Sometimes a photo says it all.
Iris
Irises are my favorite of all flowers. A beautiful thing about irises is you always know when you are looking at one and yet they are all different and express themselves in their own unique way. What if humans learned to do that truly? To be beautiful? To love themselves and be free to bloom with all the markings, colors, and beauty possible? Would we still question and hurt one another with judgements and stories for being our unique selves? Would we fight for our place in the garden or just be?
Pistol and stamen
When this flower blooms
the Summer Tanagers song returns to the canopy
for the summer
to their home in the pine tree.
Anole
In the short time I have sat this evening I have seen so much life - new life.
The titmouse brought their babies to the japanese maple,
a male anole chased a female across the bamboo trellis,
another anole crawled in a hole in the bamboo and watched the world with me.
Blue jays brought their babies into the yard to feed.
The Great Crested Flycatcher (one of my favorite birds) showed up to add its song to the chorus.
The Ref Shouldered Hawks flew through returning their nest after a long day of hunting.
Chickadees bathed in the new pond.
Cardinals gathered up seed.
And my anole companion from the bamboo hole made its way down to check me out and sat with me on the bench.
I know what I thought of it.
I wonder what it thought of me.
