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    Home & Garden

    Season by Season

    Join Alexis and Kit, lifelong friends who now live on opposite coasts, as they explore poetry, music, and sound on a journey through the rhythm of nature expressed by the seasons.

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    Latest Episodes:
    Autumn Equinox Sep 19, 2021
    Show notes

    September 22 - October 7In this exuberant episode, Alexis and Kit are joined by Annie Patterson and Peter Blood of “Rise Up & Sing” in discussing songs and music of the harvest season. Our co-hosts explore the community-driven traditions around the harvest and thanks-giving, and celebrations of the equinox around the world. In Hiro’s Corner, we gain perspective on rice paddies drying up. Autumn Equinox Alexis & Kit Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.Autumn Equinox Spotify Companion Playlist Poems Featured in this PodcastThe Harvest Moon by Henry Wadsworth LongfellowIt is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanesAnd roofs of villages, on woodland crestsAnd their actual neighborhoods of nestsDeserted, on the curtained window-panesOf rooms where children sleep, on country lanesAnd harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests!Gone are the birds that were our summer guests,With the last sheaves return the laboring wains!All things are symbols: the external showsOf Nature have their image in the mindAs flowers and fruits and falling of the leavesThe song-birds leave us at summer’s close,Only the empty nests are left behind,And the pipings of the quail amid the sheaves****Autumn, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (excerpt)Go, sit upon the lofty hill,And turn your eyes around,Where waving woods and waters wildDo hymn an autumn sound.The summer sun is faint on them --The summer flowers depart --Sit still -- as all transform'd to stone,Except your musing heart. ***We’ll stroke the gentlemanWith our naked swordWherewith we shear meadows and fieldsWe shear princes and lordsIf the gentleman will stand beer and brandyThe joke will soon be overBut, if our prayer he does not likeThe sword has the right to strike— Unknown***Last night the reapers from their harvest home sangAnd stored the full garners with GrainThe woods and the echoes with merry sounds rangAs they bore the last sheaf from the plain-- By Ann and Jane Taylor and Adelaide O'Keeffe***Corn Dolly by Minnie Lambeth Tis but a thing of straw, they sayYet even straw can sturdy bePlaited into a doll like meAnd in the days of long agoTo help the seeds once more to growI was an offering to the godsA very simple say indeedOf asking them to intercedeThat barn and grainery o’erflowAt harvest time with fruit and cornTo fill again Amalthea’s horn***"The king and high priest of all the festivals was the autumn Thanksgiving. When the apples were all gathered and the cider was all made, and the yellow pumpkins were rolled in from many a hill in billows of gold, and the corn was husked, and the labors of the season were done, and the warm, late days of Indian Summer came in, dreamy, and calm, and still, with just enough frost to crisp the ground of a morning, but with warm traces of benignant, sunny hours at noon, there came over the community a sort of genial repose of spirit - a sense of something accomplished." — Harriet Beacher Stowe***The Corn Song (excerpt), by John Greenleaf WhittierHeap high the farmer’s wintry hoard!Heap high the golden corn!No richer gift has Autumn pouredFrom out her lavish horn!Let other lands, exulting, gleanThe apple from the pine,The orange from its glossy green,The cluster from the vine;We better love the hardy giftOur rugged vales bestow,To cheer us when the storm shall driftOur harvest-fields with snow.***Everywhere there areancestor sprits - everywhere there arespider lilies— Morio Suzume 森尾雀子***Up into the skya penetrating azure--red spider lily— Yamaguchi Seishi***In the drained fields,How long and thinThe legs of the scarecrow— Buson***Gleaning the rice fieldThey work towardThe sunny places--Buson***AwakeningDawn, and I am completely still, weightlessIn that space where dreams drift awayQuietly in the moments of daybreak.My senses, aware something stirsAs morning comes bending the light softlyTo whisper a new day.Imperceptibly, energy breezes in the treetops,A dance that proclaims nature’s presenceBefore high noon.There is a change in that first cool dayThat follows a long summer’s heat.A time to listen and watch the differences Fall bringsIn the parallels to cycle life.The afternoon of recognition, a shift in paradigm.Awake, prepare before day’s end.Bounty comes, before Winter’s night.' The Seasons in Art The Harvest by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1565). Musicians & Music Featured this Episode Shelley Otis, HarpistShelley Otis is a harpist, pianist, arranger, composer; seven-time winner of the annual Couple’s Choice Award, multi-year winner of the Knot’s Best of Weddings. Alexis first met Shelley when they were seated next to each other in Grenoble, France. When it came time to create this episode, Alexis thought that Shelley’s beautiful harp would be absolutely perfect. Learn more about Shelley and her services on her website. Roma RansomRoma Ransom plays eclectic bohemian world folk-jazz music that aims at transcending our audience and invigorating the crowd with tunes that can transport the listener. Learn more on their website. Larry PiperLarry Piper is known on the internet as a spouse, pop, guy in the choir, physical chemist, and computer/web dilettante. He lives in Reading, MA with his spouse and his little Jug dog, Edamame.He used to sing his children to sleep. But, since his granddaughters live far away, he decided an antidote to their distance was to record a series of 'Grampa Songs', which their parents could then play for them. The selection used in this pod cast is much in the style of 'Grampa Songs'. Annie Patterson & Peter Blood / Rise Up and SingAnnie Patterson has a rare voice that spreads hope, stirs your soul and makes you glad to be working together for a better world. She is a singer songwriter, old timey banjo player as well as jazz vocalist with the swing trio, Girls from Mars. Her long time partner, Peter Blood, often accompanies her on fiddle & guitar. Together, Annie & Peter have played a central role in helping create a quiet revolution of group singing in North America. A new documentary film, We Began to Sing, follows their musical journey as well as the work of friend and mentor Pete Seeger in creating peace and social justice through communal singing. Learn more on their website. Visual Examples of Seasonal Words Higanbana / Spider Lily Inari Inari fox messangers John Barleycorn Green Corn Dance Ta no Kami Terraced Rice Fields Cider Pressing Chuseok Grange Display Corn Dolly Grange Display No. 2

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Fading Heat Aug 21, 2021
    Show notes

