Black Eyed Susan
I see many things
Happening
When I look at this flower.
I see the growth from June
That led to these
Brilliant
Yellow
Flowers in
July.
I see the butterflies
And bees
And goldfinch
Who taste it’s
Magic
In ways I never will.
I see the humidity
And the heat
Propelling
It into reproduction.
And the cicada song calling it
To release
It’s seeds for the future.
Soon
The crickets will lull it
To sleep..
The light will change to match the flower..
And fall will paint the earth around me
In a very different
Splendor
Of color
And weather.
August
You know,
There are only a few things
I like about August..
@goblin_soup came earthside,
The sunset changes to
An orange hazy light,
And this flower blooms.
I feel like
August
Is like,
“Just let the insects have it.”
Take a break.
Wash off.
Make a pie
With that fruit
Sitting on the counter.
Do something else..
Well,
I’m listening..
I’m choosing rest.
Kindness.
And self care.
I’m watching the weeds
And the insects
Take over
And it feels
Perfect.
Lake Chatuge
Some days
- most days these days..
I just don’t get
The state of the world.
Or the way people
treat other people.
As though we are so
Different
From one another.
It takes much more energy
To be angry
And mean
rather than kind
Or helpful.
It just hurts my heart
This great divide
I feel
And see..
- Me?
I’m going to keep diving back in
Im going to keep believing
Y’all are doing your best too
Because what else
Can I do?
The Garden
The heat
The humidity
And the insects
Are doing their collective job
Of bringing on the stress
To the garden.
Flowers are starting to fade.
Black eyed Susan’s are blooming.
Seeds are setting.
We will be harvesting
Black eyed peas this weekend
For drying
And storing.
Feeling grateful
For the black billed cuckoo calls
And the song
of the hermit thrush
All to the beat
Of the drip
Drops
Of water falling off the trees.
Soaking up
A cooler
And refreshing morning
Sit spot
Today.
Geese
A lovely weekend
Brought to close
With mist
Floating over the mountains.
Fresh water lake waves
Saturated with new memories
And laughter
Lapping the rocky shore.
The humid morning air
Filled with
Kingfisher chatter
Woodpecker keeees
And the communicative calls
Of Canada geese
Moments from slapping the water
With their broad bodies.
Wetland
Do you know what I know?
I know nothing.
What I know
Is an ongoing evolution
Of me simply trying to get though each
Day
Making every effort to be
The best I can that day
To take care of myself
And those I love
With all I have
In the world
I don’t know who is right
Or who is wrong
I have my opinions
My ideas
My illusions
But I really just don’t know.
What fits for me
Is that my discomfort
Is small in comparison
To that of most
So to do a small part
To take care of those
Whom one day I may
Need to love
And tend
I do what seems right
Today.
I hope you do the same.
Love your neighbor
As you would love yourself.
Mallow
This plant
is new to our garden this year.
We weren’t really sure what to expect from her.
She has been interesting to watch - from her emergence to flowering..
unsure of who she is, how she lives, how she sways
and handles heavy wind and rain.
Her flowers remind me of primrose. As fragile and short-lived.
But, her stem and leaves
are strong and tall
Like an elegant queen.
I’m not sure if we will harvest her roots this year
for medicine. For now,
I’m just observing and developing
my relationship with her
And listening.
Cooks Trail
I fall out and I fall back in. The practice calls me back when I stray because it is within me and my world is better when I am with it. Four years. As I change the practice changes. As the seasons change. The practice changes. But it is always there waiting patiently for me to settle back into its loving embrace.
Transitions
Transitions.
Life is full of them. They are always happening even when they are not as bold as when the dead leaves drop, when the seeds lie in the earth seemingly motionless, when roots reach for resources. When the warmth of fire calls us away from the cold, and the dark night is silent.. this time of year is magic because it is easy to shed.. it is a natural instinct.
Greenway
Yellow dashes
Sunset
Between here
Between there
Everywhere
Nowhere
Anywhere
.. Here.
Straight down
the middle Way.
Light
In this mornings light
I see the thunder
And lightening
Of yesterday’s
Gray Clouds
Rise
into Delicate
Barely visible
vapor..
Releasing each molecule
Into the summertime
Humidity
That calls the cicadas
From the deep earth
to sing..
Perspective
PERSPECTIVE
Sitting
-well, swinging
In my grandmother’s swing
-the one we bought her
-the one she sat in
Daily
Looking out into the jungle
Of the highway.
Watching the days pass.
