from green to eventually blue

“You ought to have seen what I saw on my way
To the village, through Mortenson’s pasture to-day:
Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb,
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum
In the cavernous pail of the first one to come!
And all ripe together, not some of them green
And some of them ripe! You ought to have seen!”

Robert Frost
Blueberries

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This may not be Mortenson’s pasture Mr. Brown—just Julie’s yard.
And I can’t claim that the blueberries are exactly yet blue or as large as one’s thumb–
But trust me—all in good time, they too, will soon be bursting with color, flavor and the juice of a summer yet to have been lived.

Heartfelt prayers for all those affected by the recent tumultuous storms– from the deadly tornados to the historic flooding.
Here’s to dreaming of warmer, sunnier, drier and calmer days to come for all of us!!

A visual tale of contrast

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”
― John Steinbeck

The sun is brightly shining, as the frigid bitterness of the days prior, tempers to a delightful and balmy 45ᵒ
I’m on a mission.
A mission to find life amongst the frozen tundra known as the land I call home.
The ground still hard and frozen under foot, the bright winter sun brilliantly warming while accented by a cloudless azure sea of sky.
There is the scent of smoke in the air.
I have shed my heavy coat.
The nuthatches and chickadees chirp merrily as they poke and prod the hard ground for seed.
Nestled near a walkway cowers a small ancient birdbath now sadly frozen.

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Amazingly just a few short steps beyond the solid frozen mass of water, leaves and straw lie tucked sweetly among the rocks, a tiny beautiful carpet of soft chartreuse moss begging to be rubbed. Is there any better feeling on a hot summer day, barefoot, finding a cool patch of moss. . .

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All of the bushes and shrubs are now barren clumps of twisted sticks and twigs. Odd thing it seems now to have merely a garden of sticks verses the usual lush plump green leaves and vines which typically call this place home. Upon a close inspection of the gnarly twig clumps dotting the now leaf covered bank–there oddly remains a few shriveled grey masses protruding along the quince bushes. These alien nodules resemble some sort of grotesque growth rather than the usual crunchy yellow green orbs which typically adorn these showy asian orientals.

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And just as Mother Nature, who seems to relish in her relentless taunting of our tender senses, would have this winter world of cold appear hopelessly void of any semblance of colorful life, I spy a tenacious little champion of all that screams LIFE.
It is the lowly, albeit stubborn, bane of any gardener. . .the hardy and nearly indestructible dandelion.

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The ground a hard frozen mass, the winds and temperatures so brutal that almost all vegetation has either perished or will surly be stunted come the growing season, and yet, this most noxious of garden foes not only maintains its place in the pecking order of nature, but appears to thrive—-providing any and all who happen to pass by a bit of colorful joy in a bleak and oh so cold world.

So yes Mr. Steinbeck, it is to this winter that we must acknowledge there is indeed a sweetness to be had—in just about 5 months or so we will have all but forgotten these current cold long shadowed days. This barren world will no longer exist. Our seemingly long deprived senses will be filled and overflowing—

Yet until those long warmer days arrive, I shall continue my quest, my mission—and that is to find those hidden breadcrumbs which a previous season has strewn along its departure– leaving behind a tantalizing trail to remind me that better days are indeed ahead!

Out with the old, in with the new

Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend – or a meaningful day.
Dalai Lama

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(the pumpkins tossed sadly on the compost pile)

With the passing of a single day, all that was is now no more.
Autumn has been ushered out to the compost pile. The casual tossing out of the warm muted tones and the packing away of the drifting leaves, the crisp browns, the deep woods all in order to make way for the rather garish greens, reds and twinkling lights of a magical season for children, young and old, and of the wishes and dreams of both.

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With the turning of a month everything changes. Another transition leaving us feeling as if we are in a constant state of flux, ebbing and flowing with the calendar.
Time is now of the essence. It is a period of expectation, waiting and watching.
A single star shines in a cold clear night’s sky.
Life is about to change.
The world will lose the old self making way for the birth of hope and salvation.

Make certain that you make this time meaningful. Time is of the essence. Go beyond the shopping, the buying, the wrapping, the indulgence, the excess.
Be still.
Be quiet.
Listen.
Watch.
The birth of Hope and Salvation is at hand.

Progress of all sorts……

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What’s this you say? Are those two feet adorned by wellies of sorts? Whose feet are those Julie? Are they your feet? Where is that cast thing of yours? Shhhhhhhhhh—don’t tell but I’ve flown the proverbial coup. During my last visit to the orthopedic, I asked him if I had to wear the blasted thing when we went down to Savannah. He told me I was pushing the envelope a bit but he thought that perhaps I could give it a go…just make certain I brought the aircast along for the ride–of which I did.

I walked and I walked and it hurt and it hurt, but not the serious kind of hurt—just the “I’m not use to all this walking sans a cast kind of hurt.” And yes it is still swollen a bit, more so later in the day—kind of like a ping pong ball for an ankle bone—but I’ve got to start somewhere….he also told me that he was cutting me loose and to call if I needed them. Needed them? Heck No!! I’m out of here and out of that blasted aircast!!!!…..free at last, free at last….just keep me level, no running, twisting, jumping, nothing sudden….slow and steady, slowly but surly….and no d@&n ditches!!!!

And lookie at the garden……
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and lookie lookie, someone is starting to “turn” colors…It can’t be too long now……
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Happy days of June…….