In July I continued my habit of taking very long walks early in the morning, and I was amply rewarded! More flowers, more sidewalk poetry, more amusing lawn ornaments, and more stories.
Lit from within!
Some mushrooms are really flowers at heart.
 I don't know what I like better—the soaring flowers that have completely overtaken a light pole; or the tangled, gnarly trunk. |  |
Through the trees, a glimpse of a pond I didn't know was there.
Here's an albino squirrel I see frequently on my walks. (Or maybe it's not the same one?!) I would like to believe this little guy brings me good luck.
On a beautiful Sunday morning, this squirrel was enjoying his breakfast—an entire bagel. Maybe he's got the New York Times stashed away somewhere too.
A birthday balloon determined to celebrate until the last possible moment.
Not much to look at here...but wait, isn't that a word on the garage?
No joy here...
No joy here, either...
But here the joy has been given permanent status.
Now for some lawn ornaments...
 I have to believe that this homeowner is a fan of Ursula Le Guin's CATWINGS series. (Makes me feel quite nostalgic. I remember reading these to my kids when they were little.) |  |
This yard is a story in itself!
What made these leaf patterns?
Do you get the feeling the shrub is reaching with all its might toward the broken branch?
A food dish for a stray cat? I hope so.
A shattered TV on the sidewalk...
...but how lovely, the shattered bits of sky!
Old box springs ready to be picked up.
| Advice for Gardeners Accept brevity. Celebrate decay. Emancipate failed growth, hope it'll just keep living. Mulch near odd places. Quit raking. Sleep. Read unlimited variegated words. Xerox your zucchini. |
| Autumn winds drag leaves from the trees, clog the streets in dreary finale. Bare branches crisscross the heavy sky. Icy rain spatters, ink-blots the pavement. I settle at the window, stare into the black flannel, search the woolly lining of the night for winter. |
What hurt you today
was taken out of your heart
by the meadowlark
who slipped the silver needle
of her song
in and out of the grey day
and mended what was torn.
was taken out of your heart
by the meadowlark
who slipped the silver needle
of her song
in and out of the grey day
and mended what was torn.
| Steal It Go. Feel the rush. Speed. Take off. The throw. The catch. The slide.. ...Safe. |
In closing, here's another flower. What a thrill to reach the light!
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