    August 22 - September 6In this very vegetal episode, author John Forti joins Alexis and Kit to discuss his new book “The Heirloom Gardener.” Our co-hosts take a look at the bounty of the late summer vegetable garden, and admire a beautiful visitor to the garden: the dragonfly. Fading Heat Alexis & Kit Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.Fading Heat Spotify Companion Playlist The Heirloom Gardener and its author, John Forti"The Heirloom Gardener - Traditional Plants and Skills for the Modern World" by John Forti Published by Timber Press/Workman Publishing.These days, we all need some good news and a way to participate in meaningful change. The Heirloom Gardeneris a book for gardeners who want to deepen their knowledge and improve life for families, pollinators and wildlife in their own backyards. It’s a love poem to the earth; a map to the art of living intentionally and a guidepost for environmental gardeners and artisans. It unearths old-ways, storied plants and artisanal life-skills; like seed-saving, herbalism, foraging, distillation, ethnobotany and organics which contribute to a new 21st century arts and crafts movement. With woodcuts from Caldecott Medal artist Mary Azarian, The Heirloom Garden offers a dose of wild hope for a weary nation. Learn more. John Forti is a garden historian and ethnobotanist who has directed gardens for Plimoth Plantation Museum, Strawbery Banke Museum, Massachusetts Horticultural Society, and Bedrock Gardens. As a Slow Food Slow Food USA Governor and biodiversity specialist, his preservation work has helped to restore countless native and heirloom plants and has brought traditional artisanal practices to modern thinking. He has won numerous awards for historic garden preservation, children’s garden design, herbal and historical education, and the 2021 Award of Excellence from National Garden Clubs, the largest volunteer gardening organization in the world. This book was inspired by his posts as 'The Heirloom Gardener - John Forti' which go out regularly to millions on Facebook that value his uniquely curated blend of history, horticulture, environmentalism, poetry, art, kitchen, and garden craft. He gardens and lives along the banks of the Piscataqua River in Maine.Reviews for The Heirloom Gardener“The Heirloom Gardener is a book for gardeners who want to engage with nature through pollinators and wildlife in their own backyards. It offers a tapestry of storied plants, artisanal practices, and homestead lifestyles. In its pages, John reminds us that there is always room for an undercurrent when the mainstream gets too big; and empowers readers with a toolkit of traditional and sustainable practices for an emerging artisanal crafts movement, and a brighter future”. Alice Waters, Chef & Owner, Chez Panisse, Founder, The Edible Schoolyard Project“Rather than dwelling solely in the past, John Forti’s groundbreaking book builds on shared roots to forge a stronger, better, greener tomorrow. Every sentence inspires you to personally become a participant in the evolution. This book is flat out brilliant.”—Tovah Martin, horticulturist and author of The Garden in Every Sense and Season. Poems Featured in this PodcastPlant a Garden, by Edgar GuestIf your purse no longer bulgesand you’ve lost your golden treasure,If at times you think you’re lonelyand have hungry grown for pleasure,Don’t sit by your hearth and grumble,don’t let mind and spirit harden.If it’s thrills of joy you wish forget to work and plant a garden!If it’s drama that you sigh for,plant a garden and you’ll get itYou will know the thrill of battlefighting foes that will beset itIf you long for entertainment andfor pageantry most glowing,Plant a garden and this summer spendyour time with green things growing.If it’s comradeship you sight for,learn the fellowship of daisies.You will come to know your neighborby the blossoms that he raises;If you’d get away from boredomand find new delights to look for,Learn the joy of budding pansieswhich you’ve kept a special nook for.If you ever think of dyingand you fear to wake tomorrowPlant a garden! It will cure youof your melancholy sorrowOnce you’ve learned to know peonies,petunias, and roses,You will find every morningsome new happiness discloses.*** "O Spirit of the Summertime!Bring back the roses to the dells;The swallow from her distant clime,The honey-bee from drowsy cells.Bring back the friendship of the sun;The gilded evenings, calm and late,When merry children homeward run,And peeping stars bid lovers wait.Bring back the singing; and the scentOf meadowlands at dewy prime;—Oh, bring again my heart's content,Thou Spirit of the Summertime!"- William Allingham ***We have a little garden,A garden of our own,And every day we water thereThe seeds that we have sown.We love our little garden,And tend it with such care,You will not find a faced leafOr blighted blossom there.-- Beatrix Potter***Isabella, or The Pot of Basil by John KeatsAnd so she ever fed it with thin tears, Whence thick, and green, and beautiful it grew, So that it smelt more balmy than its peers Of Basil-tufts in Florence; for it drew Nurture besides, and life, from human fears, From the fast mouldering head there shut from view: So that the jewel, safely casketed, Came forth, and in perfumed leafits spread.***Sunflowers by Grace Hazard ConklingSun-flowers, stop growing!If you touch the sky where those clouds are passingLike tufts of dandelion gone to seed,The sky will put you out!You know it is blue like the sea . . .Maybe it is wet, too!Your gold faces will be gone foreverIf you brush against that blueEver so softly!***Tomatoes by Pablo NerudaThe streetfilled with tomatoes,midday,summer,light ishalvedlikeatomato,its juicerunsthrough the streets.In December,unabated,the tomatoinvadesthe kitchen,it enters at lunchtime,takesits easeon countertops,among glasses,butter dishes,blue saltcellars.It shedsits own light,benign majesty.Unfortunately, we mustmurder it:the knifesinksinto living flesh,redviscera,a coolsun,profound,inexhaustible,populates the saladsof Chile,happily, it is wedto the clear onion,and to celebrate the unionwepouroil,essentialchild of the olive,onto its halved hemispheres,pepperaddsits fragrance,salt, its magnetism;it is the weddingof the day,parsleyhoistsits flag,potatoesbubble vigorously,the aromaof the roastknocksat the door,it's time!come on!and, onthe table, at the midpointof summer,the tomato,star of earth,recurrentand fertilestar,displaysits convolutions,its canals,its remarkable amplitudeand abundance,no pit,no husk,no leaves or thorns,the tomato offersits giftor fiery colorand cool completeness.***Tall nettles cover up, as they have doneThese many springs, the rusty harrow, the ploughLong worn out, and the roller made of stone:Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.This corner of the farmyard I like most:As well as any bloom upon a flowerI like the dust on the nettles, never lostExcept to prove the sweetness of a shower.-- Edward Thomas***The Aster Flower by John Gould FletcherPale on its stalk, the aster flowerExhales its beauty to the night;The dry leaves scatter on the grass,Brown flecks on bits of jade.The haze of autumn hides the trees,To-night shall be turned the hour-glass of my life;Now all my thoughts going homewardsIn the distance are singing songs of you.Purple and gold, the aster flowerIs an image of my autumnal love:Its golden centre is like a torchTo kindle joy in the long still night,A torch of love with violet rays,Grief at its enigmatic heart:Frail clustered flower of my dreams,You shall bloom to-night, you shall bloom to-night!***It isn't alone the astersIn my garden,It is the butterflies gleamingLike crowns of kings and queens!It isn't alone purpleAnd blue on the edge of purple,It is what the sun does,And the air moving clearly,The petals moving and the wings,In my queer little garden!-Hilda Conkling***I wish I wasa dragonflyhallelujahin sungleam.-- Anonymous***Today I saw the dragonflyCome from the wells where he did lie.An inner impulse rent the veilOf his old husk: from head to tailCame out clear plates of sapphire mail.He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;Thro’ crofts and pastures wet with dewA living flash of light he flew.Alfred Tennyson***A Dragonfly, by Eleanor FarjeonWhen the heat of summerMade drowsy the land,A dragonfly cameAnd sat on my hand,With its blue jointed body,And wings like spun glass,It lit on my fingersAs though they were grass.***alert eyesalways open --dragonfly — Issa***The start of autumnis always decided byThe red dragonfly–Kaya Shirao***Over the flowing waterchasing its shadow -the dragonfly-- Chiyo-jo***Zucchini that never came to be, Summer 2021 by Ryan Trump and Caroline Ideus Peel it, spiral it, bake it, fry it, mash it, caramelize it,prepare it and plate it in ways only limited by imagination.The thrill of early summer sprouts with alpine-shaped leaves,crisp orange blossoms hold endless possibilities.The promise of a continued harvest, defiantly unending,until winter dreams clash with the realities of limited imagination. Till it, compost it, mix it, weed it, aerate it, mulch it,prepare and pamper the earth with comfort and routine. Thrill of unexpected garden defeats and surprise harvests.Crisp spring sprouts cut short by unspoken twilight guests,the promise of orange blossoms dashed by wilted leaves.Uprooted hopes of zucchini that never came to be,turned into a renewed thrill of midsummer sprouts and endless possibilities. Works Referenced & Quotes“How to Pick a Peach” by John Ruskins, Zucchini chapterFlying on Iridescent Wings: Dragonflies in Japan’s Imagination by Selena HoySunflower from UIC Heritage GardenAll About Asters by Fine GardeningThe Heirloom Gardener by John Forti Visual Examples of Seasonal Words Garlic Zucchini Red dragonfly Vegetable Gardens Late summer grass Nightshade Tomato Aster Basil Music Featured in this EpisodeWheel of Fortune (with Les Gauchers Orchestra), Lee MaddefordGoldberg Variations BWV 998, 28 & 29Dill Pickles, Heftone Banjo OrchestraShimmer, KrackatoaQuintet for Piano and Winds, 2 Larghetto by W.A. MozartAcross the Tappen Zee, Glen Jones and Laura BairdBach Prelude & Fugue 7, John Lewis GrantPorto Largo, Alexandre BateirasThe Woods, and a Late Summer Dusk, AxletreePictures of the Floating World, BogongAka Tombo, Chris Whittaker

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Sweltering Heat Jul 24, 2021
    Show notes

    July 22 - August 6

    This balmy episode features special guest Elijah Sobel, discussing swimming holes. Alexis and Kit chill out by finding ways to stay cool during record-breaking hot temperatures, focusing on “cooling things” such as iced tea, goldfish, and “uchimizu.” In Hiro's Corner, a refreshing look at the coolness of far-away twinkling lights.

    Sweltering Heat Alexis & Kit

    Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.

    Sweltering Heat Spotify Companion Playlist

    Coming Up in August 2021: The Heirloom Gardener and its author, John Forti

    "The Heirloom Gardener - Traditional Plants and Skills for the Modern World" by John Forti

    Published by Timber Press/Workman Publishing.

    These days, we all need some good news and a way to participate in meaningful change. The Heirloom Gardeneris a book for gardeners who want to deepen their knowledge and improve life for families, pollinators and wildlife in their own backyards. It’s a love poem to the earth; a map to the art of living intentionally and a guidepost for environmental gardeners and artisans. It unearths old-ways, storied plants and artisanal life-skills; like seed-saving, herbalism, foraging, distillation, ethnobotany and organics which contribute to a new 21st century arts and crafts movement. With woodcuts from Caldecott Medal artist Mary Azarian, The Heirloom Garden offers a dose of wild hope for a weary nation. Learn more.

    John Forti is a garden historian and ethnobotanist who has directed gardens for Plimoth Plantation Museum, Strawbery Banke Museum, Massachusetts Horticultural Society, and Bedrock Gardens. As a Slow Food Slow Food USA Governor and biodiversity specialist, his preservation work has helped to restore countless native and heirloom plants and has brought traditional artisanal practices to modern thinking. He has won numerous awards for historic garden preservation, children’s garden design, herbal and historical education, and the 2021 Award of Excellence from National Garden Clubs, the largest volunteer gardening organization in the world. This book was inspired by his posts as 'The Heirloom Gardener - John Forti' which go out regularly to millions on Facebook that value his uniquely curated blend of history, horticulture, environmentalism, poetry, art, kitchen, and garden craft. He gardens and lives along the banks of the Piscataqua River in Maine.

    Reviews for The Heirloom Gardener

    “The Heirloom Gardener is a book for gardeners who want to engage with nature through pollinators and wildlife in their own backyards. It offers a tapestry of storied plants, artisanal practices, and homestead lifestyles. In its pages, John reminds us that there is always room for an undercurrent when the mainstream gets too big; and empowers readers with a toolkit of traditional and sustainable practices for an emerging artisanal crafts movement, and a brighter future”. Alice Waters, Chef & Owner, Chez Panisse, Founder, The Edible Schoolyard Project

    “Rather than dwelling solely in the past, John Forti’s groundbreaking book builds on shared roots to forge a stronger, better, greener tomorrow. Every sentence inspires you to personally become a participant in the evolution. This book is flat out brilliant.”—Tovah Martin, horticulturist and author of The Garden in Every Sense and Season.

    Swimming Holes and Elijah Sobel

    “Where the River Deepens: Exploring Place-based Relationships Through the Swimming Hole Experience” by Elijah Sobel

    Want to experience the river with Elijah? Check out his company in New Hampshire: North Country Kayak

    About Elijah:

    Born and raised in New Hampshire, Elijah fell in love with the White Mountains at an early age with ski trips to Tuckerman’s Ravine and hiking the Presidential Range.
    When he was a child, his dad, David Sobel stuck him in the front of a whitewater canoe, and he ran his first Class III rapid at age seven. After attending the University of Vermont, Elijah moved to North Lake Tahoe, California. He spent seven years working in the outdoor recreation industry, honing his passion and craft for guiding individuals and groups in wilderness settings.
    In 2019, Elijah relocated back to Bethlehem, New Hampshire and currently works for Holderness School. His excitement for paddling and experiences on the water is contagious, along with a strong focus on safety for everyone.
    Inspired by an enduring sense of adventure and the possibilities of sharing his passion with others, Elijah is excited to bring guided trips for all skill levels to the North Country.

