Tuesday 30 June 2015

bye-bye dear June


This has been the sweetest June I can remember in a long time. It has been the old-fashioned June of my childhood, flowering in temperate weather, laying its sweetness on us

except that it did rain for about 4 days in a row last week which was tedious.
Muji seemed to sleep through it so that I started to wonder if he was ill again.

but all was and is well. That's just my boy, sleeping like a baby, the sleep of the innocent.

Babu took the window on a less humid day looking unusually panther-like.

It doesn't take much to shift gears for Babu and soon he was in the kitchen with me, all wide-eyed.

There's this thing I'm sure he does, a kind of telepathic communion

the message somewhat garbled as he is easily distracted

It becomes clear that he wants up

and he leans forward to jump

Once he is on my lap he looks around

Now he takes the pose of an Egyptian, unusually noble,


Then a look to me for a "now what?"

Hmm?

and he eventually settles down for some cuddles

Muji would be so jealous if he knew, but he is lost in dreamland.

The dramatic sky on a gentle breezy day

a little jaunt to the garden to visit the onions that stand before the lettuces

The onions about to flower

they grow as a foursome

Our yummy salad greens of lettuce, arugula, mustard greens and dill

a windblown poppies that lost most of their petals in last week's blowing rain

all that's left of the last poppy

4
it's pistil and stamen

Eight Little Blueberries

Currants

a currant with its blossom end

climbing the little hill behind the garage I get a view of our poor little garden
and Forget-Me-Not Cabin as I look to the east

The little song sparrow who serenades us daily and often strikes up the band,
 but this is as close as I can get to him

Meet the Harelsons who grow rosier by the day, here with an ant who's come to visit

a grapevine in the backyard
On Friday I mowed a small swath out back of the cabin to show off the Honeysuckle

whose blooms are still highly scented

and glorious, tinted pale yellow, white and pink

Last of the Lupins

On the way back through the yard I catch a shot of a Hydrangea bloom about to pop

around the reclaimed composter that Wally built,the purple Clematis bloom
I can't seem to capture the purple however hard I try

The Echinacea are about to bloom

The Lavender is doing nicely

The wild Mallow has come back. Love them.


Wally picked me a little bouquet of Sweet William,
a kind of carnation pink

The Scented Azaleas have bloomed and they are wonderfully perfumed!


the Coral Bells still bloom in front of the coppery leafed Nine Bark

tender wild roses bloom out of sight on the far side of the garage


Their scent is heaven on earth

I've inundated you with pictures. How I wish I could add scent and sound. There is a romance in nature right now that is all the more rapturous for being so fleeting. One could drown in it and never care for the consequences.

Good-bye Sweet June. You've been so kind. If only we could be so kind to ourselves.

Try to find a place of peaceful solitude
 where you can bask in the miraculous flower that you are.


Friday 26 June 2015

kind June


It's Friday again. The last one of the month. An oddly mild June. After a rainy week, the sun has returned with kind cool temperatures that make everything so pleasant and green. I have a few shots to share with you today. Just a morning look  about.

I found Babu in the window and chose to crop him out for this weird exposure of Muji.

Here's his true beauty

Babu jumped down to make a kitty totem pole

a magnificent heirloom tomato on the kitchen counter

its blossom end folded and curled as it dries, a fascinating form in itself

an orange pen doodle on graph paper, another of my many phone doodles

and another on an old thank you letter for an article I wrote many years ago.
Who would have thought the letter would make it so far. In my bid to reduce the volumes of paper in my life it made it into the scrap pile I tear up for notes and lists (and doodles) by the phone.

I often think of my viewers in the southern hemisphere who are entering their winter and how different the world is for them at this time of year. We all live in such different contexts, from rural to city, from forest to plains. All interconnected and vital to the well-being of each other.
Sending my quiet wish for peace and lovingkindness to unite each to all and each to the self.