“The world is so full of a number of things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.”
Robert Louis Stevenson
I don’t know if many kings are happy but I was thrilled to find a Luna Moth – a bit bedraggled, but live as I cleaned up after yet another stormy night. The long tails on the hindwings have been lost but there is no mistaking the size and eyespots on the wings of this beautiful moth. I’ve learned that they lay their eggs on the bottom of black walnut leaves. There is an old back walnut tree across the road perhaps this lovely creature was born there.
I had the opportunity to visit this garden again the other day. Frog and I had another quiet visit as he continued his work.
The waters bubble and flow through a small waterfall to his pond. I love the serenity in this place, although perhaps it is not place exactly, but the intention to go and breathe deeply and just be present to the timeless wonder of plants and fish and sun in the summer breeze that brings tranquility. Do you see that bright green edge? Look deeply now… slide into the pool of green refreshment.
I love the light glowing through the daylilies, bringing the garden alive for the day. Every day fresh and new beckoning me to come and see.
She is such a good mama, I can tell by the way her children, twins, pay close attention. They scamper away when I come outside. And hide behind the tree while mama teaches them about blueberry foraging and the wonders of our yard.
Or they scamper and hide behind mama after a night of gluttony in the small vegetable garden, eating every tomato and pepper and munching the plants too, for salad.
Such a good mama to keep her children so well fed.
Seems like a stormy summer. Last evening’s was unusual to us with strong winds in the tree tops tearing them apart. The sky seemed eerie for a long time after the rain with an almost silvery look to it and then, the clouds faded away and the evening drama began.
Happy Independence Day, USA!
Hope you are celebrating with family or friends or even by yourself. Remember those who hoped great things, turned their backs on all that was familiar and came to this land bringing us to this day and place, home.
The day started too hot, too humid; the heavy still disturbed by cicadas calling.
A single blue hydrangea bloom glows; the extreme winter freeze caused the old blooming wood to die off many of the hydrangeas.
By 5 pm, darkness had closed in, then thunder rolled and crashed across the sky chasing lightening flashes. I count the seconds between, marking the distance. I remember my parents’ front porch on the house at the top of the hill where I’d stake claim to the chaise and watch the storms rolling in from the west streak the sky with jagged lights and feel the gratitude of rain laden breezes cooling hot skin on summer evenings.
So I went outside and sat under cover and listened, quieting myself. In the midst of the storm the hummingbird came and drank and sparrows flew in for dinner too. None seemed concerned by the din or rain. Their Father had provided bloom and feeder and with that they were content. I went in and cooked our simple meal, it was delicious.
The rain continues; the air, 20 degrees cooler, refreshes.
Some journeys are hard and it is easy to lose the way when winds blow fierce and rain and hail drive you to shelter. I’m still engaged with Bonnie’s book, Finding Spiritual Whitespace. I expect to be on this journey for a while.
I actually put it aside – a kind of running away from the storm – to read Mister Owita’s Guide to Gardening only to find connection in Carol Wall’s memoir too. Then I was back walking with Bonnie. During this month, I had some hard personal interactions that stole my words but reading on and being connected with others on the blog tour has been a great help.Bonnie asks in one prompt, “What feels comforting to you? List the things you like that bring your soul comfort. Uncover some whitespace by savoring one of these things this week, no matter how insignificant it feels.”
So I took myself to the library today; books have brought me comfort my whole life. I seemed always to be able to read I remember my brother letting me walk along to the library and then, no doubt, he carried some of my books home. What joy when they built the new library just two blocks from our home!
Now my library is about 10 miles from home. As I walked back through the parking lot, I stopped mid-stride puzzled as it seemed a red heart was waving at me from under a tree. By the time the books were stowed and the camera set, the light had changed a bit but here is my love note from Jesus to the little girl in me – “I see you, Elaine!”