Three or four days ago, I quit a book
to the faithful few (ha!), you might know
this is not something I do
often
true, I have been in a bit of a
reading
funk
start… stumble through.. move on
(also not like me)
my work day read, is a good one
but to read on work days is just little bits at a time
on breaks
so these are slow and steady kind of reads
my ‘at home read’ has been
more of a challenge
of late
I happened to be reading a book about
Elizabeth Barret Browning, and really just beginning to
wade my way in
however, if I happen to be reading about the 1800’s
and the author suddenly throws
very modern day (to my thinking misplaced)
language
in
it starts to ruin the narrative for me
and when it is then repeated several times…
my patience
is
out
for me (anyway) language matters
so I begin this morning by revisiting words
from Andrea Gibson
“My mother used to knit my mittens
too big so they’d still fit me when I grew.
I wore them and I’d look like what I wasn’t yet.
I feel that sometimes when I’m writing poems,
they don’t fit. Ever feel like the best of you is something you’re
still hoping to grow into?”
many of which, as the first time,
continue to touch me
deeply
another beautiful summer day In the garden
I make my rounds, and apologies to many spaces
as most all things in the back
have been well and truly trampled, snatched
and sampled
by the resident puppy
and I suppose that’s ok
I sit by the small pond, accompanied this morning
by a very young cardinal
who is quite appreciative to have the bird bath
freshly replenished, for his or her
(a bit hard to tell at this young age)
morning splash
the monarchs are a-flutter
a large black swallowtail, many cabbage whites
and a lovely hummingbird moth
I am again missing my camera, for the shots
I guess, at this point… you’ll just trust me
I think to myself this morning, the best part of this
re-wilding of sorts
is in the myriad of insects you see
and start to really appreciate
the hoverflies, so many different bees, beetles
dragon and damselflies
waterbeetles, craneflies
tiny fluffy white aphids
spiders and
worms, caterpillars, moths and
butterflies
cicadas, even ants
each playing its part in the cycles of nature
whether eating or
being
eaten
and each, so necessary
this small white bird house
once the home to several families of wrens
having fallen from its initial perch
now resides on the log table beside me
where I sit
by the small pond
it’s been part of our garden, probably,
at least twenty years
this morning, with the angle of light
just right
inside, I notice, for the first time
in what remains of the paint that still clings to the wood
a large
white heart…
has me coming back again later,
just to make sure
it’s still there
so, this is what I’ll tell you, my friends
language matters,
notice matters
awareness
matters
and love,
above all
really does matter
from me to
you
that IS
why we’re here ♥
(and you, if you have made it this far, I really do appreciate You
being
here)