Transplanting a Birthday

As many of you know, I was born in the frozen part of the year, just a few breaths after all the holidays, at the time when the light is dimmest. I also live in a region prone to ice and snow.

I have found–increasingly so–that by the time my birthday rolls around I feel too tired to enjoy it. And I want to enjoy each launch into a new year fully!  Even as a child, I longed for a summer birthday–and have continued to do so for almost six decades now. 2020 is the year I turn 60 years old. I am pretty excited about this! And, as my gift to myself, I am transplanting my birthday  from the brrrrrrrs of January to the aahhs of June warmth. This year, and every year after, I am celebrating the years behind and the adventures ahead on Midsummer’s Day, June 21. (My official-purposes date will remain the same but for celebratory purposes–woo-hoo!–there will be the maximum of light, blooms in the garden, and flowing water in the river.)

Here’s to entering my sage years with a new point of view!

(Many thanks to Tim for taking the photographs and overseeing the planting of this prairie sage, to Julia Uleberg for the gift of sage from her garden at Dacie’s, to Marea for the “Birthday Girl” magnet I enjoy 365 days a year, and to all of you for your good company on this journey through life!)

LESLIE

The Orchards Poetry Journal Publishes My Poems “Blois” and “All Hallows”

Some things just get better and better. The Orchards Poetry Journal launched in August 2016 as a twice-a-year online publication. Now, with its eighth issue, not only are the poems available online, but also in a beautiful print format.

And it is chock full of poems I am glad to read and read again. You’ll have your own favorites, of course, but I thought I would mention just a handful of my own.

Molly Peacock, someone whose work I have enjoyed in a number of journals, is the feature poet of this issue of The Orchards. Of the selection here, I am especially taken with her poem “The Shoulders of Women.”

Among the many skillful sonnets in this issue, two–“Abandoned Church in France” by David W. Landrum and “Twilight” by Wendy Sloan–caught my full attention. I know I will return to read them again. Likewise, the very moving (and technically accomplished) villanelle by Allison Joseph, “After Receiving an Unsolicited Mailer from a Monument Company”, used form to soar into a new emotional place.

And I especially enjoyed seeing in print Sally Nacker’s poem for Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Steepletop Museum“, one I read in draft form a while back. Seeing it reminds me of conversation I had with Sally about her visit to St. Vincent Millay’s home near Austerlitz, New York. I, too, have loved St. Vincent Millay’s work since high school. When I worked at Carleton, I taped a photograph of her framed by magnolia branches over my desk in the Development Office, and so I was especially touched that Sally sent me postcards of the famous Remington typewriter and writing shack for my office here at home. Sally’s poem encapsulates the way a life and a place can become intertwined in a way that inspires legend. I am grateful for it because I recently read that the museum is now closed to the public, so it is unlikely I will ever be able to see it for myself.

In closing, I thought that I would offer a little background on the two poems of my own that appear in this issue.

“Blois”

This poem draws on memories of my first visit to the Loire Valley in March 2009, and specifically to a visit to Chateau de Blois.

View of the Loire River taken from the wall of Chateau de Blois.

The chateau has a long history and its history intersected with such fabled people as Jeanne d’Arc (1412 to 1431) and François I (who reigned from 1515 to 1547 and was a patron of Leonardo da Vinci). The chateau occupies the high ground but is linked to the town (and thence to several marvelous patisseries) by a wide and graceful stone staircase, essentially a public street, that envelopes a circular flower bed. It was François I who chose the salamander as his personal emblem.

(As for Images of the famous staircase and a little more on the spectacular chateau, here is a summary. Can’t believe that I was there but neglected to take a photograph of that magnificent architectural detail!)

“All Hallows”

I have been fascinated by owls for decades, at least since Tim and I bought this little bronze replica of an Etruscan statuette on the Ponte Vecchio in Florence back in 1997. Last year, we visited a wonderful new establishment in the small town of Houston, Minnesota, the International Owl Center. So impressed were we with its expansive mission and programming–and by the work of their in-house teaching owls, Ruby (a Great Horned Owl) and Uhu (a Eurasian Eagle Owl), that we returned later in the fall for a field trip Owl Prowl. This year, Tim and I both heard and spotted for the first time an owl in the wild–a Great Horned Owl in the Carleton Arboretum. I have yet to get a clear photograph of an owl–maybe one day. I did, however, find the inspiration for this poem–a meditation on the otherworldly magic of owls–after those visits to Houston, along with real world information on the need to protect owl habitat across the globe.

I hope you, too, will enjoy this watershed issue of The Orchards Poetry Journal!

You can read the issue online HERE. If you would like to order a copy of this first print edition, (as you know I did!) you can do that at the Kelsay Books website HERE.