Little Buddy

Posted on October 5, 2026 by Pat

Bird on Shoulder - Photo © by Jim Ruppel — Bird on Shoulder – Photo © by Jim Ruppel

This little buddy landed on my shoulder one morning, and I was surprised he stayed long enough to snap a picture. He seemed content and not afraid as I kept real still. It felt good and I liked having him there and the connection no matter how fleeting. Makes me wish I could hold onto the moment longer.

Those times are precious to me as they are happening now and as I look back on them. But isn’t that how life is – unpredictable? We never know how each day will unfold. It’s a gift – all of it, the good and the bad, and as I get older, I’m even more conscious of that. It’s a choice really, how we see it and respond. And as I look at this picture, I’m reminded how much there is to still see and enjoy right there in front of my eyes.

I’m glad there are stages in life and it’s funny, as I look at old pictures over time. You would think we were different people as little girls and boys, compared to our teens and 20’s, mid-life, and (if fortunate) the golden years. Birds don’t change as dramatically as that, nor other wildlife, that I know of. If they get older, there’s a change but not where they look so different that you wouldn’t recognize them. Maybe it’s because they’re not as protected when enduring the elements, and most don’t live as long.

I remember I could feel this little guy’s feet as he moved and shifted. He was close enough to where I could see his face as he twitched his head back and forth. Maybe, he was somewhat puzzled by this big object near him. Then, he finally flew off. So tiny, delicate and light as a feather. I marvel how they take off in flight without hardly any effort. Wouldn’t it be fun to launch and fly like that?

Hubby and I watch all types of fowl, insects and critters in our backyard, and it gives me appreciation of life and its different forms. We don’t see all the makings of it on the ground and in the sky – the intricacies and interactions. Only a small portion of it as they enter our world. What does their home look like perched up in a tree or under a bush? What do we look like to them? Do they feel things like we do or is it us trying to apply human emotions? Some things must be similar as they care for their young and compete for territory like we do. But on a different vibration? I have no idea but it’s beautiful with what I do see.

I look forward to more moments like that. You never know what each day will reveal. Maybe another little buddy will come to visit again. I hope so.

Pat from the ‘ol kitchen table

This Old Tree

Posted on June 11, 2026 by Pat

Old Dead Tree - © Jim Ruppel — **Old Dead Tree –** © Jim Ruppel

This old dead tree brings up a lot of warm feelings for me remembering back when it was alive and thriving in my over 40 years having lived here. I remember when it stood tall and noble with outstretched branches inviting the birds and squirrels to come while proudly shading the ground below. It was strong bracing the wind and storms for so many years giving life to all around it until it had no more to give.

I don’t know how old it was, possibly 150 years, as old as our state of Colorado this year. Think of what it witnessed in its lifetime – changes in the migration of wildlife, growth of the forest and fires in the balance of nature. Starting out as a baby itself, there was a lot to survive, and yet it did, no doubt, for many years. And there it stood, planted in one spot, doing what it was created to do – proudly and boldly be a tree.

I remember when our girls were young and we first had horses. There that old tree stood watching as we struggled to learn and communicate with these large animals, green in our efforts, and the many memories we made doing that. I could almost feel an approving energy and a smile happy to be a part of community and our home.

It watched over the years as our girls grew and all the coming and going of teenage life; and, then the grandkids, when they came with their rough play, dueling lightsabers, chasing each other around the yard playing hide-and-go-seek with the horses and dogs. Those were happy memories for us, and that old tree found its happy place too over the years, as we enjoyed it being there and the loving energy it gave off.

It was hard to see life fade in that old tree and how it still stood tall even after life ran its course and it was gone. There’s an empty space there, now, where it once stood but as you walk close you can still feel an energy of love and joy. If trees could communicate like us, I think that old tree would laugh and laugh at all the play, challenges, life and love that bounced around all over this backyard.

I love the thought of its life that once was and its energy that still remains and, with that, as long as we have our memories nothing is ever really gone – only the form has changed.

