Diana
was my mother. I was
the only child. My mother passed away in January of 2005. It was her
decision to do so. She had my two youngest sons at her side, along with
primary care at her home by Hospice of Spokane. She was 93 years old.
She was the very first person to teach me about the natural world and
all of it's inhabitants. She taught me in the very late 1940's and
early 50's about birds, flowers, trees and all of the glorious things
of earth. She spoke frequently, the names of things. She would recite
the names in Latin and English, both from memory and frequently added a
poem from some classic to accompany her
lessons...although
I could hardly call them lessons...they were "just me growing up in a
very intellectual home", she would tell me later. Although
not
rich in any days standards, my mother came from a long list of Colonial
Ancestors and quality Quaker dedication. And until the very day she
died, she could still recite entire poems and phrase in Latin and other
languages...she amazed her doctors at her knowledge of the nature
kingdom and real world as all of applied to her...and then on to them.
For when she passed on this information, she left an imprint in each
and every one she met along life path....especially me. If it were not
for mother, I would not be here today on Trek Nature.
Mother like the simple things...and yes at times
she
adored the beautiful color...but then she always returned to her
standard phrase...when asked questions she would tell me "Look it up!.
We have a dictionary right here". She told me this well into my late
50's...She always was the teacher and the consumate one she was...The
world lost a precious soul when she passed away quietly at home with my
sons, her grandsons at her side...
A
rose by any other name is still a rose? This is a cute saying that has
been around for a very long time, however it cannot be applied to all
things and all times and places. So I thought about it for a
bit
and
remembered back to my mother and grandmothers old books on nature and
the pictures in them. Photographic pictures were of poor quality.
Drawings
were used most times for best identification. Now this thought returned
to to what I thought
might be an unusable picture, for I had originally seen it in another
way; a way which others might not understand, yet if
explained .... Even today, some of the better identification
books
are not
images but drawings.
A
genuine and knowledgeable person who understands birds and all of the
aviary world would be sure to know that these are House Sparrows. And
due to an unscheduled snowstorm, my archives could only cough this one
up...or was it just me? I forget...House sparrows...in a monochrome
setting...for my mother and her endless book of nature. I
have
both, hte book still here by my side and mothers
ashes......Gone
yet I keep what is
left close by...if not in memory then in fact. I am one who was
always hard to let go....
...I could count twenty
such ...
Who strive ...
To paint a little thing like that you smeared
Carelessly passing with your robes afloat--
Yet do much less ... --so much less!
Well, less is more, Lucrezia: I am judged.
There burns a truer light of God in them,
In their vexed beating stuffed and stopped-up brain,
Heart, or whate'er else, than goes on to prompt
This low-pulsed forthright craftsman's hand of mine.
Their works drop groundward, but themselves, I know,
Reach many a time a heaven that's shut to me,
Enter and take their place there sure enough,
Though they come back and cannot tell the world.
...
Somebody
remarks
Morello's outline there is wrongly traced,
His hue mistaken; what of that? or else,
Rightly traced and well ordered; what of that?
Speak as they please, what does the mountain care?
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for? ...