all things new

in the neighbours' gardens

We are blessed with wonderful neighbours in this little hamlet of ours. Folks will wander over for a stroll through the garden or pause on the porch for a coffee. 100 years ago the neighbours here shouted "halos" across the road to each other. Today not much has changed. The faces are different but the "hellos" are still called back and forth.

Neighbours south have a glorious bed of lupines.

********

Neighbours west have a bed of wildly colorful poppies

translucent in the morning sun.

breeze

When our whites are dancing in the early morning breeze

and the shadows still stretch long beneath them

there is a wonderful sense of "all is right with the world".

butterflies

small blue butterfly

This little fellow was more interested in me than in having his photo taken. I think he liked the saltiness of my skin as his little tongue was darting about seeming to lick at my finger.

Maria took the photo for me.

Truly the early morning hours are the best for enjoying the gardens.

The lilacs are still lovely and the irises and lilies are already blooming.

the vegetable garden

We are trying a square foot garden,

and within all the squared feet wee bits of edibles are popping up.

Varied leaves are pushing through the soil,

and carrots, lettuce, kale, fennel, corn, tomatoes,

peas, beans, squash, radishes and beets

are all showing themselves in their own tidy spaces.

not phlox.. actually Dame's Rocket

So I've been corrected by my nature loving friend Betty and the flowers I've always called Wild Phlox are actually called Dame's Rocket. They are a member of the mustard family and in some of the states considered a noxious weed. The four petaled blooms come in a variety of colours purple and lavender being most common. They spread prolifically in well drained areas along ditches and roadways and sun drenched areas in the woods.

poppies

abandoned

Yesterday we wandered up lanes of yesteryear.

We wanted to see some of the homes that stand forgotten, empty and neglected.

Weeds grew high and the odd splash of color suggested a garden carefully planted long before.

These were the homes of families, built a century and a half ago.

Who lived there? With what pride were these houses carefully constructed?

Barns stand hollow and empty precipitating decay.

Forgotten gardens which once someone tended with pride.

A few tulips still hopefully reappearing each spring.

Windows boarded up, doors nailed shut and slowly the house crumbles.

little son

To my Little Son(s)

In your face I sometimes see

Shadowings of the man to be,

And eager, dream of what my son

Will be in twenty years and one.

But when you are to manhood grown,

And all your manhood ways are known.

Then shall I, wistful, try to trace

The child you once were in your face.

Julia Johnson Davis

miracles of diversity

Be Still and Know That I Am God

All beauty whispers to the listening heart:

Love does not shout, and ecstasy is still;

The friendly silence of infinity

Forever broods above a lifted hill.

A flower leaps to life- the quiet clod

Has uttered music; noiselessly a tree

Flings forth green song; the snow breathes soundless prayers;

And stars are vocal with tranquility!

Mary Hallet

In the quiet of the morning I am thrilled by the diversity of the flowers growing in the garden.

temporal

From brilliant yellow to a cloud of white to airborne miracles of reproduction.

Do the flowers never weary in their "chasing after the wind"?

I weary of yesterday's tasks undone. I feel angry at Solomon's Ecclesiastical suggestion that all is meaningless because so it feels somedays.

We are task oriented, created to accomplish and at the end of the day we wish to have evidence of our energies spent. Sometimes it feels impossible- the list of things we want to tackle too long, too impossible, too discouraging somedays.

And so,

one

small task

at a time..

I will try to rebuild

the satisfaction

into my

mandate.

And one small task at a time clouds lift.

red winged blackbird

the sound of summer

Before you can start spring cleaning

you need to do a spring purging.

And so, I have been holed up in the basement,

sorting and tossing and cleaning.

I have an urge to start in one corner

and not stop till the entire house is tidy and organized.

Thankfully God commanded that we take a sabbath rest,

a day to listen, and to worship,

and to admire some of God's handiwork.

lilacs

aahh...

the delightful scent of lilacs

is a tonic for the"blahs"

manchild

He was named after one brother of mine, but looks like the other.

He is reflective, a thinker, a ponderer, a studier. He questions and needs to understand before he believes. More reticent than the others. When hurt he hides to quietly nurse his pain. He has difficulty expressing his deepest feelings. I need to seek him out and search out his heart. I need to pull him close and whisper to him and love him. He is hesitant to climb onto any lap but the very familiar. An independent chap.

I hurt his feelings yesterday when I commented on a bright sun that he had added to his drawing. He covered his eyes and cried. Fragile heart. Aren't we all like that? Unable to handle criticism? Hurt when someone suggests our labour is not adequate? Oh, the fragile heart! I pulled the squirming little fellow onto my lap, my lithe little man, and comforted both him and I. I whispered antidotes to the poisen of my critical words as he relaxed and wrapped his arms around my neck and whispered balm onto my chastised self.

mother's day

It is mother's day.