Pat from the ‘ol kitchen table

___________________________

This is the first of a new project my husband, Jim Ruppel, and I are collaborating on where, with his photography, he will pick a photo and send it to me to put a story to it. So, here goes. Hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts and suggestions, if you like. Thank you.

Magic

Posted on July 26, 2017 by Pat

Feather Photo by Jim Ruppel 2017

It’s incredible to see this beautiful delicate feather just lying on the ground, especially when I learn it’s only slightly larger than my pinky nail. Hubby noticed it, though, when walking in our backyard, and captured it in this photo. It’s magic — just the fact, something so tiny and delicate could have been overlooked. But, what isn’t in life?

Who’s to say how long it has been there, unnoticed, or how long it will remain. We may have walked past it a hundred times, could have crushed it under our shoes or the wind may blow it away.

That’s the thing. I wonder what else I haven’t noticed. What have I missed mainly because I haven’t taken the time to look and listen?

~~~~~

Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject Of Faith
by Mary Oliver

Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun’s brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can’t hear

anything, I can’t see anything —
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green
stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,

the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker —
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.

And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing —
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,

the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet —
all of it
happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt

swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?

One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn’s beautiful body
is sure to be there.
(Courtesy of Famous Poets and Poems)

~~~~~

It makes me think of how my life is unfolding. So far, it’s been a slow year, in our home, while enjoying my meanderings up here in my mountains. Though it’s been awhile since I last posted, there’s nothing much to report. But, I wanted to catch up and let you all know I’m still here . . . alive and kicking.

I’ve been watching events around me and in the world, somehow through different eyes. My heart has been heavy, at times, and yet full learning to see the magic in all of it. I’ve taken time to observe the process in the good and not so good times, realizing nothing really ever stays the same. Life is always changing in us and all around — ever shifting and moving.

And, ah yes, I did enjoy one of those mini-milestones in a senior moment this summer for my birthday. I’ve been looking for the magic this year, since I first noted it was going to be a year full of 7’s for me — this year being 2017, my birth day is 27, birth year 47 and turned 70. My grandson is even 17 most of this year until October.

Yet, the magic is not where I thought. It turns out some of it was in a little magic dust with hubby preparing one of my favorite restaurant-dinner dishes on my birthday. He even baked my favorite cake that I always loved back in my childhood days at my grandmother’s, making it special.

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Life takes us on twists and turns and I get caught up in it on occasion or simply never notice the little miracles that appear at my feet. I’m taken back at times, as I pause and find myself in awe at the wonder of it all.

There is magic around me in the little things and subtle shifts, when I join in the dance and notice. I can plow along and never perceive what’s happening around me, playing invisible or even insignificant. But, just like a tiny feather laying on the ground everything has value and a purpose.

Thank you for continuing to be out there and support me. I enjoy your visits and I’m humbled when you stop by to read and share your thoughts at my kitchen table. You’re my treasure.

Pat at the ‘ol kitchen table

Acknowledgements: Little Summer Poem Touching The Subje more...

Shine Little Glow Worm

Posted on July 25, 2014 by Pat

Fireflies by <ahref=”https://www.flickr.com/photos/65699349@N00/2620635133/”>Rex Sorgatz — Courtesy PhotoDropper

“Shine little glow worm, glimmer . . . glimmer.” How many of you remember that old tune and seeing lightening bugs (or more commonly fireflies) growing up back east? I do. We knew we were deep in the middle of summer with the first signs of lightening bugs blinking off and on in the night sky. Off we’d go giggling and laughing as we chased them around our backyard. Continue reading →

Reblogged: “Peek-a-Boo, I See You!” by FeyGirl at Serenity Spell

Posted on August 13, 2013 by Pat

I hope you’ll read and enjoy this short “Peek-a-Boo, I See You!” post by FeyGirl at “Serenity Spell”. To me, it’s a sweet reminder of how delicate and precious life is in the world we live. FeyGirl devotes her site and work to nature and is an advocate for the Florida Everglades.

Her quote from Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Pulitzer prize-winning novelist and conservationist, was especially meaningful to me. I think you’ll enjoy her pictures, as well. Here it is:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Continue reading →