Farewell Miss Collar

She was loved, a one human cat her entire life.

Back into the blue asters we wander.

Back into the earth that made us.

Down to the Great Lawn where the earth is deep and soft.

Farewell Miss Collar. You were loved with a posh life in the forest. There can be a memorial fire on another day. I need more sticks. They will fall, and the weather is turning cooler.

Button and Dinah had a chance to say goodbye. Then they ventured down for the burial.

Through the looking glass

That is where you will find her.

They buried cats with the Pharaohs.

Back into the blue waters.

Into the firepit bindi of Creation. 

Then the sticks fell in a mighty blow and the power went out for over twelve hours before I could finish the post. There will be sticks to pick up. Lots of sticks and branches.

Farewell Miss Collar. Into the blue asters we wander.

There Was A Mowing

At dusk there is time to go for a walk.

Into the civilized wild.

Aralia cordata 'Sun King'.

Angelica gigas is now homed.

Down to the Great Lawn

It draws me down

To rest and reflect

On the permutations of time

Wandering on paths mowed into the wild

When the colors and texture come alive in the gloaming.

It Is Done

Some of it anyway. There are a lot of paths and edges out there.

Today was my gardens turn. It is the perfect time for a good mowing as the Tall Flower Meadow goes in to full bloom.

Shall we go for a stroll in a freshly mowed garden? The meadow is feeling quite civilized.

This has been an exceptional bloom year in the meadows.

Then I realized, nothing has been squashed yet. The pestilence has been subdued,

The Great Lawn

Now mowed.

This is where my ashes go. I hope. Swirling down the drain.

I'll have sky lights.

This is a pretty good record of how I keep things mowed during the Lush period and the actual layout of the grounds should anyone ever be curious to know how to find the garden.

It might not be readily discernable shortly after I am gone.

In the hiss of a summer lawn.

A meadow begins high bloom.

Pedal on.

The Other Lawn

While I was mowing the parking lot one evening last week it dawned on me that I have another lawn.

It is in the land of the dung piles, the overflow squash department.

Actually it is the intended house pad. The cozy cabin was built on the edge of the slope so that in the future another 2 bedroom house could be built. The septic to allow that is installed.

With each passing day that possibility gets more remote for me. Another house will have to be in someone else's future.

This large space has been morphing into a lawn. This much level ground should not be wasted on lawn. What to do with the house pad in the meantime? 

As one might imagine some gardening has happened down slope around the perimeters. All kinds of things came up when the hemlocks came down and I have been editing for what I like. Magnolia fraseri was a keeper and there are as many as a dozen.

A grove of Devil's Walking Stick, Aralia spinosa came up and I waived my no thorns rule. I may have planted a Dawn Redwood - not doing so well - Styrax, Japanese Snowbell and a taller Fargesia bamboo down in there as well. All that flat ground is surrounded by an extension of the wild cultivated gardens.

And in my decrepitude there is the notion of starting a little nursery and propagating plants to supplement my meager gubmint check. That is a possibility I could start right now. Then I thought of all the work involved to get that set up. On another day perhaps.

A Good Mowing

A two day weekend in the gardening season is not that common. I needed one. To do whatever I felt like doing and nothing more. I did it outside.

Wandering quietly for hours.

There was no pressing need. The paths were fine. I just felt a desire for some tidy in the rapidly expanding Lush of early summer.

So I mowed a bit over the course of two days that saw countless other odds and ends attended to in the garden.

There was time

To experience my own garden.

How did I get to this wild place?

When I think of all the maintenance that needs doing in the gardens I tend, to wander outside slowly, to edit a bit should a thought arise, to let everything else just be, feels liberating.

I am not in charge. How did I get to this wild place?

Where freshly mowed paths are all the tidy it takes to wander out there undistracted from an amazing garden bursting with life. How did I get to this wild place in the in-between time?