    Poems Featured in this Episode

    Summer Wind, by William Cullen Bryant

    It is a sultry day; the sun has drank
    The dew that lay upon the morning grass;
    There is no rustling in the lofty elm
    That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
    Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
    And interrupted murmur of the bee,
    Settling on the sick flowers, and then again
    Instantly on the wing. The plants around
    Feel the too potent fervours: the tall maize
    Rolls up its long green leaves; the clover droops
    Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms.

    ***

    Hot Weather Philosophy (excerpt) by J. H. Harding

    I only wish I could believe
    While here in the flesh I moan,
    That heat is cold and cold is heat,
    I'd make a temperate zone...
    I cannot... crawl from out my heated flesh
    While winds blow through my bones.
    Yet, I can dream of frost and snow,
    Icicles and icebergs grand...

    ***

    The first melon
    shall it be cut into quarters
    or into round slices?

    — Basho

    ***

    if someone comes
    change into frogs!
    cooling melons

    — Issa
    ***

    the clinking of ice
    even this tea perspires
    in sweltering heat

    — Kit

    ***
    Time for you and time for me,
    And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
    And for a hundred visions and revisions,
    Before the taking of toast and tea

    — T. S. Eliot

    ***

    This edamame bean -
    it flies for nine centimeters and then
    enters my mouth

    — Shiki

    ***

    With a kitchen knife
    choosing eels...
    a cool evening

    — Issa

    ***

    Excerpt from The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame:

    “The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spell-bound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea.”

    ***

    Gently I stir a white feather fan,
    With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
    I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
    A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head.

    — Li Po

    ***

    The setting sun is shining
    on the drops of sprinkled water on the road

    -- Toru Sakano

    ***

    The bustle of the alleys
    Is arush with water

    -- Mayumi Yoshida
    ***

    As we wait
    A small breeze alights
    Off the dampened streets

    -- Mieko Takanashi

    ***

    Midday nap--
    the scent of lotuses
    Meanders

    — Issa


    ***
    Chased away
    from my napping spot...
    mosquito-spurting grass

    — Issa

    ***
    Since it's cool down there
    take a little nap...
    bottom of the well

    -- Issa


    ***

    The melon
    can't sink completely...
    the well

    — Issa
    ***
    The gleam of a goldfish
    being scooped
    at a festival stall at night

    — Taneda Santoka
    ***
    A goldfish seller
    with a smile
    on this straight road

    — Hirahata Seito

    ***

    Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
    Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
    More than cool reason ever comprehends.
    The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
    Are of imagination all compact:
    One sees more devils than vast hell can hold —
    That is the madman;
    The lover, all as frantic,
    Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt.
    The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
    Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
    And, as imagination bodies forth
    The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
    Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
    A local habitation and a name.
    Such tricks hath strong imagination,
    That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
    It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
    Or, in the night, imagining some fear,
    How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear.

    — William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 5, sc. 1

    ***

    And after seven nights
    of summer's brightness Weed-month slips
    into the dwellings; everywhere August brings
    to peoples of the earth Lammas Day. So autumn comes,
    after that number of nights but one,
    bright, laden with fruits. Plenty is revealed,
    beautiful upon the earth.
    — from The Menologium of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle

    Visual Examples of Seasonal Words

    Melons (Cantaloupe)
    Melons (Cantaloupe) Iced Tea
    Iced Tea uchimizu
    uchimizu Unagi - Eel
    Unagi - Eel Goldfish Scooping
    Goldfish Scooping Edamame
    Edamame Watermelon
    Watermelon

    Works Cited

    “Foods American Once Loved to Eat” by Smithsonian Magazine

    Music Featured in this Episode

    • The Kyoto Connection, Water

    • The Kyoto Connection, Ikigai

    • Blue Dot Sessions, Lemon and Melon

    • Josh Woodward, Water in the Creek (Instramental version)

    • Xylo-Ziko, Imagery

    • Almusic34, Wind chimes harmony

    • Pistol Jazz, Hi no Tori

    • James Beaudreau, Plum

    • Debussy, Pour less agrements

    • Edoy, Fruition


    Summer Solstice Jun 19, 2021
    Show notes

    June 20 - July 7

    In this mouth-watering episode, Kit and Alexis celebrate the longest day of the year by dining al fresco! Our co-hosts prepare for picnics and barbecues, consider the outdoor activities of berry picking and fishing, and savor cooling foods. In Hiro's Corner, an examination of what we enjoy about shorter nights.

    Summer Solstice Alexis & Kit

    Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.

    Summer Solstice
    Spotify Companion Playlist

    Poems Featured in this Episode

    Summer, by James Russell Lowell. Excerpt from The Vision of Sir Launfal.
    Now is the high tide of the year,
    And whatever of life hath ebbed away
    Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer,
    Into every bare inlet and creek and bay.
    We may shut our eyes, but we can not help knowing
    That skies are clear and grass is growing;
    The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
    That dandelions are blossoming near,
    That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing,
    That the river is bluer than the sky,
    That the robin is plastering his house hard by;
    And if the breeze kept the good news back
    For other couriers we should not lack;
    We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,—
    And hark! how clear bold chanticleer,
    Warmed with the new wine of the year,
    Tells all in his lusty crowing.

    ***

    Summer by Jackie Meyer

    At very long last the summer is here!
    It's barbecue time with coolers of beer,
    Watermelon slices for children at play
    Hydrants will soon be exploding their spray!

    Laughter is heard from the tables outdoors
    As merchandise beckons from neighboring stores.

    Business booms for my man on the street
    His cart pictured with colors of great things to eat.
    Mangoes, papayas, and melons galore!
    Cherries and berries and so very much more!

    Yes! Summer is here, it has finally begun,
    Let's toast to a future of days in the sun!

    ***

    At Stonehenge by Katherine Lee Bates (excerpt)

    Grim stones whose gray lips keep your secret well,
    Our hands that touch you touch an ancient terror,
    An ancient woe, colossal citadel
    Of some fierce faith, some heaven-affronting error.
    Rude-built, as if young Titans on this wold
    Once played with ponderous blocks a striding giant
    Had brought from oversea, till child more bold
    Tumbled their temple down with foot defiant.

    ***

    Excerpt from “Goblin Market” by Christina Rossetti
    Morning and evening
    Maids heard the goblins cry:
    'Come buy our orchard fruits,
    Come buy, come buy:
    Apples and quinces,
    Lemons and oranges,
    Plump unpecked cherries,
    Melons and raspberries,
    Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
    Swart-headed mulberries,
    Wild free-born cranberries,
    Crab-apples, dewberries,
    Pine-apples, blackberries,
    Apricots, strawberries;--
    All ripe together
    In summer weather,--
    Morns that pass by,
    Fair eves that fly;
    Come buy, come buy:
    Our grapes fresh from the vine,
    Pomegranates full and fine,
    Dates and sharp bullaces,
    Rare pears and greengages,
    Damsons and bilberries,
    Taste them and try:
    Currants and gooseberries,
    Bright-fire-like barberries,
    Figs to fill your mouth,
    Citrons from the South,
    Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
    Come buy, come buy.'

    ***

    Are these juice-stained hands
    mine, or my grandmother’s?
    Blackberry season

    — Kit
    (inspired by Margaret Atwood’s "Blackberries")

    ***

    Excerpt from “Blueberries” by Robert Frost

    Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb,
    Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum
    In the cavernous pail of the first one to come!
    And all ripe together, not some of them green
    And some of them ripe! You ought to have seen!


    ***

    The Queen of Hearts
    She made some tarts,
    All on a summer's day
    The Knave of Hearts
    He stole those tarts,
    And took them clean away.

    The King of Hearts
    Called for the tarts,
    And beat the knave full sore;
    The Knave of Hearts
    Brought back the tarts,
    And vowed he'd steal no more.

    — Anonymous

    ***

    A handful of cherries
    She gave me in passing,
    The wizened old woman,
    And wished me good luck-
    And again I was dreaming,
    A boy in the sunshine,
    And life but an orchard
    Of cherries to pluck.

    — Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

    ***

    “Les Temps des Cerises” - words by Jean-Baptiste Clément

    When are in the time of cherries
    The gay nightingale and the mockingbird rejoice together.
    The pretty girls have folly in their heads
    And the lovers sun in their hearts.
    When we sing the time of the cherries
    The mockingbird sing far better.

    But the time of the cherries is very short,
    When we go by two by two to pick hanging earrings,
    Love cherries dressed in bright red like rubies,
    Falling under the leaves like drops of blood,
    But the time of the cherries is very short,
    Coral earrings that we pick up while we dream!

    ***

    Midsummer, by William Cullen Bryant
    A power is on the earth and in the air,
    From which the vital spirit shrinks afraid,
    And shelters him in nooks of deepest shade,
    From the hot steam and from the fiery glare.
    Look forth upon the earth—her thousand plants
    Are smitten; even the dark sun-loving maize
    Faints in the field beneath the torrid blaze;
    The herd beside the shaded fountain pants;
    For life is driven from all the landscape brown;
    The bird hath sought his tree, the snake his den,
    The trout floats dead in the hot stream, and men
    Drop by the sunstroke in the populous town:
    As if the Day of Fire had dawned, and sent
    Its deadly breath into the firmament.

    ***

    Plum-wine making complete
    A cat arrives
    — Murayama Furusato

    ***

    Aging plum wine
    Made for someone

    — Nihei Yoko

    ***

    In her pajamas
    Mom shakes the plum wine bottle

    — Sonoko Tamura

    ***

    Heaven, by Rupert Brooke (excerpt)
    Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,
    Dawdling away their wat’ry noon)
    Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,
    Each secret fishy hope or fear.
    Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
    But is there anything Beyond?

