Everyone is a Writer, Family Writing Part 3
Rowena Cramer
Because my mother had eyes and ears alert to nature, I grew up aware that a first robin was an announcer of spring as were the crocus bulbs’ green shoots by the east side of the house. In her winding-down years, she made jottings of morning walks, in which I recognized with fresh insight her effect on my writing that draws from nature. My mother’s disaffection with flowers in one jotting at first surprised me—until I remembered that these written thoughts were private—but I learned from it. Her honesty about her feelings helped me as I now focus more on mine. Where she ends a poem with “author?”, I discovered that it was Ella Higginson, who in 1931 became the poet laureate of Washington State. That year my mother was in high school, where she took elocution lessons and gave poetry recitations. I can imagine “Four-Leaf Clover” as one of her dramatic choices.
May 3 – early morning walk – heard the church bells – a bobwhite – and saw an apple blossom – first one I’ve seen
6:30 a.m. May 4th – heard the staccato of the woodpecker this morning and saw the wake in the water of the two ducklings in the little pond as they swam around … flowering crab full bloom
May 7 also dogwood – the first real softening of New England
I haven’t hunted for a four-leaf clover lately & you know you don’t find one unless you hunt for one.
I know a place where the sun is like gold,
And the cherry blossoms burst with snow,
And down underneath is the loveliest nook,
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,
And one is for love, you know,
And God put another in for luck –
If you search, you will find where they grow.
But you must have hope, and you must have faith,
You must love and be strong – and so,
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
Author?*
Baltimore orioles passed through May 16th – always when the fuzz & early leaves are coming out.
Middle to end of May – a pause and a lull in flower arranging – tired of it at the moment – In fact sick to death of messing around with flowers –
[This continues from a preceding page lost to me]
scattered red berries – waiting for their big chance next Christmas when nothing is as elegant as the white pitcher full of fresh holly.
My realization is, “Like seeds, words are scattered. Years after hearing certain ones, we may find that they have put down roots in us resulting in a single statement of appreciation.”
* “Four Leaf Clover” was first published by West Shore Magazine in 1890. Ultimately it was Ella Higginson’s best-known work.)