I swing
Looking out
Into the madness that is
My Garden
Impatiently
Or possibly patiently
Waiting
On the Red Clover to bloom
It’s little purple flowers
And the oats to spill their drops milk..
And the coneflowers to bloom
Wondering when??
Will the elderberry blossoms
Be perfect for cutting..
And drying..
Wishing
For every nook
Every cranny
To be filled with beauty
My hands, My eyes, My heart
Will know..
Or does it already?
Listening.
Hermit thrush
sings it’s slow and flutey song
Mockingbird
sings it’s impatient and hurried song..
Both perfect in their own way..
Depending on who is listening
And watching..
The days pass.
A Titmouse Story
While sitting on my favorite climbing tree at the farm I was admiring these little oak flowers listening to the birds - because there were so many. I was trying to catch all the songs.. a little titmouse came and landed beside me on my left. I slowly turned my head towards it and the bright eyed curious bird jumped to a branch a little closer. I immediately thought this bird wants to be my friend. It jumped to the right of me and looked me directly in the eye before FLYING and landing on my right arm. Then it leaped up to my shoulder and beat its wings by my ear which cause me to lower my ear to my shoulder because.. what if it pecks me in my ear? And its feathers tickled.. It proceeded down the front of my sweater and pulled a stray hair off of it. I kid you not. (I feel like I should insert here that I had been camping and my hair was a tangled mess.) This tiny new companion hopped down in front of me onto the trunk I was sitting on looked up at me - with the hair in its beak and proceeded to jump BACK on me - this time on my HEAD where it flitted around a few seconds - its itty bitty feet scratching lightly on my scalp. It did not pull a hair from my head but I definitely think it was considering it before it jumped back to in front of me and flew off with the hair from my sweater. Happy to be a nesting materials source for you my lightweight and feathered new companion.
Ironwood
Life
Is always happening.
Awareness and attention
Presence..
Held in moments
Of connection
And Awe.. Reflected Potential.
Reminded Possibility.
In the depths of winters
Last days.
Ironwood flowers.
Along the river
On a warm sunny day
In February.
Fire
Spatial Transmissions
From the epicenter of all things.
Explosions in colors
Of Fire and Seasonal Time.
Song
Suspended
In Silent Vibration
Dark night looming
In Shadows and Suspense.
Gravity holds us to this place.
The universe in ecstatic motion.
Unicoi Gap to Neels Gap
Of things paradoxical and transcendental..
Of things intellectual and instinctual,
of musical and physical,
of minimal and maximal,
of fungal and botanical.. ascending and descending.
One foot in front of the other.
Leaving what is behind
Looking forward only..
Seeking the balance,
Finding the middle way.
Unicoi Gap to Neels Gap
21.2 Miles #appalachiantrail
How We Garden
Our garden isn’t somewhere you sit and chill out - though I find myself on the steps of our porch most mornings listening to the birds and watching the sun rise with coffee in hand. If our garden was a sitting garden it wouldn’t be our garden. We are active people who ‘do’ from the moment our eyes open until we lay down to sleep. Tending it more than relaxing in it fits us better than a visually stunning landscape design. Both of which serve an important purpose depending on who you are and what you need from your place. It took a very long time to get this space of earth to be the garden we always wanted. I am sure if you asked one of us a question about it we would tell you what we will do differently next time or in the future or where it needs some work. In order to achieve what we have created Jason and I had to learn how to communicate our vision with each other. It wasn’t easy. He’s visual, dreams big, and likes a long term giant plan that often overwhelms me. I like order, rows, and to learn through observation and mistakes - which he likes too, but my vision of the big picture of our garden errs towards this growing season verses ten years from now. We make it work and I’m forever grateful for his knowledge and willingness to simply do it together. In the beginning, when we decided to truly put down our roots and move towards homesteading - which we get a little better at every year - we had to decide where to start and how to start. Then, we had to figure out what we both wanted to get out of this place we call home. We also had to figure out how to give back to it because that’s the tending piece, yes? Our garden, like us, is an active place. It is a continual work in process. It is constantly being reinvented, changing, growing. Sometimes it thrives and sometimes we have epic fails. It is a reflection of us. It is a place where we learn about living and loving. We walk it together almost nightly cutting our cucumbers, okra, herbs for dinner and we dream about the next phase.. our food forest and orchard!
Cluster
Life and death.
All in one.
Where it all begins.
Where it all ends.
The only constant within it is change.
Hazy Sky
..Today,
The crickets began singing
From dawn to dawn..
Perfectly,
On time.
And so the seasons change..