    ***

    In a water basin
    they nod to each other -
    gourds and eggplants

    — Yosa Buson
    ***
    kneading eggplants…
    purple on salt remains
    like light after the sunset
    — Yabuki Nobuhiko
    ***
    The parent bee
    its honey being stolen
    buzzes near

    — Issa

    ***

    The Song of the Bee, by Marian Douglas
    Buzz! buzz! buzz!
    This is the song of the bee.
    His legs are of yellow;
    A jolly, good fellow,
    And yet a great worker is he.
    In days that are sunny
    He's getting his honey;
    In days that are cloudy
    He's making his wax:
    On pinks and on lilies,
    And gay daffodillies,
    And columbine blossoms,
    He levies a tax!

    Buzz! buzz! buzz!
    The sweet-smelling clover,
    He, humming, hangs over;
    The scent of the roses
    Makes fragrant his wings:
    He never gets lazy;
    From thistle and daisy,
    And weeds of the meadow,
    Some treasure he brings.
    Buzz! buzz! buzz!
    From morning's first light
    Till the coming of night,
    He's singing and toiling
    The summer day through.
    Oh! we may get weary,
    And think work is dreary;
    'Tis harder by far
    To have nothing to do.

    ***

    Chopsticks float
    In the water
    the end of the somen nagashi slide

    — Hakko Yokoyama

    ***

    Into the flow of the somen Nagashi
    Chopsticks
    Some skillful, others clumsy

    — Yamada Yoshiyuki

    ***
    Nagashi somen
    I am eating
    What coolness tastes like

    — Junzo Yoshida

    ***

    Moonlight, Summer Moonlight by Emily Jane Brontë

    ’Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
    All soft and still and fair;
    The solemn hour of midnight
    Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

    But most where trees are sending
    Their breezy boughs on high,
    Or stooping low are lending
    A shelter from the sky.

    And there in those wild bowers
    A lovely form is laid;
    Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
    Wave gently round her head.

    ***

    Seasonal Recipes:

    By kigo:

    Blueberries: Blueberry Tiramisu “Bluemisu”
    Gooseberries: Gooseberry, Meadowsweet, and Wild Strawberry Jelly
    Plums: Plum Barbecue Sauce
    Apricots: Apricot Compote
    Eggplant: Grilled Eggplant - or - Eggplant Shigiyaki
    Cucumber: Cucumber and Tomato Salad
    “Gone Fishin’”: Basil Rosemary Grilled Trout

    Music Featured in this Episode

    • A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Overture via MusOpen

    • Midsummer Meadow Party by Lobo Loco

    • The Butterfly, Kids on the Mountain by Slante

    • Clarinet Quintet in A Major, K. 581 performed by Musicians from Malboro

    • Americana Jam by The Underscore Orkestra

    • Summer, Movt. 1, Allefro non molto by Antonio Vivaldi performed by John Harrison

    • Honeysuckle Rose by Fats Waller performed by Chris Whittaker

    • Les Temps Des Cerises performed by Chris Whittaker

    • Flight of the Bumble Bee via Wikimedia Commons

    • Calm by Zylo-Ziko

    • A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Nocturne via MusOpen

    Visual Examples of Seasonal Words

    Blackberries
    Blackberries Blueberry Picking
    Blueberry Picking Juneberries
    Juneberries Apricots
    Apricots Damson plum
    Damson plum Gone Fishing
    Gone Fishing Eggplants
    Eggplants Grilled Eggplants
    Grilled Eggplants Somen Nagashi
    Somen Nagashi Nashi Somen
    Nashi Somen



    Fine Weather May 21, 2021
    Show notes

    May 21 - June 5Join Alexis and Kit for a sunny day in the garden in this episode celebrating “the season when the weather becomes fine and everything starts to go well,” or Fine Weather. Birdsong and the delight of growing things await us during the brighter days of this fine season. In Hiro’s Corner, we look at three rare kigo of early summertime. Fine Weather Alexis & Kit Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.Want the music to last all mini-season long? Check out our companion playlist on Spotify for this episode.Fine Weather Companion Playlist Poems & Prose Featured in this Episode“Sometimes since I've been in the garden I've looked up through the trees at the sky and I have had a strange feeling of being happy as if something was pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast. Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing. Everything is made out of magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden - in all the places.”— From The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodgson Burnett***Seed-Time and Harvest by E. NesbitI'll plant and water, sow and weed,Till not an inch of earth shows brown,And take a vow of each small seedTo grow to greenness and renown:And then some day you'll pass my way,See gold and crimson, bell and star,And catch my garden's soul, and say:"How sweet these cottage gardens are!"***Red Geraniums by Martha Haskell ClarkLife did not bring me silken gowns,Nor jewels for my hair,Nor signs of gabled foreign townsIn distant countries fair,But I can glimpse, beyond my pane, a green and friendly hill,And red geraniums aflame upon my window sill.The brambled cares of everyday,The tiny humdrum things,May bind my feet when they would stray,But still my heart has wingsWhile red geraniums are bloomed against my window glass,And low above my green-sweet hill the gypsy wind-clouds pass.And if my dreamings ne'er come true,The brightest and the best,But leave me lone my journey through,I'll set my heart at rest,And thank God for home-sweet things, a green and friendly hill,And red geraniums aflame upon my window sill.***dressed in a summer robethe pleasant breezewraps me up-- Nakamura Teijo***A seasonal change of clothing--Travelers through the green fieldsSlight dots in white.-- Yosa Buson***that worm-eaten fanlooks charming too --first summer clothes-- Enomoto Seifu***The Green Cornfield, by Christina Rossetti (excerpt)The earth was green, the sky was blue:I saw and heard one sunny mornA skylark hang between the two,A singing speck above the corn;A stage below, in gay accord,White butterflies danced on the wing,And still the singing skylark soared,And silent sank and soared to sing.***To a Skylark, by Percy Bysshe Shelley (excerpt)Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!Bird thou never wert,That from Heaven, or near it,Pourest thy full heartIn profuse strains of unpremeditated art.Higher still and higherFrom the earth thou springestLike a cloud of fire;The blue deep thou wingest,And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.. . . Better than all measuresOf delightful sound,Better than all treasuresThat in books are found,Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!Teach me half the gladnessThat thy brain must know,Such harmonious madnessFrom my lips would flowThe world should listen then, as I am listening now.***May Song, by E. NesbitBIRDS in the green of my gardenBlackbirds and throstle and wren,Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring'sAnd so to your singing again!Birds in my blossoming orchard,Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;The May trees grow white in the park!Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,Cuckoo and nightingale brown,Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--The rain on green leaves dripping down!Fresh with the rain of the May-time,Rich with the promise of June,Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,Love, like a bird, sings in tune!***The deep purple and blue of lupinesStudded, amid the dewy green of the hillsTrimmed, with the wispy grey and white cloudsPinned, against the fresh blue of the skyBillowing, up and up,Mysterious, castle in the airOf childhood— Alexis***From the car seatI spyRegal Lupines, Joyful poppies, Frenzied mustard, Prim buttercups, Rambling Indian paintbrush, Waxy miners lettuce, Dusty asters, Alluring magenta thistles, Hazy blackberry blossoms, These, the roadside flowers— Alexis***Hiding in the forest of broadbeans, Peter Pan— Kakihara Kanegome***Four hands and a bowlPop, pop, pop go the broadbeansGrandma and I sit***Weeds by Edna St. Vincent MillayWhite with daisies and red with sorrelAnd empty, empty under the sky!—Life is a quest and love a quarrel—Here is a place for me to lie.Daisies spring from damnèd seeds,And this red fire that here I seeIs a worthless crop of crimson weeds,Cursed by farmers thriftily.But here, unhated for an hour,The sorrel runs in ragged flame,The daisy stands, a bastard flower,Like flowers that bear an honest name.And here a while, where no wind bringsThe baying of a pack athirst,May sleep the sleep of blessèd things,The blood too bright, the brow accurst.***Why, he was met even nowAs mad as the vexed sea, singing aloudCrowned with rank fumiter, and furrow weeds,With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,Darnel, and all the idle weeds that growIn our sustaining corn-Search every acre in the high-grown field.— William Shakespeare, King Lear (Act 4, Scene 4)***Virtue? a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus. Or bodies are our gardens; to the which, our wills are gardeners; so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuces; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry; why the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.— William Shakespeare, Othello (Act 1, Scene 3)***Pear and Peach alike decorated with bags, the swallow flies above the field - Sumio Mori***With sharp edges, fruit bags dampened by the rain-- Toshio Hisaki***The red paper of hanging bags, the bungalow— Awano Seiho***The Ladybird, by Enid BlytonLadybird, you’re very neatFrom tiny head to little feet,I like your coat of red and black,I like your clean and shining back.Do you polish it each nightTo make it shine so gay and bright,Or do you keep a tiny fayWho rubs it up for you each day?Beneath your shiny back there lieThe gauzy wings with which you fly,You’re spreading them – oh please don’t go,There’s such a lot I want to know.Your house is burning, do you say?Ah, well, of course, you mustn’t stay!***Little Folks in the Grass by Annette WynneIn the grassA thousand little people pass,And all about a myriad little eyes look out,For there are houses every sideWhere the little folks abide,Where the little folks take teaOn a grass blade near a tree;Where they hold their Sabbath meetings,Pass each other, giving greetings,So remember when you passThrough the grass;Little folks are everywhere;Walk quite softly, take great careLest you hurt them unaware,Lest the giant that is YOUPull a house down with his shoe,Pull a house down, roof and all,Killing children, great and small;So the wee eyes look at youAs you walk the meadows through,So remember when you passThrough the grass!***Garden Dusk by Grace Hazard ConklingThis stillness made of azureAnd veiled with lavenderMust be my daylight gardenWhere all the pigeons were!Blue dusk upon my eyelids,Your drifting moods discloseThe moth that is a flower,The wings that are a rose.Make haste, exhale your sweetness,For you must vanish soon:The garden will forget youAt rising of the moonA glory dawns predestinedOf old to banish youAnd bind you fast with rainbowsIn dungeons of the dew.And who will then rememberYour cool and gossamer art?Ah, never moon may exileYour beauty from my heart! Music Heard in this EpisodePaul Laraia, Theme of Fine Weather I & IIBerceuse by Frederick Chopin, performed by Christine HartleyBach, Awake the Voice Commands, BusoniOpus 1, part 4, adagio con dolore (Vaterlands-Bluthen)Ludwig von Beethoven, Sonata WaldsteinUS Coast Guard Band: At the Jazz Band BallDebussy, Pour Les AgrementsDebussy, Preludes Book 2 Paul LauriaViolist Paul Laraia is enjoying the early stages of a multifaceted career as soloist, chamber musician, and quartet violist. Acclaimed for offering “long lines with lyricsm and poise”, in recent seasons Paul has soloed with the Pittsburgh, Atlanta, Bogata, New Jersey, and Nashville Symphonies, traveled all over the world as a principal member of the International Sejong Soloists, and has given hundreds of performances globally with the rising Catalyst Quartet, which Paul joined in 2013. Additionally, he is in demand as a freelance chamber musician, and has been guest artist at many major festivals such as the Yellow Barn, Sarasota, Festival Del Sole, Sitka, Banff, Grand Canyon, and Vail, where he has collaborated with artists such as Donald Weilerstein, Roger Tapping, Anthony Marwood, Michael Kannen, Maria Lambros, Natasha Brofsky, Daniel Phillips, Barry Shiffman, Robert Vermuelan, Joshua Bell, Gil Shaham, Cho-lang Lin, and Stephan Milenkovich. Visual Examples of Seasonal Words Fine Weather Growing things in the garden Geraniums in a window garden Gardening Soramame / Broad Beans Weeding Skylark Skylark in flight Lupines Tomatoes lady bug / lady bird

