Letters from Ascension Hermitage and Sanctuary

Ory, the hen inspecting the Christmas tinsel turned hawk deterrent . . . so far, so good!  With the tree in the chicken yard now bare of leaves, a hawk was watching . . . but we're hoping that multiple strands of glittering tinsel and several metal pie plates will dissuade the hawk from swooping down. We plan to add two owl statues soon - just waiting for them to "fly" in from Amazon! Have a safe day - and we hope to do so as well!  

 Yes, it is Christmas Eve, and yes, the forsythia is blooming! We have had some cold days, but today is warm and breezy ahead of a cold front, but who would ever imagine forsythia in winter?  A Christmas gift? Sign of an early Spring? A sign of hope in these short Winter days? Maybe all of those things! Stay safe, and may your Christmas be merry and bright!  

Even in the midst of preparing for Christmas, life and death issues take up a large part of every day. . . and so today, we said good-bye to our wonderful kitty Jesse. Jesse was not old, perhaps middle-aged, but not old, but his death - just as that of his brothers Joshua and Jonas - came quickly, seemingly out of nowhere. We suspect that the brothers had some congenital heart or kidney condition that took them away far too soon. As a very young cat, Jesse was aloof, preferring the company of other cats to that of humans; as he got older he certainly welcomed me into his circle of friends. He loved sitting in the window and was always one of the first cats at the food dish. Last night he sat on the window seat, staring at the fading day. He had a faraway look in his eyes and leaned against my chest when I picked him up. I think we both knew that would be our last hug. "See you at the bridge," I promised. And this morning he was gone.

  Some keep the Sabbath going to church by Emily Dickinson Some keep the Sabbath going to church — I keep it, staying at Home — With a Bobolink for a Chorister — And an Orchard, for a Dome — Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice — I just wear my Wings — And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church, Our little Sexton — sings. God preaches, a noted Clergyman — And the sermon is never long, So instead of getting to Heaven, at last — I’m going, all along. ["Some keep the Sabbath going to church” by Emily Dickinson. Public Domain.] Same sentiments here - although the Dome would most certainly be a pecan, maple, or black walnut tree - and the Chorister a wren, chickadee, or warbler.