There was a time when we were young...
She stared at nothing. It lasted forever, but in real time it was no
more than perhaps a minute. “There’s
another one!” he said excitedly, but when she hurried to look, there was only the
faint appearance of dusk as far as she could see from the front porch.
As it was each year, the
garden soon began to pulsate with twinkling stars of love-struck lightning bugs
emerging from the dampness of yesterday’s rain.
She could see them everywhere now.
One advance over the porch
rail and hovered eyeing her so inquisitively that she used her outstretched
palm as a landing pad, which it accepted for too brief of a moment before arising
and moving on to him, and then off into the garden once more.
“Isn’t it magic”, she said,
“how something so ordinary and hidden by day, will ascend when the light is
fading as if summoned by God’s angels to sooth the weary soul.” He said nothing. Dusk became deeper, and as it did the
twinkling became less until nothing at all.
She knew they were still
there, but they might as well have not been.
She would discover later that one was carried into the house clinging to
her shirt and would cause quite a commotion for a few minutes until she caught sight
of it and delivered it back outside.
He kissed her cheek and
disappeared into their house, as darkness washed out the dusk. Traffic in front of the house was thin, with
the occasional clank, clank as a car ran over the loose manhole cover. She could see where the full moon was beyond
the tall juniper tree. The light hung
there, suspended behind the veil of clouds that blanketed the sky.
She wondered if any
cockroaches were quietly summing her up for anything edible just as a loud
buzzing of tiny beetle wings zipped in from the garden and hit her smack in the
center of her forehead. It was as if twenty
hands were brushing all over her body to wipe all existence of anything bug
from her exterior, before she settled down in the darkness.
It was difficult vanquishing
all thoughts of bugs flying through the air.
but she kept working on it. The
cicadas had been quieted by dusk, and now a katydid presented its tiny song as
the tree crickets created their orchestra of sounds to fill out the background.
She let her day escape
with a sigh, then another louder and much longer one while she cleared her head
of everything that tormented her. She would
eventually have to reenter their house into that life that was so mismatched to
whom she used to be before she met him. For
now, she didn't think, and that action alone created an euphoria she never
experienced at any other time.
The storm crept in so
silently, she was not aware until a gust of wind brushed against her face with
that sweet intoxicating smell of moist earth.
A rush of windy currents tossed silver strands of her hair about, and as
she heard a rumbling in the air, she knew it was her signal to head for the
safety of indoors and leave her serenity behind.
The last twenty years she
had craved his company in the quiet of her days, but it was not in his nature to
understand her longings, and as they drifted further, year after year, she had
lost the recognition of herself as part of a couple. Of course, he felt differently, but let’s be
honest… don’t they all?
Bedtime came and went as
she poked along in her hours, until practicality coaxed her to climb between her
two sheets, as he had done hours before between his two sheets. She knew eventually, maybe, her cat would
find its place beside her, and all would be well in this little world she had
created for herself. It had to be
enough, and it always was.
Hibiscus moscheutos
Crimson-eyed Rose-mallow
Bottlebrush Grass, Elymus hystrix
A cool season grass,
meaning it grows actively during the spring and fall
when soil temperatures are cool.
Echinacea purpurea, Eastern Purple Coneflower
Purple Coneflower is usually listed as drought tolerant,
and in my garden it will loose the lower leaves
and go to seed faster during a drought.
During a prolong drought
it could die without supplemental watering.
In super hot summers it might do better
with morning sun and afternoon dappled shade.
Toxicodendron radicans, Poison Ivy
Acanthocephala terminalis is a species
of leaf-footed bug in the family Coreidae.
Female Bumblebee gathering pollen and drinking nectar.
Baptisia tinctoria, Yellow Wild Indigo
Indian Pink (Spigelia marilandica)
'Green Eyes Wink' Daylily
Beginning to turn blue...
Hypericum prolificum, Shrubby St. John's-wort
Carpenter Ant on Rose-Mallow plant
Dappled Shade
Charlotte and Austin
Psychedelic
Pale-bordered Field Cockroach (Pseudomops septentrionalis),
also commonly known as a firefly roach.
Bolete mushrooms, which are characterized
by having pores instead of gills under their caps.
Ruellia humilis, Fringeleaf Wild Petunia
Rainy Day
Cephalanthus occidentalis, Common Buttonbush
Polistes carolina, Red Paper Wasp
trying to find an opening in the web.
The fall webworm (Hyphantria cunea) is a moth
in the family Erebidae known principally for its larval stage,
which creates the characteristic webbed nests.
Joe Pye Weed leaves unfurling as it grows taller.
A wedge of sunlight on a cloudy day.
~Daydreaming on a thinly
clouded day~
It’s easy to become lost
in thought on this thinly clouded day.
Memories come and go as the heat builds between the welcoming breezes,
while an anxiously chirping house wren brings me back to my senses.
Note to myself: Vic will
help me water the bog garden when he comes home tonight, as nighttime soaking
will bring the drooping Joe Pye Weed back to life. It was a bog garden built around half the
pond, and to water it, the pond overflowed into the area when it rained or was
replenished during the dryer season.
The pond no longer exists,
as I became too whatever to be able to do all the heavy work that was required
to keep it from becoming overwhelmed by the pond plants, and now it acts more
as a rain garden. All the bog plants are
still there, so we keep them well taken care of, as they attract so many
insects during blooming time in the middle of summer.