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Grain Rain Apr 17, 2021
    Show notes

    April 18 - May 5

    In this bounteous episode, "Grain Rain," Alexis and Kit are full of anticipation for a season in full bloom, beginning with the branching out from April’s ripeness into May’s freshness. Author Winifred Bird joins our co-host for an interview discussing her new book, “Eating Wild Japan” from Stonebridge Press.

    Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.

    Grain Rain Alexis & Kit

    Grain Rain Spotify Companion Playlist

    Poems Featured in this Episode

    Rain Clouds by Elizabeth-Ellen Long
    Along a road
    Not built by man
    There winds a silent
    Caravan
    Of camel-clouds
    Whose humped gray backs
    Are weighted down
    With heavy packs
    Of long-awaited,
    Precious rain
    To make the old earth
    Young again
    And dress her shabby
    Fields and hills
    In green grass silk
    With wild-flower frills

    ***
    When April steps aside for May,
    Like diamonds all the rain-drops glisten;
    Fresh violets open every day:
    To some new bird each hour we listen.

    - Lucy Larcom

    ***

    Spring Patchwork, by Abbie Farwell Brown

    If I could patch a coverlet
    From pieces of the Spring,
    What dreams a happy child would have
    Beneath so fair a thing!
    A centre of the dear blue sky,
    A bordering of green,
    With patches of the yellow sun
    All chequered in between.
    Bright ribbons of the silky grass
    Laced prettily across,
    With satin of new little leaves,
    And velvet of the moss.
    In every corner, violets,
    Half-hidden from the view,
    With many-flowered squares betwixt,
    Of pinky tints and blue..
    Embroideries of little vines,
    And spider-webs of lace...
    With gold-thread I would sew the seams,
    And needles of the pine;
    Oh, never child in all the world
    Would have a quilt like mine!

    ***

    Wisteria trellis--
    behind it, in the light
    wildflowers

    -- Issa

    ***
    Wisteria plumes
    sweep the earth, and soon
    the rains will fall

    -- Shiki

    ***

    Come, let us plant a tree,
    Tenderly, lovingly,
    Some heart to cheer.
    Long may its branches sway
    Shelter sweet birds alway,
    Long may its blossoms say
    'Springtide is here.'

    – Anonymous

    ***

    Arbor Day, by Annette Wynne

    On Arbor Day
    We think of birds and greening trees,
    Of meadowlands and humming bees,
    Of orchards far from crowded town,
    Of heights where streams go tumbling down,
    Wee mountain rills that sing and play—
    On Arbor Day.

    Of how the tree tops coax the rain
    From flying clouds till hill and plain
    Are clean and fresh from sea to sea;
    We plant a seed; a tiny tree
    Wakes up and throws aside the clod,
    And stretches for the climb toward God—
    We sing a song for the joy of May—
    On Arbor Day.

    ***

    The Polliwog by Arthur Guiterman
    Oh, the polliwog is woggling
    In his pleasant native bog
    With his beady eyes a-goggling
    Through the underwater fog
    And his busy tail a-joggling
    And his eager ahead agog
    Just a happy little frogling
    Who is bound to be a frog

    ***

    May is Pretty, May is Mild by Annette Wynne
    May is pretty, May is mild,
    Dances like a happy child;
    Sing out, robin; spring out, flowers;
    April went with all her showers,
    And the world is green again;
    Come out, children, to the glen,
    To the meadows, to the wood,
    For the earth is clean and good,
    And the sky is clear and blue,
    And bright May is calling you!
    May is pretty, May is mild,
    Dances like a happy child,
    On a blessèd holiday,
    Come out, children, join the play!

    ***

    Even while yawning
    she keeps the tune...
    tea picking
    -- Issa

    ***

    Spring Fever, by Charles Andrews Heath

    When a feller feels a longing
    For the medder in his breast.
    When the robins north are thronging,
    Where they haste to build their nest.
    When the frogs peep in the puddle
    Where I love to hear them sing,
    Then my brain is in a muddle,
    For I know it's really spring.

    When the double windows smother
    Us until we want more air;
    When a protest comes and mother
    Can't endure them longer there;
    When we ope the cellar shutters,
    Kitchen doors are on the swing,
    Clean the cisterns, fix the gutters―
    Then I know it’s truly spring.

    ***

    Wisteria dangles
    to its heart's content...
    fresh green leaves

    -- Issa

    ***

    Wind on the greenery--
    coming to see my house
    the morning sun

    -- Issa

    ***

    Voices of the Earth, by Archibald Lampman

    We have not heard the music of the spheres,
    The song of star to star, but there are sounds
    More deep than human joy and human tears,
    That Nature uses in her common rounds;
    The fall of streams, the cry of winds that strain
    The oak, the roaring of the sea’s surge,
    Might of thunder breaking afar off, or rain
    That falls by minutes in the summer night.
    These are the voices of earth’s secret soul,
    Uttering the mystery from which she came.
    To him who hears them grief beyond control,
    Or joy inscrutable without a name,
    Wakes in his heart thoughts bedded there, impearled,
    Before the birth and making of the world.

    Music Heard in this Episode

    • Nomadic by Pictures of the Floating World

    • Piano concerto, No. 1, 3rd movement by Franz Liszt

    • Fantasia No. 8 by Georg Philipp Telemann performed by David Hernando Vitores

    • Wisteria by the Blue Dot Sessions

    • Grand Duo Cocertant for clarinet and piano, Allegro by Weber

    • Frog Legs Rag by James Scott

    • Lark in the Morning by The Atholl Highlanders

    • Fomalhaut by Pictures of the Floating World

    • Merry-go-round by Howie and Ann Mitchell

    • Mono shino sora e by Mekoisu

    • Julian’s Song by John Pickens

    • Orecchio di Dioniso by Sergi Boal

    • Piano Sonato No. 4 op. 7, 1, Allegro molto e con brio by Ludwig van Beethoven

    • Sonata No. 15 in D Major, Op 28 “pastorale” I. allegro by Ludwig van Beethoven

    Eating Wild Japan

    About the book:
    From bracken to butterbur to "princess" bamboo, some of Japan's most iconic foods are foraged, not grown, in its forests, fields, and coastal waters--yet most Westerners have never heard of them.
    In this book, journalist Winifred Bird eats her way from one end of the country to the other in search of the hidden stories of Japan's wild foods, the people who pick them, and the places whose histories they've shaped.
    "A beautiful and thoughtful exploration of the deep relationship--past and present--between people and wild plants in one of the world's richest foraging regions."--Samuel Thayer, author of Incredible Wild Edibles and The Forager's Harvest

    Purchase Eating Wild Japan

    About Winifred Bird:
    Winifred Bird is a writer, translator, lifelong cook, and lover of plants both wild and domesticated. For almost a decade she lived in rural Japan, where she worked as an environmental journalist, grew organic rice and vegetables, and ate as many foraged foods as possible. She currently lives with her family in northern Illinois. Paul Poynter (illustrations) is an artist, tree climber, and woodsman living in Matsumoto, Japan.

