The heat scours the landscape
and the humidity wraps itself in my hair,
creating damp ringlets against my neck.
The rustle of desiccated leaves,
scratching the dry itch
of the hot southern breeze,
is all that’s left of the garden.
Rooms remain darkened,
shades pulled
against the late afternoon sun,
with only the sound of the ceiling fan
in the drowsy halflight.
It is August
and the summer has been long.
The sun is rising farther to the south
inching each day to the true east
to the equinox
Gnomon
the one who knows
his shadow casts the lengthening light across
the figured stylus
away from numbers and chimes
but into nature’s time
Time is not linear
but round
a spiraling cycle of sun and moon
Persephone’s choice
of resurrection and renewal
rising from the withered vine
to abundant grape and glory
only to wither again
Modern time is only a construct of conceit-
man controlling his minutes and hours
each tied to his wrist
or tucked into his vest pocket
to be worshipped
or rebuffed
or excoriated
until his final breath
But the old oaks stand
unhurried by the numbers and chimes
moved only by the moon’s tides
and the sun’s chariot travels
from light into light into light
sweet fragrant haze
hovers over the old orchard
gnarled trees hang heavy
bowing to the glowing grace
of spring pollen and flower
nature’s mystical promise
of renewal and recreation
ripe and luscious
blushed fruit beckons and tempts
seduction of summer peaches
It’s a beautiful morning nearing the end of June – and the garden has gotten that lived in look.
The Columbine have gone to seed, the seed was harvested (could have used a combine they were so thick!) and the spent plants are cut back.
Now, mostly cool greens of different shades and textures will dominate the garden for the rest of the summer. But there will always be spots of color- and at the moment, the day-lilies are taking the stage. I love their form and sparkling colors – and we have one variety that gives the sweetest scent in the evening.
I have a few cosmos and larkspur showing up from seed broadcast last summer – one never knows what will or won’t do. And a friend planted love in the mist in her garden – so delicate and charming a plant – I will have to try those next year. (What?!! – already dreaming of next years garden!smiles)
I hope you are enjoying the beauty of summer in a garden – wishing you joy and peace – K
Is there anything nicer than a screened in porch in the summer?
We absolutely live on the porch – morning coffee to late night visits with the fireflies – it is a well used and well loved space.
I hope you have a perfect spot to relax and enjoy summer – cheers! K
The garden birdbath was a busy place this afternoon! We had many visitors taking a refreshing pause in the cool water.
I was so excited to see the bluebird couple – they have nested in our bluebird house on the old oak tree again this year. Must have taken a moment away from the rowdy chicks for a few moments alone!
The garden has a mind of its own this year – the columbine are a jungle of colorful blooms and lush green foliage – some have grown almost waist high!
The small dogwood trees are doing a great job of filling out and shading all the other plants. After losing our big saw tooth oak tree a couple of years ago, shade has been sorely missed and the garden suffered a bit because of it.
But now all is shady and cool and filled with chipmunk trails and faerie glades. Not too much rabbit damage this year. The hungry vixen has taken down that population to feed her kits. She and I came face to face this weekend. I was filling the hummingbird feeders early Saturday morning, when she popped over the rock ledge. Startled us both, but it was wonderful to see her and her foxy beauty – lean, with a gorgeous red coat. She trotted to the edge of the yard and went back to her den. Hope that she and her family will make this their permanent residence for a while.
The foxglove are blooming and the astilbe are beginning to fill out. The hosta look happy for the shade of the little trees. I will let the columbine seed pods dry and then harvest the seeds to share with friends and family.
I love sitting in the garden – watching the birds and the insects – the bumble bees are as busy as ever. The sound of the waterfall, rustling of leaves, dappled sun bouncing over the flowers – a soothing and relaxing space – filling my heart with spring.
I hope you have a quiet green space to visit and enjoy – and your heart is filled with spring too!
the arrogance of youth
seed tassels
wave
***
reflections, green and blue
spring puddles
rain
***
sing to the rising moon
trilling song
frogs
***
acclamation of doves
rises on
wings
***
color of heron wings
soft and gray
dusk
*** a 10 syllable form of micro poetry developed by Kelvin S. M. for the dVerse prompt.
will you sting?
‘not very likely’
as she busily bent to her work
cataloging the latin names
of each herb and flower
will you dance?
sniffing she glanced at me
‘each movement I make is dance
and each step will be danced
for my sisters and brothers
to follow the map
of my intricate steps”
will they sing?
with a sigh
‘each breath is a song
sung to ancestral hives
and honeycombed futures
humming hymns
sweet and low’
will you stay?
‘yes, yes is the answer
as long as alfalfa is green
and the almond
blush pink
and the wide world
opens its blossoms
welcoming us to enter”
Ahhh – the garden is filled with color and the bees busy at their tasks. Our iris have begun to bloom sending the old fashioned flags above the garden, stately with their strapping green leaves.
Iris always remind me of my grandmother, Albertine Nettie Savage Gresham, Teeney for short and Mam Ma to her grandchildren. She had iris on the slope of her yard in Waco, TX. The night air in May was filled with their fragrance. And they always seem to look like older ladies to me – with colorful scarves covering their well coiffed hair and smelling of sweet floral perfumes and powders.
The fringed pinks are blooming too – their scent of clove and spice mixing with the sweetness of the iris.
Our columbine are beginning to show signs of going to seed – their season is never long enough. And when they go to seed, my garden does too, until the husks are dry enough to harvest seed for friends and family and to broadcast the next generations into the garden. Then the dry stalks can be cut back to make way for summer flowers.
The heron watches over the pollywogs – will soon have tiny frogs to contend with along the path. Water brings its own magic into the May garden.
Hope you can find a little garden magic too.
thecourseofourseasons 