My tree frog is chirping
from somewhere nearby. I’m not even
going to look for it. It is a day too
warm for exploration, as I keep moving my deck chair halfway around the
umbrella to keep the sun off of me. It
will eventually be a loosing battle, and tonight it will be realigned with the
house eves to keep the triangle of sunlight away.
At the beginning of the
week I pruned all the shrubs away from the walkway along the fence line of the
back yard; a task that took hours, as Vic never remembers how to prune
things. He was my helper cleaning up
behind me, although it makes me feel like he is rushing me along. I fight the urge to chase him away.
The Northern Cardinal is
loudly chirping from the corner of the back garden where the Persimmon Tree,
Hornbeam tree, and the neighbors tall Sweet Gum tree that grew as a weed
seedling and now towers over the corner of his garden into ours. It is a lovely spot as the trees are bushing
out to cover the area with shade.
Today was to be a day when
I got up with the sun to experience the garden when it is still cool enough to
enjoy, and when bird song is its strongest.
Instead I woke up at the pill taking time alarm blaring in my ear, and while
the cats were eating, let my mind poke along forever, and now with a late
start, I think I will call it a day, and move to cooler territory inside my
home.
So I end this at 11:30 am
with the temperature an uncomfortable 84 degrees F. The breezes are not constant, and all that
loudly interfering sound of rubber gripping asphalt is driving my noggin back
to white noise mode where daydreaming lets me sit in peace.
I am Charlotte, hear me roar like a Jaguar!!
The Ballad of Tabby McFierceson
His body rippled with
muscle under that mangy patch of fur, and the combination of that plus one
permanently bent ear flap, a snaggle toothed mouth, and the bony nub of what was
once a tail gave him the look of a crazed psycho.
Her human would chase him
from the garden with the water hose when he sleuthed through the underbrush for
baby robins, but what is not seen never bothers, so his Modis de operando for
survival was to learn to rule incognito.
He passed right under her
window with that gimpy leg of his from too many territorial disputes, and as he
did, he turned his gaze upward and looked straight into her eyes. She had a vision of him making that gigantic
leap, crashing through the glass and kicking the living daylights out of her
with his hind feet.
She cringed but stood her
ground. He brushed her off like the fragile
leaf she was and moved on down the corridor behind the fragrant asters along
the hot south side of the house.
He ruled this little
kingdom of Nirvana and used it as his respite from the sufferings of an
otherwise harsh life he never asked for, but was destined to live with whatever
time he had left.
Does this ever end?
It's my dream, so let me finish.
Sounds like a steamy romance novel.
Oh, ple-e-e-e-ease...it's a nightmare!!!
My mistake - take all the time you need. You can follow me while I load up my walker shelf with books needing relocation, and drag it down the hallway to my writing room.
I prefer 100% of your attention, mommy dearest.
Huh...I prefer other things, too - yet here I am.
Do you love me?
~sigh~ Let me sit in my comfy chair and give you 100% of my attention.
I'm behind glass, so I handled that confrontation by eye contact well, don't you think?
Whatever...
If I had the freedom of the garden, surely he would chew me up and spit out the remains for ant food. It gives me a certain excitement about fear.
Do you think being low down on the food chain chart creates an exciting edge between pushing the limits of how well you evade annihilation and how daring you are to get that rush of living yet another day?
What nonsense! There's more to the dream, mommy dreadful :(
Well, then... do proceed.
My nightmare escalates to where I'm having to run against all odds to escape from all kinds of outdoor creatures in the middle of winter with the elements fighting against me.
He he he… What happen to coyotes, mountain lions, and hawks? Basically the food you would eat in the wild is going to annihilate you in your dream. That's interesting.
Oh, I see, I should dream bigger to include those who would eat ME?
You miss the point, fuzzy head. If you dream bigger you'll have herds of mice and chipmunks coming at you, instead of coyotes and hawks. Your dream is caused by unfinished business of how you think of life. Maybe you could be happy that in your dreams you actually escape these creatures. Try doing some deep breathing at sleep time, and give yourself some positive reinforcement.
I think if I was actually paying for this advice, I would be suing you for malpractice.
So, do pray tell - what ideas do you have, smarty pants?
Since you are a nature lover like me, why not open the sliding glass door and let me be free.
Freedom is an illusion, not for the faint of heart.
A what for what?
It's a no go!
How well I know. Every time I make a beeline for the open space, your legs double in number with a shoe jammed in my face. I'm so bored with the whole process. Let's negotiate.
Oka-a-ay. What's your second choice,
A house full of free range Chickadees, the more the better.
Figures. So, what's your third choice, little stinker.
Third choice? I have no third choice.
Then it's settled. Good talk. Carry on.
Somehow I feel like I just got short changed.
Do you want dinner now?
It's two hours early!
My treat!
Oh, goody. Love you, mommy dearest.
Love you too, sweet Charlotte.
~Sometimes Life Just Needs A Restart~
Charlotte's Bed
At night she loans it to me.
Every now and then,
when the world sits just right,
a gentle breath of heaven
fills my soul with delight...
when the world sits just right,
a gentle breath of heaven
fills my soul with delight...
~Hazelmarie "Mattie" Elliott, A Breath of Heaven
As always, with love ~
Yvonne
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