    Visual Examples of Seasonal Words

    Warabi (Sansai)
    Warabi (Sansai) Flowering Dogwood
    Flowering Dogwood Polliwogs
    Polliwogs May Day
    May Day Wisteria
    Wisteria Tea Picking
    Tea Picking Wisteria Trellis
    Wisteria Trellis Spring Naps
    Spring Naps

    Wintering Insects Awake Mar 06, 2021
    Show notes

    March 5 -20In this invigorating episode, "Wintering Insects Awake," Alexis and Kit are swept away by March winds to the mountains and the seaside as they traverse this season of awakenings. Our co-hosts reflect on a year of Season by Season, while looking forward to the seasons still to come. In Hiro's Corner, a trio of fragrant plants are on the menu: ninniku, nira, and nobiru.Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify. Wintering Insects Awake Alexis & Kit Wintering Insects AwakeSpotify Companion Playlist Poems Featured in this EpisodeTo March by Emily DickinsonDear March, come in!How glad I am!I looked for you before.Put down your hat —You must have walked —How out of breath you are!Dear March, how are you?And the rest?Did you leave Nature well?Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,I have so much to tell!I got your letter, and the birds’;The maples never knewThat you were coming, — I declare,How red their faces grew!But, March, forgive me —And all those hillsYou left for me to hue;There was no purple suitable,You took it all with you.Who knocks? That April!Lock the door!I will not be pursued!He stayed away a year, to callWhen I am occupied.But trifles look so trivialAs soon as you have come,That blame is just as dear as praiseAnd praise as mere as blame.***March Poem by William Cullent Bryant The stormy March is come at last,With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,I hear the rushing of the blast,That through the snowy valley flies.Ah, passing few are they who speak,Wild stormy month! in praise of thee;Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak,Thou art a welcome month to me.For thou, to northern lands, againThe glad and glorious sun dost bring,And thou hast joined the gentle trainAnd wear'st the gentle name of Spring.And, in thy reign of blast and storm,Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day,When the changed winds are soft and warm,And heaven puts on the blue of May.***The Mountains in March by Ada A. MosherHark, how in impotent rage old EuroclydonScourges the bare-shouldered mountains to-night!While their low laughter doth answer to mock the oneWielding the lash that the lash is so light.Laugh they as laughed in his slumber old Ymir,When the great Norse giant's ponderous maceSmote his bare forehead, low muttered the dreamer,"Breezes must blow, I feel leaves on my face."So these grim giants that, hoary and battle-proof,Guard this old pass, spurn Euroclydon's guage;Laugh him to scorn while his anger doth but behoofSport for these warriors who mock at his rage.Loose are his storm-steeds; the snap of his lariatMaddens to fury the pulse of their speed;Down the deep gorges on thunders his chariotHot in pursuit of each mane-tossing steed.***Quarreling water flows down The laughing mountains — Katsuo Sekimori***The sound of wings flappingAs they return to the skyLaughing mountain— Akira Horimai***The old shoji screensOpen to let in the lightOn the day the mountain laughs— Nojimia Shijin***Unveiled by Jessie Belle RittenhouseTo-day the hills put off their hazeAnd stand so green and clearThat every peak remote and strangeIs intimate and near.I can make out the very treesThat mass upon their sides,And look deep into the white cloudThat swift above them rides.But, oh, I would not have them standUnveiled by blowing air;Give me the blue, blue mists againThat make them far and fair!***Through clouds of spring mudThe mountain road— Nishijima Bakunan***The sun setsAnd the puddles of spring mudTurn gold— Ryōtei Fukuda***Splashingin the spring mudYou forget your age— Kimiko Kato ***Above ground and below groundthe air is ready for insects to stir.— Ishii Rogetsu ***The insects are astirin the gardenas I'm sweeping— Shimada Shige***wake up! wake up!and become my friendyou sleeping butterfly — Basho ***the dandelionsometimes wakes the butterfly from its dream— Chiyo-jo*** in my gardenthe flowering dandelionshave a feeling for poetry . . .— Masaoka Shiki ***First Dandelion by Walt WhitmanSimple and fresh and fair from winter's close emerging,As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been,Forth from its sunny nook of shelter'd grass—innocent, golden, calm as the dawn,The spring's first dandelion shows its trustful face. ***Excerpt from "Queen Mab," by Percy Bysshe ShelleyThough storms may break the primrose on its stalk,Though frosts may blight the freshness of its bloom,Yet Spring’s awakening breath will woo the earth,To feed with kindliest dews its favourite flower,That blooms in mossy banks and darksome glens,Lighting the greenwood with its sunny smile.*** everything I pick upis alive -- ebb-tide— Chiyo-jo***firefly squid ...the Sea of Japan finally showswaves of springtime— Takaki Susu no Ie***A Light exists in SpringNot present on the YearAt any other period —When March is scarcely hereA Color stands abroadOn Solitary FieldsThat Science cannot overtakeBut Human Nature feels.It waits upon the Lawn,It shows the furthest TreeUpon the furthest Slope you knowIt almost speaks to you.Then as Horizons stepOr Noons report awayWithout the Formula of soundIt passes and we stay —A quality of lossAffecting our ContentAs Trade had suddenly encroachedUpon a Sacrament.— Emily Dickinson*** The Rainbow by Walter de la MareI saw the lovely archOf Rainbow span the sky,The gold sun burningAs the rain swept by.In bright-ringed solitudeThe showery foliage shoneOne lovely moment,And the Bow was gone.***The Rainbow (excerpt) by Felicia HemansE'en now full many a blossom's bellWith fragrance fills the shade;And verdure clothes each grassy dell,In brighter tints arrayed.But mark! what arch of varied hueFrom heaven to earth is bowed?Haste, ere it vanish, haste to viewThe Rainbow in the cloud.How bright its glory! there beholdThe emerald's verdant rays,The topaz blends its hue of goldWith the deep ruby's blaze.*** St. Patrick’s Day (excerpt) by Jean BlewettThere’s an Isle, a green Isle, set in the sea,Here’s to the Saint that blessed it!And here’s to the billows wild and freeThat for centuries have caressed it! A Seasonal Recipe: Chocolate Guinness Cake RecipeFor the cake:Butter for pan1 cup Guinness stout10 tablespoons (1 stick plus 2 tablespoons) unsalted butter¾ cup unsweetened cocoa2 cups superfine sugar¾ cup sour cream2 large eggs1 tablespoon vanilla extract2 cups all-purpose flour2 ½ teaspoons baking sodaFor the topping:1 ¼ cups confectioners' sugar8 ounces cream cheese at room temperature½ cup heavy creamsplash of Bailey's (optional, to taste)PreparationFor the cake: heat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch springform pan and line with parchment paper. In a large saucepan, combine Guinness and butter. Place over medium-low heat until butter melts, then remove from heat. Add cocoa and superfine sugar, and whisk to blend.In a small bowl, combine sour cream, eggs and vanilla; mix well. Add to Guinness mixture. Add flour and baking soda, and whisk again until smooth. Pour into buttered pan, and bake until risen and firm, 45 minutes to one hour. Place pan on a wire rack and cool completely in pan.For the topping: Using a food processor or by hand, mix confectioners' sugar to break up lumps. Add cream cheese and blend until smooth. Add heavy cream, and mix until smooth and spreadable.Remove cake from pan and place on a platter or cake stand. Ice top of cake only, so that it resembles a frothy pint of Guinness. Music Featured in this Episode Haru no Umi Redux by James Schlefer and Kenneth WoodsBWV 998 II Fugue, Johann Sebastian BachThe Wind by KumikuSymphony No. 1 by Gustav MahlerQuintet for Piano and Winds by Wolfgang Amadeus MozartGarden Tiger by Pictures of the Floating WorldSpring by Allister Thompson and Philippa DowdingConstellations by Siddhartha CorsusEmpire of Light by Siddhartha CorsusLute Concerto in D Major by Antonio VivaldiVisual Examples of Seasonal Words Yamawarau / Laughing Mountains Spring mists Dandelion Cowslip primrose Clam digging Spring Sea Hatsucho / First butterfly Rainbow Garlic Nira Nira Nobiru Spring mud

    Full show notes at the publisher

    The Beginning of Spring Feb 07, 2021
    Show notes

    February 4 - 20

    In this hopeful episode, "The Beginning of Spring," Alexis and Kit notice signs of winter's end among the scents of the trees, the songs of birds, and a special, perhaps romantic, feeling in the air. Hiro's Corner takes a look at a boggy perennial.

    The Beginning of Spring Alexis & Kit

    Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.

    Beginning of Spring
    Spotify Companion Playlist

    Poems featured in this episode:

    Hope by E. (Edith) Nesbit

    O thrush, is it true?
    Your song tells
    Of a world born anew,
    Of fields gold with buttercups, woodlands all blue
    With hyacinth bells;
    Of primroses deep
    In the moss of the lane,
    Of a Princess asleep
    And dear magic to do.
    Will the sun wake the princess? O thrush, is it true?
    Will Spring come again?

    Will Spring come again?
    Now at last
    With soft shine and rain
    Will the violet be sweet where the dead leaves have lain?
    Will Winter be past?
    In the brown of the copse
    Will white wind-flowers star through
    Where the last oak-leaf drops?
    Will the daisies come too,
    And the may and the lilac? Will Spring come again?
    O thrush, is it true?


    ***
    More than shadow
    Is the wind
    Returning cold

    — Teiko Inahata

    ***
    The return of cold
    Then the return of cold again
    Springtime

    — Nishiyama Hakun

    ***
    Two hoes hang on the wall
    Shallow Spring
    — Murakami Kijo

    ***
    Shallow Spring is coming
    And already I'm in the garden
    — Sekitei Hara

    ***

    He Knows No Winter by Sudie Stuart Hager
    He knows no winter, he who loves the soil,
    For, stormy days, when he is free from toil,
    He plans his summer crops, selects his seeds
    From bright-paged catalogues for garden needs.
    When looking out upon frost-silvered fields,
    He visualizes autumn's golden yields;
    He sees in snow and sleet and icy rain
    Precious moisture for his early grain;
    He hears spring-heralds in the storm's turmoil­
    He knows no winter, he who loves the soil.

    ***

    As evening deepens
    The scent of burning fields
    Rises in the air
    — Inahata Teiko
    ***
    The morning’s blue sky of Aso
    Eagerly await
    The burning fields
    - Matuso Basho

    ***
    February by Jane [Goodwin] Austin

    I thought the world was cold in death;
    The flowers, the birds, all life was gone,
    For January's bitter breath
    Had slain the bloom and hushed the song.
    And still the earth is cold and white,
    And mead and forest yet are bare;
    But there's a something in the light
    That says the germ of life is there.

