Her real name is Marigold. Youngish and still a bit skittish with strangers, our new Gran-pup came to visit with her mom and dad. Marigold was rescued a few months ago and then adopted into the family a few weeks ago. This is her first visit and we found her to be a lovely houseguest, quiet and polite. Isn’t she lovely? The sound of her nails on the floors brought back so many memories of our Ada and the silence when she had gone was loud.
August days bring parties and birthdays and here in the “land of pleasant living”, steamed blue crabs covered in seasoning are on the table. Smiles are on faces and warm memories are being made. I hope you are enjoying these last warm days of summer!
Cleome – I first met this flower in my sister’s garden. Its prickly stems made me take a step back and only admire them there.
Fast forward to these fighting-the-deer-in-the-gardens years and a friend offered seedlings with the words, “The deer don’t eat them.” Suddenly spiny stems were appealing and I gratefully planted them.
I love the airy beauty and amazingly complex flowers that bloom through the long summer and fall days. I love that they are at home here and freely reseed. I love seeing them from the swing and I smile as they glow pin and lavender and white in the ever changing light of day.
I’ve learned they have common names like Spider Flower, Spider Legs, or Grandfather’s Whiskers.
I thought I would include an update on the resident deer family who love fresh rain drenched hydrangea with tomato, pepper, and sunflower salad – they pick their own!
Background sounds change through the day. Cicadas of kinds must dwell in the woodlands around us. I understand that the night chorus belongs to the katydids and crickets. Creating a kind of white noise, they fill the hours with sound.
The other day, in the perpetual yard tidy, I glanced at the ground by a maple tree and bright green attracted my attention. Without thinking, I picked up this creature partly freed from its shell. When I felt the pulse of energy, I ran for the porch calling for my camera assistant.
He snapped away and I sat amazed, feeling the pulses of energy as it continued to push itself free.
It had a strange fishlike appearance and as the final pushes were coming, I placed it back at the base of a maple tree. Out, it began to crawl away from its former skin.
After our quick supper, we returned to find the beautiful wings had unfolded and the new cicada was making its way up the trunk. We were thrilled to have this amazing experience!
The ocean sang from the cover of a book on the library table; I listened to it call my name and I hurried it away.
They usually file it in the children’s section where I might never look. Ocean Poems. Perfect for a summer day. So beautifully illustrated that I’m drawn into the words like listening to a shell held tight against my ear and I dream … … ocean roars
quiet swimming … … cool water and sand
Listen now from Water Sings Blue by Kate Coombs and hear the “Song of the Boat” …
Push away — heave-ho –from the heavy brown pier, from its pilings huddled and dull.
For the water sings blue and the sky does, too, and the sea lets you fly like a gull.
Now go and find a copy and sink into the illustrations of Meilo So and feel the ocean.