Monthly Archives: February 2017

On the tip of a razor.

quotes, virtues, ,

“Blessed is the man who acknowledges his weakness. This knowledge is the foundation, root and beginning of all virtue. For when someone knows himself and truly feels his total lack of power, then his soul recoils from the sloth that darkens the conscience…When someone realizes that he needs God’s help, he pours forth a multitude of prayer.

“Until the heart of a man is humbled, he will not cease flitting about, for humility gathers the heart. Once man is humbled, he is immediately engulfed by mercy and his heart senses the divine aid. All of these virtues are born in man through knowledge of his weakness. But the righteous one who does not know his weaknesses hold his deeds on the tip of a razor and is not far from a fall, nor from the destroying lion -— the demon of pride.”

—St. Isaac the Syrian

It would be conferred on them by a gift.

quotes,

john-cassian“So much did the apostles realize that everything which pertains to salvation was bestowed on them by the Lord that they asked for faith itself to be given them by the Lord when they said: ‘Increase our faith,’ for they did not presume that its fullness would come from free will but believed that it would be conferred on them by a gift of God.

“The Author of human salvation teaches us how even our faith is unstable and weak and by no means sufficient unto itself, unless it has been strengthened by the Lord’s help, when He says to Peter: ‘Simon, Simon, behold Satan has sought to sift you like wheat, but I have asked My Father that your faith might not fail.'”

–St. John Cassian

Finches say No to microgreens.

my garden, nature, ,
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euphorbia

I wondered wp1060683crphy I hadn’t seen any goldfinches on the feeder lately. It hasn’t been pouring rain all the time, and a couple of weeks ago they liked feeding even during showers. The weather has been mostly a big cloud, and then added to that, I have personally been Under the Weather. When I came out from under, and the sun also came out, I explored my estate this morning and discovered that the nyger seed has become sprout soup.

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tarragon

 

 

The Christmas cactus missed Christmas, being shut up in the dark greenhouse. Now it is blooming, and frosty weather isn’t imminent, so I took it out where I can see it from my kitchen window. The tarragon is growing well in that greenhouse, though.

 

 

 

 

 

How many pictures of poppies can I post here before my readers start to rebel? How would you show your ennui? Probably you all are too kind to say anything. It’s really not that easy to get a good picture of an Iceland poppy; there is just a moment when the delicate petals are fresh and new, and the sun is not too bright. Yellow flowers are almost always too bright even without the sun. They blooms can’t be too wet, or they hang their heads soggily. This one was the morning’s gift.

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A whiteout of wings.

poetry, writing

To all the people who write when they aren’t writing, especially Jo, I dedicate this:

WRITING on NOT WRITING

I can feel my ship about to come in.
A white ship in a snowstorm
moving in.

The ship is made of gulls
huddled together
in the shape of a ship.

When it arrives, they will fly out into the storm,
leaving a space inside it
clear as reason.

I can tell there’s going to be a blizzard
of being somewhere else
any minute

because of time’s noise eating itself up
that is the noise of listening
that looks like a seething, florid whiteout of wings.

-Jack Myers