    ***

    Evening In A Sugar Orchard by Robert Frost
    From where I lingered in a lull in march
    outside the sugar-house one night for choice,
    I called the fireman with a careful voice
    And bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch:
    'O fireman, give the fire another stoke,
    And send more sparks up chimney with the smoke.'
    I thought a few might tangle, as they did,
    Among bare maple boughs, and in the rare
    Hill atmosphere not cease to glow,
    And so be added to the moon up there.
    The moon, though slight, was moon enough to show
    On every tree a bucket with a lid,
    And on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow.
    The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
    They were content to figure in the trees
    As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
    And that was what the boughs were full of soon.

    ***

    If not for the call
    of the bush warbler coming
    out of the valley,
    who then would be aware of
    the arrival of springtime?

    — Ôe no Chisato, from the Kokinshū

    ***

    Singing practice
    every morning
    with the warbler

    — Issa
    ***

    Even the warbler’s voice
    gets hoarse -
    snow still on Fuji

    — Chiyo-jo

    ***

    The warbler
    has been perching on that plum-tree
    for all eternity

    — Onitsura

    ***
    A warbler sings so sweet…
    and by the eaves…
    plum blossoms

    — Buson

    ***

    When the east wind blows,
    Send me your perfume,
    Blossoms of
    the plum:
    Though your lord be absent,
    Forget not the spring.

    — Sugawara Michizane

    ***
    As on the plum comes
    blossom after blossom, so
    comes the warmth of spring.

    — Ransetsu

    ***
    All the snow melts --
    everywhere the fragrance
    of wild plum blossoms

    — Tagami Kikusha

    ***

    When everything has faded they alone shine forth,
    encroaching on the charms of smaller gardens.
    Their scattered shadows fall lightly on clear water,
    their subtle scent pervades the moonlit dusk.

    — Lin Bu

    ***

    Lover cat
    as a cat in love
    has its own way

    — Nagata Koui

    ***

    While hitting
    the heads of dandelions
    cats in love

    — Issa

    ***

    Love drunk
    Chasing after a chicken
    A male cat

    — Issa
    ***

    Plum blossom scent
    sends him off carousing...
    lazy cat

    — Issa

    ***

    Cats in love
    when they stop in my bedroom
    a hazy moon

    — Basho

    ***

    Hearts Were Made to Give Away by Annette Wynne

    Hearts were made to give away
    On Valentine's good day;
    Wrap them up in dainty white,
    Send them off the thirteenth night.
    Any kind of heart that's handy—
    Hearts of lace, and hearts of candy,
    Hearts all trimmed with ribbands fine
    Send for good St. Valentine.
    Hearts were made to give away
    On Valentine's dear day.

    ***

    1886 ST. VALENTINE'S DAY By Christina Rossetti

    Winter's latest snowflake is the snowdrop flower,
    Yellow crocus kindles the first flame of the Spring,
    At that time appointed, at that day and hour
    When life reawakens and hope in everything.
    Such a tender snowflake in the wintry weather,
    Such a feeble flamelet for chilled St. Valentine,--
    But blest be any weather which finds us still together,
    My pleasure and my treasure O blessed Mother mine.

    ***

    Pancakes by Christina Rossetti

    Mix a pancake,
    Stir a pancake,
    Pop it in the pan;
    Fry the pancake,
    Toss the pancake—
    Catch it if you can.

    ***

    Another year is gone with the sound of the firecrackers.
    Spring is coming, we can feel the warm wind. It is time to drink the tu su wine.
    On this bright new year’s day, thousands of families are busy.
    Every family is busy with changing the old scrolls and putting up the new ones.

    — Wang Anshi, Song Dynasty

    A Seasonal Recipe: Chocolate Pancakes

    Via Pretty. Simple. Sweet. Visit their website for more information and tips and tricks!

    Ingredients

    Pancakes

    • 1 1/3 cups (185g) all-purpose flour

    • 1/4 cup (25g) cocoa powder (I use Dutch-processed)

    • 2 teaspoons baking powder

    • 1/4 teaspoon salt

    • 2 eggs

    • 1/3 cup (65g) granulated sugar

    • 1 cup (240 ml) whole milk

    • 3 tablespoons canola or vegetable oil (or 45g melted butter)

    • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

    • 1/2 cup (85g) chocolate chips or chunks

    • butter or oil , for cooking

    Chocolate Ganache Sauce

    • 140 g (5 oz.) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate

    • 1/2 cup (120 ml) heavy cream

    Instructions

    1. In a large bowl, sift together flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt (or whisk well with a whisk). Set aside.

    2. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together egg and sugar until well combined. Add milk, oil (or melted butter), and vanilla extract. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir just until combined and moistened. Do not over mix. Mix in chocolate chips or chunks. Set batter aside and make the chocolate sauce.

    3. Chocolate sauce: In a medium heatproof bowl, combine chocolate and heavy cream. Microwave in 20- to 30-second increments, mixing in between, until chocolate is melted and mixture is smooth. Set aside while making the pancakes. I like to pour it over the pancakes while it’s warm.

    4. Cook the pancakes: Heat a griddle or skillet over medium heat. Coat with butter or oil. For each pancake, drop 1/4 cup of batter onto skillet. Cook 1-2 minutes, until surface of pancakes have some bubbles and the bottom appears to be done. Flip carefully and cook another 1-2 minutes. Transfer to a plate and if you want you can cover the plate loosely with aluminum foil to keep warm. Coat the skillet with butter or oil before every pancake or batch of pancakes to prevent sticking.

    5. Serve immediately with chocolate sauce (rewarm sauce in the microwave for a few seconds if needed).

    Visual Examples of Seasonal Words

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    Early Cold Jan 07, 2021
    Show notes

    January 5 - 20

    In the first Season by Season episode of the New Year, Alexis and Kit prepare for the upcoming year while discussing the season of keeping resolutions, visits from snow crows, windy winter weather, and early growing plants that herald the coming spring. Hiro's Corner takes a closer look at the Japanese calendar and the naming of the month of January.

    Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.

    Early Cold Alexis & Kit

    Early Cold
    Spotify Companion Playlist

    Poems featured in this episode:

    January, by Winifred C. Marshall

    Little January
    Tapped at my door today.
    And said, "Put on your winter wraps,
    And come outdoors to play."
    Little January
    Is always full of fun;
    Until the set of sun.
    Little January
    Will stay a month with me
    And we will have such jolly times -
    Just come along and see.

    ***
    The old calendar
    Fills me with gratitude
    Like a sutra

    - Yosa Buson

    ***

    First calendar sheet -
    When I turn it I almost feel
    The globe has moved

    - Yaki Tsutomu

    ***

    New Year’s Resolutions (excerpt), by Rudyard Kipling

    I am resolved throughout the year
    To lay my vices on the shelf;
    A godly, sober course to steer
    And love my neighbors as myself—
    Excepting always two or three
    Whom I detest as they hate me.
    I am resolved—that vows like these,
    Though lightly made, are hard to keep;
    Wherefore I’ll take them by degrees,
    Lest my back-slidings make me weep.

    ***

    I went to the mountain
    And found the fires burning
    After the Coming of Age festival

    — Koji Yoshida

    ***
    On Coming of Age Day
    The snow storm, too
    Celebrates
    — Kaga Hosokawa

    ***
    Static electricity from my sweater
    Coming of Age Day
    Is here
    — Keiichi Makino

    ***

    Plough the land, plough the land;
    Hold the handles with each hand;
    Furrows keep straight and deep,
    Firm and steady stand.
    Quickly turn around we may,
    Ploughing back the other way;
    Plough the land, plough the land—
    Farmers understand.

    ***

    Snow by Adelaide Crapsey

    Look up…
    From bleakening hills
    Blows down the light, first breath
    Of wintry wind…look up, and scent
    The snow!

    ***

    Ode to the East Wind by C. Kingsley

    “Welcome, wild nor-easter
    Shame it is to see
    Odes to every zephyr
    Ne’er a verse to thee.

    Welcome, black Nor-easer
    Over the German foam
    Over the Danish moorland
    From thy frozen home

    Sweep the golden reed-beds
    Crisp the lazy dyke
    Hunger into madness
    Every plunging pike.

    Through the black fir-forest
    Thunder harsh and dry,
    Shattering down the snow-flakes
    Off the curdled sky

    ***

    Gently Falling by Emma Louise Clapp
    Softly from the sky is falling
    Snowflakes white as lilies fair;
    Gently to each other calling
    As they float down through the air.
    Softly, softly, oh so softly!
    Do they come from dizzy heights;
    Gently, gently, oh, so gently!
    Do they lay a blanket white.
    Over all the many housetops,
    Over shrubs and tall, tall trees,
    Over hills and field and meadows,
    Hiding stones and restless leaves.

    ***

    When Days Are Crisp and Bright by Annette Wynne

    When days are crisp and bright
    And flakes are downward hurled,
    O, to wake up in the light
    And find a white, white world!
    O, to look out all around
    On fence, and bush, and hill,
    And see the snow piled on the ground
    And on the window sill!
    It's hard to sit in school all day
    And work and study hard,
    'Twould be such fun to go and play
    At soldiers in the yard.
    And build a fort just like the one
    The picture has with flag unfurled;
    The summer's good, but O, the fun
    To have a white, white world!

    ***

    “A Year’s Windfalls” by Christina Rosetti (excerpt)

    On the wind of January
    Down flits the snow,
    Travelling from the frozen North
    As cold as it can blow.
    Poor robin redbreast,
    Look where he comes;
    Let him in to feel your fire,
    And toss him of your crumbs.

    ***

    A crow
    Which I'd usually hate
    So beautiful in morning snow.

    — Basho

    ***

    Pounding the seven herbs
    Doesn't drown him out...
    Crow

    — Issa

    ***

    Shepherd’s Purse by Cecily Mary Barker

    Though I’m poor to human eyes
    Really I am rich and wise.
    Every tiny flower I shed
    Leaves a heart-shaped purse instead.
    In each purse is wealth indeed—
    Every coin a living seed.
    Sow the seed upon the earth—
    Living plants shall spring to birth.
    Silly people’s purses hold
    Lifeless silver, clinking gold;
    But you cannot grow a pound
    From a farthing in the ground.
    Money may become a curse:
    Give me then my Shepherd’s Purse.

