Monday, February 2, 2009
The Astilbe Predictions
The shadows are crisp in Minnesota today, 4 degrees above, smart and shiny. In other parts of the country, they are bragging about the buds on the hydrangea, but my astilbe poked dead heads up, and predicted at least 6 more weeks of winter. Where the icy birdbath sits, there is at least a foot and a half of snow blanketing the crocus bulbs.
I predict that my studio did well at the contest. Remarks and emails from the students so far sound promising. 12 students of mine participated this year. The best news for me is when they don't need to know whether they won, but they felt they performed well, or even know that they didn't play that great. They speak matter of factly, almost boldly. Wednesday's US Postal holds answers.
Today I reminded a young lady to pedal with her heel on the floor. She turned and said, "You sound like my mom when she tells me to chew with my mouth shut." Laughing, I told her it was more important than that. But my prediction is that neither Mom or I are done with our messages to her.
Although no birds are chirping in Minnesota yet, the students are!
In honor of poetry day in blogland, here is a poem that the English recited on Feb. 2nd, hedgehog in hand (groundhogs were easier to find in the US). A healthy mix of pagan and Catholic images prevail on this day, which is halfway between solstace and equinox. "The church" planned a purification day to coincide with this day. 40 days after the birth of a son, women would purify themselves in the temple, having been unclean and unable to enter the temple before that. Feb. 2 is 40 days after Christ's birth. The German church named it Candlemass, and blessed their church candles.
If Candlemas be fair and bright
Winter has another flight
If Candlemas brings cloud and rain
Winter will not come again