Did you bring treats? I prefer dandelion greens with my cantaloupe rinds and seeds.
Ahh! Pomegranates are turning red, the bees are busy.
Wandering around the yard and orchard, stopping to push the camera and lens into the trees laden with ripening fruit, I notice that I am moving with the trigger. Oh. Come back to this moment, right here, breathe in the fragrance, the hum of bumblebee and the bouncing morning light. Then, and only then, press the button.
The time has come that the hen house needs to be constructed. This is our project for the weekend, interspersed with a trip to the beach, a pot-luck, and general dawdling. The pullets will be so happy to have more room, egg boxes and their own supply of grass and dirt in which to fluff. I swear, I promise... in the future, I will be sure that the structure is complete before I bring home any more chicks.
And here is a poem by my teacher, David Wagoner.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
Thank you, David.
Thank you, garden
Bee and sky.