LISTENING FOR SPRING

Chaco Listens For Spring
     It’s the week of resurrection, and freedom.  Passover and Easter, two spring rituals, recognize the importance of annual renewal after winter, the first speaking to the yearning for freedom, and the second speaking to our longing for connection beyond the earthly realm.       I’ve participated in both Seders and Easter Vigils, and appreciate the wisdom of each, but I also find a primary connection to both freedom and renewal from the birds.        Every year, at just around this time, a miracle occurs in the land around my house. The Redwinged blackbirds return to their summer home, and sing about it.      Because March is an interstitial month that might be snowy or rainy or both, I often mark their arrival as I stand in my yard with fat flakes of snow falling all around me, while the woods surrounding my house is filled with their song.   The sound is a cascade of silver light falling all around, a chorus of trills and small chimes as they gather to announce who they are and call for a mate.  For that time, I’m transported to other worlds, where anything is possible, because beauty on this level  creates a whole different universe of possibilities.       I stand under the snow and listen.   I listen.  I listen.       This is something Jaguar understands.  That the sacred is contained in something as simple as the song of the blackbird.   That transport is possible only when you listen.  Really listen.        This is something I understand as a writer, and a human.  That a good book is only possible when you listen.  Really listen.  That love is possible only when you listen, really listen.  That in the moment of internal stillness, when you’re open to what might be, answers creep toward you like spring, maybe not as fast as you’d like, but longing for you just as you long for them.        Whatever you celebrate this week, make it a point to get quiet and listen.  Really listen.  Somewhere in the world, at every moment, someone or some thing is making music, and you might just be ready to hear it.  

Blackbirds and Grackles Sing For Spring
         If you want to know more about Jaguar’s listening, check out Wildside Press’s ebooks, and trade paperbacks .  Soon, as spring arrives, A Strangled Cry of Fear will be released.  

REDWINGED CUPCAKES

    I wanted to make something as light as the song of the redwinged blackbird this week, and though I’m not a baker, I decided to listen to my muffin tin and try something new.   Here’s a recipe for cherry-ricotta filled cupcakes, with a peachy glaze.   

CUPCAKES
I followed the recipe for white cake in the Test Kitchen cookbook for my cupcakes.  You can use a cake mix, or another white cake/cupcake recipe of your preference.  
Whatever you choose, bake them up and let them cool.  Then, with a good sharp knife, cut a cone out of the center.  Or, you can use a small biscuit cutter to do the same.  
Keep the cone and slice out the middle, to form a cap you can put back on after the filling is in.  
FILLING
1/2 cup cherry preserves1/2 cup ricotta cheese, drained
(NOTE:  I’ve also been known to combine frozen blueberries and marscapone with some sugar for a filling, and that’s also great.  If you click your heels and wish for joy as you make it, it will attract bluebirds as well.  )
Blend the two together.  Really.  It’s as easy as waiting for spring.
Cupcake Singing in the Dead of NightUsing a spoon, a pastry bag, or a plastic bag with a hole cut in the corner, fill the cone in your cupcake with the yummy thing you made.   Put the cap back on top.   Say Yay!
FROSTING
1/4 cup frozen peaches1 cup Confectioner’s sugarWater to consistency of your liking
NOTE:  You can substitute blueberries, or frozen cherries for this because you know the rule:  PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!   
Put the peaches in the microwave for two minutes.  Toss them gleefully into a food processor with the confectioner’s sugar and about three tablespoons of water. 
Blend them up, and if you think it’s too runny add more sugar or peaches.  Too thick, add more water.  
Pour into a bowl and let it catch its breath.  Go listen to something or someone.  
When you come back, ice your cupcakes.  If you like, you can add a dollop of cherry preserves to the top, to match the flash of red on the blackbird’s wings.   
Share, share, share, and enjoy.