Peripatetic philomaths…focusing on what's really important, eating ethically and cleanly, fermenting, foraging/wildcrafting, practicing herbalism, and being responsible stewards of our land. Sharing our photos, musings, and learnings. Still seeking our tribe.
Inviting, yes…and uninvited. But no invitation is needed for this lovely greenery: morning glory vines just seem to appear along a rock retaining wall near our house, stunning with their early-morning cornflower radiance. A cheery flower, indeed, and a wise one, retiring (for the day) in the afternoon. That we should all keep such a schedule – an afternoon siesta might keep us similarly glorious!
And for the pedantic, I know rhyming haiku is somewhat frowned upon in poetry circles. I don’t care. The verse flowed, so I’m going with it. I am, after all, a rebel at heart.
When you start the morning chores and the sky looks this angry, you know you’re racing the clock. You think to yourself “just a few more minutes…”, but you know you’re not in control – nature is. After about 15 minutes, our luck ran out and the heavens opened up on us. We were both soaked. But that’s how it goes when you farm and there are animals to be attended to; sometimes, you get lucky and the rain holds off, and sometimes it doesn’t. And the chores still must be done.
In a reversed world, these diminutive flowers could be stars in a firmament. Today, though, they’re tears. Despite how it may look, this scene is about transformation: the fragrant fading flowers will become vibrant berries – capable of becoming new plants and nourishing animals. And I will eagerly await the change. Be well.
I’m always happy to see our pollinator friends, but am particularly grateful now for the perspective they provide. When I’m mired in the seemingly inescapable “deep thoughts”, these hard-working creatures remind me that it’s important to focus on both the philosophical and the quotidian. Be well.
I think every person should have access to trees – to enjoy, to touch, to revere. Sadly, I know that some people don’t…and I have lived in places with very few trees, stunted creatures that did their best to survive surrounded by concrete, blanketed by pollution, and subjected to abuse and neglect. They still put forth their hopeful leaves and continued reaching toward the sun – and making oxygen for the people too preoccupied to notice them, let alone appreciate them.
I vastly prefer living, as I do now, in a place with trees. I find it difficult (if not impossible) to feel angry or stressed when looking up into the leafy canopy, shielded from the sun’s rays. It’s quiet and soothing there. Birds sing from the branches, nests hidden high above. Under the tree, it’s almost a different world.
Learn more about the health – and other – benefits of trees here.
Many lives have been changed by the SARS-CoV-2 (COVID-19) pandemic; some have argued that our lives will never be quite the same. Strangely, though, life here, now, hasn’t changed as much as it might otherwise have. Spring means new life, growth, and opportunities to learn.