If there is ever a need, I will have a corner on the garlic chive market. Every one of those star-shaped flowers has become a round green seed pod, equally pretty in their own way. Given a little more time, the pods will open and show the hard black seed inside. Alliums are determined, never-say-die plants.
The lone turkey in the background above is one of the Six Silly Sisters, a group of girls who travel together. That one is the silliest of all. She dithers and delays and gets herself separated from the troupe, then runs about calling, "Where are you guys? Wait up! Wait for me!" In the time it took me to water my way around the deck, the Sisters made a full circle around the house, and Super Silly was still running behind and missed her photo op.
In the next-to-last pot at the far end, there was a little surprise. The columbine that came along when I'd gotten the pansies from Camille months ago had bloomed for the first time.
Moving along the deck from sun to shadow with leaves twirling down (job security) and hummers doing a fly-by past my head, I thought, "This is my favorite thing to do." No, wait. Hanging laundry on the line is my favorite thing. Wrong again. Riding around on the lawn tractor mowing down weeds is my favorite thing. Looking into a deer's eyes before it turns to go back into the woods; watching the vultures circle or a hawk dive; listening to the hens gossip at bedtime; filling a bucket with foaming milk from a contented goat; sitting with Bessie's head on my feet and Pearl safe nearby; seeing my family piling out of their trucks (all but Pete drive trucks) or calling "Love you!" as they go down the drive; sunrise and sunset. How can only one thing be the favorite when life is filled with such moments and so many more?
1 comment:
Sounds like life is good when the "list of gratitudes and favorites" is that long. May you experience at least a few of those today!
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