Dog Psalm #103

I am one
with
all things bright and beautiful.

Shade

Linger in the cool spots
when the late summer heat is turned up.

Marigold

The color of those marigolds sure is loud.

Dog Psalm #89

Relish the sweet smell of spring blossoms right outside the door.

The beauty of nature is a balm to the soul.

103 degrees

The best way to beat the heat

is to get up early and coat your entire underside

with dew from the grass.

Door Yard

 

The plants have inspired me 

to request rosemary and sage roasted chicken for dinner.

A dog can dream, can't he?

Porch Farming

Daily I encourage the plants.
Grow. Produce. Multiply.

My what lovely blossoms you have tomato.
How much I look forward to your sweet, red bounty.

Basil you are a true and steadfast friend. Reach for the sky.
Geranium, delicate but spicy scented one,
it is a pleasure to sit by you.

After the rain

I stop and smell the flowers.

Iris are the apple of my eye.

Dear sweet deep blue summer

so soft beneath my feet

I savour our days together.

Gardening

requires the proper tools

and attire

This is clearly not the proper attire for me.
Really?! Giant roses? You know better. 

Nor is this!
Some kind of odd misshapen sombrero? Please.

I don't need no stinkin' hat.

I'm already wearing SPF 100. It's called fur.

Now into the garden! Plants - let me at 'em.

The 'fall back' walk

On this All Souls Day there is dancing.

Beauty everywhere.

The wind drew this image.

Magic Happens

The day before Hurricane Bill passed through town we went for an extra long walk.  Once things get torrential I can go days without going outside.  But I love a good pre-storm build up, and want to be out in it. I feel the momentum gathering inside me.  We left a note for who ever made the lovely Tabor Tree garden.  We left it in a zip lock bag, thumb (she did that part) tacked to the stump. 

So it wouldn't be blown or washed away. 

On Sunday, safe inside another bag we found   

 

  

How wonderous and wonderful!

How many others recognize?  

How could they not?

The flowers and the vases are changed often.  

It is such a dear and well tended place.  

This white vase is a mug that lost its handle 

and found a new and bigger purpose.

Gladys Potter and her parents are surely marveling at it.

We are.

Conversations with Trees

Every morning and night
I take a walk and talk with trees.
Over the past few weeks my conversation partners
have become fewer and fewer.
The bulk of many of my multi-ringed friends is now
waiting on the wood pile or pulp pile to do their next transformative service.







The dear "barber tree" by Gladys' children's park
tries to keep everyone's spirits up
by sprouting leaves even as part of her top rests by her side.
She said she knew this was coming.
She said they said she had rot and there was fear of disease.
She hopes because of her efforts they will let her stump, some part of her, stay.



She wants to remain a confidant and pillar of the community;
imagines she could be a toddler table worthy of their demands and efforts
or a handy stool for a child's devoted, beloved guardian;
paper on which someone learns to write
and in turn learns about the right to be.

Some lovely someone
celebrated one of the mighty Tabor Trees
with this beautiful garden.





So many shade giving friends
are no longer smiling down at us.

Yet, their rooty, remembering faces
keep watch of us now from the ground.



Looking up with recognition, wisdom, questions, hope

There are many young trees here too.
A century ago a woman who loved
left an endowment
to ensure the grove would grow.
Old trees would be nursed and taken care,
young trees would be planted and nurtured.
It remains hard to say goodbye to dear old friends
and it takes time to make new ones.



But there are new friends to make.
I am grateful to that woman
and for this place.