonias, - even my banana tree which I thought I had lost is doing great – higher than the split rail fence now – and the knock out roses I rescued from the dump are rewarding me with yet another bounty of red roses – they just keep on growing!! They look wonderful on one side of the fence with the hydrangeas on the other – perfectly picturesque for July!

Lucy needs exercise but it’s too hot for me and too hot for her with that fur coat so I let her romp outdoors and then hose her down until she’s nice and wet and cool – then after a good brushing, her hair curls and dries silky soft – and she groans with pleasure as she lies on the cool wood floor inside. Can’t wait to get my porch up so I can sit outside with her and she will have a cool spot to shelter in should a sudden storm come up.

Hope all are enjoying summer – don’t complain! The gardens are thriving from the heat, humidity and random thunderstorms – never have them been more beautiful – but then, I say that every year don’t I?

There is something magical about the first snowfall – not the dustings or heavy frosts – but the first real snowfall, six inches or more! It evokes memories of igloos built into the drifts the town plows pushed into the edge of the yards and driveways; huge snowmen as high as basketball nets; my sons shoveling the sidewalks and stairs, eventually distracting themselves with snowball fights, only coming inside to change into dry clothes and head back out!

Through my kitchen window I watch the woods fill up. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep…" and may be lucky enough to see a fox or deer foraging, watching birds line up on the split rail fence, their feathery weight not leaving any impressions, just their feet leaving stick figure tracks as they flit off escaping the wind and flakes. Cardinals were my father’s favorites even though he said they were mean birds, stealing other birds’ eggs or something. I can’t remember what their guilty pleasure is, but their color is vivid as they flash through the world gone white. I watch for them and they do not disappoint.

Now my sons are grown, I can curl up with a good book and tea, until I get the "doggy guilt trip look" from Lucy. She wants to play in the snow too! Like most dogs, she loves trying to catch snowballs and "plowing" through the accumulation with her big black nose sniffing out rodents – and there! Unexpectedly, we see a mole tunneling his way from the basement to the woods, stopping halfway to pop up like a jack-in-the-box to gauge his progress and get his bearings and then back under – alas not safely! A hawk has spotted the black shadow and swoops down grabbing his dinner, then disappearing back into the woods. How do they fly with such wing span and not crash into trees and branches? It’s a startling and amazing thing to watch!

Unfortunately, through it snowed throughout the day looking serene and beautiful and filled with promise, the accumulation was not the forecasted six inches! It was just enough to give everything a white coating – and marginal shoveling! As darkness falls, the world takes on soft illumination from the white ground cover, and after building a nice fire, how awesome to note that To Have and Have Not is on TV and watch Bogey & Bacall do their thing! Snow days – adult style, the world settling as we enjoy our unexpected day off. Now I hear the fir trees soughing/Great silence and singing! This is my home. Has anyone said it better than Henrik Ibsen in Peer Gynt?

End of Summer - The Secret Garden

Tuesday, I heard the rumbling of the iconic yellow bus grind to a halt at the end of my driveway. Some things never change. I thought noting that the bus stop was in the same place as in the 60’s and 70’s when I rode it, first to Mather Junior High (now the Town Hall) and later to Darien High. And here another school year was beginning.

It was quiet after the bus continued on its way out and I decided to take a walk with Lucy, my dog. We saw some men building a retaining wall at a home down the street, one of the workers tossing a Frisbee to a black lab that was more than happy to share his domain in exchange for human companionship!

Under the I-95 underpass there was an empty lot that had been a magnet for discarded cans, cigarette packs, coffee cups, plastic bags and other debris. Hidden under tall grass and wild weeds, you don’t usually see the garbage until frost hits and the grass dies back and then you see all the trash tossed by litterbugs as if the fact that it was an empty lot made it one giant garbage can or a mini dump.

However this particular parcel of land, surrounded by a deer-deterring fence, had been uniquely landscaped into a wonderful “secret” garden.Boulders surrounded by bright yellow marigolds and sunflowers flank the gates, American flags fly at the top of the gate posts and several iron rings complete the eclectic entrance to this hidden idyll.Inside are neat rows of vegetables and herbs, and down a large central path, a table and chairs with an umbrella and just beyond that a hammock! How perfect, lying on a hammock in the green shade on a blue and gold September afternoon.
This past Sunday I had the rare pleasure of sitting with Wayne and Eric, the creators of this oasis, talking and comparing notes on what did well and what didn’t – thoughts only lovers of the land can ramble on about.

Having grown up with gardens, I can’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if all undeveloped parcels of land could be cultivated like this. What an unexpected —but perfect — idea.
Now Labor Day has come and gone, children are in school, streets are quieter, the last of the gardens are a visual feast for us because soon — when the plants die back, the days shorten and get colder, it will mean autumn has arrived.