During the night little Marten was sick and I was up with him a number of times. Comforting him and cleaning him and crawling into bed with him to be close by him. As he lay shivering against me I couldn't fall asleep. As they often do my night time thoughts became anxious ones. Frequently I have nightmares about horrific things happening to my little ones. My last thoughts before I drift off to sleep are often worries about what will befall my children. What will life be like for them? As a mother I wish I could eternally tuck them under my wings and protect them from difficulties.

Last night I thought of a mother whom I know is mourning her son's death. I thought of a friend who is mourning a mother's death. I thought of Congolese Neema and Liliane who fight for their children's survival. Haitian mothers who lost children in the earthquake. Life really is a veil of tears. Then I thought of Mary, mother of Jesus, called Blessed Among Women, standing forlorn at the foot of the cross, her heart breaking for the loss of a son who was perfect. Our love for our children can be scarred by their sins and shortcomings. Not so with Mary. She did not understand, as we often still don't understand, not seeing beyond the shadowlands.

I awakened to unexpected cold weather with snow sugared over the blossoms and grass. I awakened to the love of children expressed in a gift and a card. I awaken every day to the love of a heavenly Father that far exceeds my own love for my children. How can I not trust that He will lead my little ones too?

Thank you God for the beauty of today and the perfect promise of tomorrow.

crab apple tree

This new tree shows great promise of being an annual beauty in our front yard.

morning in the garden

My favourite time to wander in the garden is in the early morning when the sun's slanted rays illuminate the petals and the night's raindrops still linger.

Intrinsic Value

Beauty breaks through not only at a few highly organized points, it breaks through almost everywhere. Even the minutes things reveal it as well as do the sublimest things, like the stars.

Whatever one sees through the microscope, a bit of mould, for example, is charged with beauty. Everything from a dewdrop to Mount Shasta is the bearer of beauty.

And yet beauty has no function, no utility. Its value is intrinsic, not extrinsic. It is its own excuse for being. It greases no wheels, it bakes no puddings. It is a gift of sheer grace, a gratuitous largesse. It must imply behind things a Spirit that enjoys beauty for its own sake and that floods the world everywhere with it. Wherever it can break through, it does break through, and our joy in it shows that we are in some sense kindred to the giver and revealer of it.

Rufus M. Jones

six slips into seven

(listen to an Irish Blessing, song # 2 from the playlist below)

She's a lover of family and friends. Her neighbours are her friends.

She's sensitive and kind. She's eager to learn.

She always tries to please. She's quick to offer a hand.

She's artistic and an appreciator of nature and beauty.

She loves her God and His Spirit is in her.

She's aware of her own shortcomings and quick to ask forgiveness for them.

She's our little girl and she's just slipped from six to seven.

I thank God for this child of mine.

nature and nurture

There are friends that God sends us that,

although they are a generation away,

we can chat with and enjoy passing the time with.

So today, we spent a day enjoying nature

and nurturing a new friendship.

a new day

And here it is

a new day

a new week

a new month

filled with God granted opportunities.

Shake the dust off your feet

wipe the sleep from your eyes

and through grace

begin again.

at the pond

the Mute Swan

american toads

We could hear them, the male toads, as we walked along the water at Mill Pond. Dozens of suitors trilling out their songs.

We watched, we listened and we marveled.

The American Toads are found throughout North America and can live almost anywhere as long as their is some freshwater nearby for the breeding season.

The breeding generally occurs as the days become longer and warmer. The males will congregate in shallow wetlands or ponds and establish territories. Once settled the male will start to call out his trills by ballooning out his throat. The females choose a male based on the beauty of his song and the location he has sought out.

A male toad gets horny pads on the first and second toes on his forelegs, which helps it clasp the larger female's abdomen. This posture is called "Amplexus". As the female releases her eggs the male releases sperm to fertilize them externally.

The female lays her eggs (4000-8000) in the water in long tubes (6 - 20 meters long) of jelly that resembles dusky laces along the pond bottoms.

The eggs hatch into tadpoles in 3 - 12 days, depending on the warmth of the weather. The tadpoles transform into adults in a 40-70 day process.

We carefully collected some of the eggs to put into our little pond and to watch them grow. Some we put into a see through container for better observation.

Tadpoles are herbivores that eat algae. The nocturnal adult toads eat insects, snails beetles, slugs and earthworms catching their prey with their sticky tongues. One American Toad can eat up to 1,000 insects a day! Enough of a reason to appreciate this creature.

(adapted from Animal Diversity Web, U of Michigan)