    ***

    To a Snowdrop, by William Wordsworth

    Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they
    But hardier far, once more I see thee bend
    Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,
    Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,
    Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay
    The rising sun, and on the plains descend;
    Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend
    Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May
    Shall soon behold this border thickly set
    With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing
    On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;
    Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
    Chaste Snowdrop, venturous harbinger of Spring,
    And pensive monitor of fleeting years!

    Music Featured in this Podcast

    Béla Bartók - Romanian Folk Dances
    Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Marriage of Figaro Overture
    Johann Sebastian Bach - Pythagorean Tuning, Prelude 1
    Lobo Loco - Dear Happy New Year
    Claude Debussy - Toccata for Piano
    Gabriel Faure - Fantasie
    Franz Schubert - Octet No. 2
    Unheard Music Concepts - Dakota
    Robert Schumann - A Tale of Distant Lands
    Johann Strauss II - Tales from the Vienna Woods

    Visual Examples of Seasonal Words

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    Heavy Snow Dec 07, 2020
    Show notes

    December 6 - 20

    This episode of Season by Season finds Kit and Alexis preparing for the darkening days of winter. Together they discuss cold weather and snow, are cheered by winter birdsong, and find light and warmth in friendship during this merry season. Hiro's Corner explores the snowy landscapes that shape our artistic ideas of wintertime.

    Heavy Snow Alexis & Kit

    Listen and subscribe on Stitcher,Apple, and Spotify.

    Heavy Snow
    Spotify Companion Playlist

    Poems featured in this episode:

    A December Day, by Sara Teasdale


    Dawn turned on her purple pillow— And late, late came the winter day,
    Snow was curved to the boughs of the willow.
    — The sunless world was white and grey.

    At noon we heard a blue-jay scolding,
    — At five the last thin light was lost
    From snow-banked windows faintly holding
    — The feathery filigree of frost.

    ***

    It Snows, by Hannah Flagg Gould

    It snows! it snows! from out the sky
    The feathered flakes, how fast they fly,
    Like little birds, that don't know why
    They're on the chase, from place to place,
    While neither can the other trace.
    It snows! it snows! a merry play
    Is o'er us, on this heavy day!

    To-morrow will the storm be done;
    Then, out will come the golden sun:
    And we shall see, upon the run
    Before his beams, in sparkling streams,
    What now a curtain o'er him seems.
    And thus, with life, it ever goes;
    'T is shade and shine!—It snows! it snows!

    ***

    I Heard a Bird Sing, by Oliver Herford

    I heard a bird sing
    In the dark of December
    A magical thing
    And sweet to remember.


    'We are nearer to Spring
    Than we were in September,'
    I heard a bird sing
    In the dark of December."

    ***

    The Cardinal, by Alice E. Ball

    When autumn woods are bare and dead,
    A crested bird, of cardinal red,
    Sways like an oak-leaf overhead;
    And sighs, "Drear! drear! Drear!"

    When winter woods are white with snow,
    And drifts pile high as wild winds blow,
    Like flame this torchlike bird doth glow;
    And cries, "Whew! whew! whew!"

    ***

    Do all the birds
    To the southlands go?
    No!
    No!
    Oh, no!
    Chickadee,
    Sparrow,
    Bunting,
    Crow
    Care not a whit
    When the wild winds blow.
    They care not a whit,
    They’re sad not a bit,
    They think naught of it,
    When the wild winds blow.

    (Anon.)

    ***

    Winterberry branch
    Calls winter birds for breakfast
    I will feed you now

    — Amy Ludwig VanDerwater
    ***

    the wren wishes to be in the snow not the blossoms

    — Chiyo-jo

    ***

    Dust of Snow, by Robert Frost

    The way a crow
    Shook down on me
    The dust of snow
    From a hemlock tree
    Has given my heart
    A change of mood
    And saved some part
    Of a day I had rued.

    ***
    Excerpt from Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott:

    ...Mrs. March got her wet things off, her warm slippers on, and sitting down in the easy chair, drew Amy to her lap, preparing to enjoy the happiest hour of her busy day. The girls flew about, trying to make things comfortable, each in her own way. Meg arranged the tea table, Jo brought wood and set chairs, dropping, over–turning, and clattering everything she touched. Beth trotted to and fro between parlor and kitchen, quiet and busy, while Amy gave directions to everyone, as she sat with her hands folded.
    ***

    There’s rosemary and rue. These keep
    Seeming and savor all the winter long.
    Grace and remembrance be to you.

    - William Shakespeare (Winter’s Tale, Act 4, Scene 4)

    ***
    There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love,
    remember. And there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.

    -William Shakespeare (Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 5)

    ***

    The Christmas Holly by Eliza Cook

    The holly! the holly! oh, twine it with bay—
    Come give the holly a song;
    For it helps to drive stern winter away,
    With his garment so sombre and long.
    It peeps through the trees with its berries of red,
    And its leaves of burnish’d green,
    When the flowers and fruits have long been dead,
    And not even the daisy is seen,
    Then sing to the holly, the Christmas holly,
    That hangs over peasant and king:
    While we laugh and carouse ’neath its glitt’ring boughs,
    To the Christmas holly we’ll sing.

    ***

    People, Look East, by Eleanor Farjeon
    People, look east. The time is near
    Of the crowning of the year.
    Make your house fair as you are able,
    Trim the hearth and set the table.
    People, look east and sing today:
    Love, the guest, is on the way.

    ***

    From "The Shortest Day," by Susan Cooper

    “So the shortest day came, and the year died,
    And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
    Came people singing, dancing,
    To drive the dark away.”

    ***

    Night walks with a heavy step
    Round yard and hearth,
    As the sun departs from earth,
    Shadows are brooding.
    There in our dark house,
    Walking with lit candles,
    Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

    Night walks grand, yet silent,
    Now hear its gentle wings,
    In every room so hushed,
    Whispering like wings.
    Look, at our threshold stands,
    White-clad with light in her hair,
    Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

    Darkness shall take flight soon,
    From earth's valleys.
    So she speaks
    Wonderful words to us:
    A new day will rise again
    From the rosy sky…
    Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

    ***

    The Feast of Lights, by Emma Lazarus

    Kindle the taper like the steadfast star
    Ablaze on evening's forehead o'er the earth,
    And add each night a lustre till afar
    An eightfold splendor shine above thy hearth.
    Clash, Israel, the cymbals, touch the lyre,
    Blow the brass trumpet and the harsh-tongued horn;
    Chant psalms of victory till the heart takes fire,
    The Maccabean spirit leap new-born.

    ***
    In the Window

    In the window where you can see the glow of
    my menorah on newly fallen snow,
    I will set you one little candle on this, the first night of Hanukkah.

    St. Lucia Day Buns

    1/3 cup milk
    1/4 cup butter
    1/4 lukewarm water
    1 package dry yeast
    1/4 cup sugar
    1 egg
    1/2 teaspoon salt
    1/4 teaspoon saffron
    2 3/4 cups flour
    1 tablespoon cooking oil
    1 egg
    1 tablespoon water
    24 raisins (currants)
    1. Warm the milk in the small saucepan over low heat. Cut the butter into small pieces. Add the butter pieces to the warm milk and stir, then turn off the heat.
    2. Measure the lukewarm water into the large mixing bowl. Sprinkle the yeast over the water. Stir well. Set the bowl aside for 5 minutes.
    3. Add the warm milk and melted butter to the saffron. Stir in the sugar, egg, salt and saffron. Then add 1 1/2 cups flour and stir until smooth.
    4. Add enough of the remaining flour so that you can shape the dough into a ball. Save some of the remaining flour for kneading the dough.
    5. Put the dough on the floured cutting board. Dust your hands with flour and knead the dough. Add flour when the dough gets sticky.
    6. After 5 to 10 minutes of kneading, you will have a smooth ball of dough. It should spring back when you poke it with your finger. Cover the dough with the towel and let it rest while you wash and dry the mixing bowl.
    7. Spread cooking oil in the large bowl. Roll the dough in the oil until it is coated. Cover the bowl with the towel and set in a warm place to rise. After 45 minutes, the dough should be twice as large. If not, check it again in 15 minutes.
    8. Punch down the dough. Then divide it into 6 sections. Take one section and divide it in half. Roll each half into an 8 inch rope. Cross the two ropes in the middle. Then coil the ends in tight circles. Shape 5 more buns in the same way.
    9. Place the buns 2 inches apart on a greased cookie sheet. Cover with the towel. Let the buns rise for 30 to 45 minutes until they double in size. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees while they are rising.
    10. Mix the egg and water with the fork in the small bowl. Brush this mixture lightly over the top of each bun. Decorate the buns with raisins.
    11. Bake the buns for 15 to 20 minutes. When the buns are golden brown, move them to the wire rack to cool.

    Serve with coffee and enjoy!

    Music Featured in this Podcast

    • Snow Day by Pictures of a Floating World

    • Mo-Oz-Tzur by Glenn Tompkins (with permission)

    • O Frondens by Hildegard of Bingen Peace Christmas by Lobo Loco

    • Deck the Halls by USAFB Concert Band

    • Sonata No. 8 by Ludwig Van Beethoven performed by Daniel Veesey

    • Wind Quintet Op. 78 by August Klughart

    • Violincello and Orchestra in B Minor by Antonin Dvorak

    • Flute Concerto in G Major by Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach

    • Scherzo by Goens performed by John Michel

    Visual Examples of Seasonal Words

    photo-1510749316120-636d1ca57df5.jpg
    0a41a6f7ca155ee55f9fbe8b5a637fd2.jpg
    1200px-Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder_-_Hunters_in_the_Snow_(Winter)_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg

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