But then, that also asks the question — are you ready for some football?

The End of Unemployment Compensation

As I end my time on unemployment and look forward to a new start in a new job, I feel no regret for the past 18 months that I spent growing in new directions, learning new skills, meeting many new and interesting people, and the words of Cross Creek come to mind as I embark on my new journey: "It is more important to live the life one wishes to live, and to go down with it if necessary, quite contentedly, than to live more profitably but less happy." We only go round once in this world, making the most of it, the most of our talents, opening our eyes to the beauty around us in spite of all the ugliness that also inhabits this world - enjoy the journey and never stop learning, never stop seeing with new eyes!

A perfect gardening day and this plump friendly robin kept hanging around the yard with my dog Lucy and me. I couldn’t help hoping he was one of the robins born last spring that I watched over through storms and rain, hoping they would survive the rustic nest in my rose arbor! I remember that last day when the baby robin left. He was hesitant, unsure if he would survive without the mother who had been providing for him all through the spring. So, he sat on the split rail fence at the edge of the patio where it joined the woods. Sat there most of the afternoon and then as evening began to fall, his courage grew, and he listened to the birdsong echoing among the trees, all the feathered ones going in for the night, and off he flew. I watched him till he disappeared, deep into the woods, uncertain if I would ever see him again. And now, this plumb fellow is back again, sometimes sitting on the sidewalk dipping into puddles, sometimes on the fence where I watched him pondering his future, sometimes in the grass pulling up a fat worm. I wondered if he had a mate and where she was, if perhaps she had built a nest somewhere nearby and was even now sitting on the pretty blue eggs while this one dug for worms to feed her, and pluck twigs and stray wisps of dog hair to warm their nest. I marvel at their industry, always about something, hunting for food, foraging for nest material, happily splashing in the bird bath, occasionally checking the bird feeder, which I only fill during nasty winter storms when they need the extra nourishment. And always, at dusk, a few final songs, maybe only one long note, and then silence as they disappear into the woods until the sun returns. - July 2012

4th of July

It’s the 4^th of July and maybe we should remember that this is not a partisan holiday. It is a day of celebration for all the benefits we reap as Americans, one people.  Theodore Roosevelt said “To waste, to destroy, our natural resources will result in undermining in the days of our children the very prosperity which we ought by right to hand down to them amplified.” Are we bequeathing a better America to our children? We utilize our Constitutional right to elect officials that we hope are preserving what we have and bettering the world that we inherited.  John Quincy Adams said “Think of your forefathers and of your posterity.” Great men, great words. Do we think of them as Democrats or Republicans or do we think of them as Americans doing for our country what needed to be done. Are we all doing what needs to be done to continue that legacy? While we are enjoying our barbecues and parties, our celebratory fireworks (thank you for reinstating this wonderful tradition) let’s remember that we are here in this great country because of our ancestors – and remember the words of Stephen Vincent Benet “There were human beings aboard the Mayflower, not just ancestors.” Remember that we are all human beings who will someday be ancestors, we are all blessed with the freedom to pursue whatever endeavors we want and utilize the talents we were given to attain those goals without repression, aggression, or restriction. God bless America!

Winter Gardens

The winter gardens are beautiful in their austerity, the raised beds, surrounded by gravel paths are barren but tidy, against the flagstone patio where the wrought iron table and chairs sit patiently waiting for the return of warm weather visitors! The hydrangeas are brittle stalks, lovely in their indifference to the cold, even with the lack of blossoms, only a few dried brown heads remaining, evidence of the profusion of blue last summer. Dormant lavender and sage still stand near the dried lemongrass and hollyhocks waiting for the warmth to return, the land to thaw.  The ground has crystals in it, where frost has attacked and harbored. It isn’t soft, warm and crumbly like spring soil full of moisture and the promise of life. It’s hard, cold, sealed within itself, keeping secrets unseen by our eyes but which we know, by faith, they will  give back to us come spring. Above, the night sky is ringed with a cold gossamer haze cocooning the white sliver of the new moon, beaming gently down on all the gray, white cold of earth in its frozen grasp. An occasional raccoon or opossum waddles through looking for remnants in the vegetable garden, empty of all but a few Brussels sprouts and one head of green cabbage. The air is still, birdsong disappearing into the dark, only the far away echo of cars on Route 136 or Interstate 95 interrupt the soothing peace of night, falling earlier and staying longer in the morning. There is something wondrous about looking at the gardens empty of life, sitting expectantly, waiting patiently, nurturing underground the roots and bulbs of what will be my entertainment after the long winter solstice.

My mother at Lenox Hill Hospital with her 3rd husband Ralph Baruch -