In The Sunlight Of Thunderstorms

I keep getting phone calls complaining about the rain.

It is only happening out here. Every afternoon and evening thunderstorms have been rolling through. The world is wet and steamy.

The roadside vegetable garden is responding and setting fine produce.

I have harvested green beans, cucumbers, a few banana peppers, the first ripe tomato and yellow and scalloped squash.

I wander into wet gardens in between showers rather exhausted, at barely an amble.

In town it is another matter. There hasn't been that much rain. The gardens I tend are all on the dry side. It is only raining out here every day. 

It is lush and starting to bloom in the sunlight between thunderstorms.

I liked the final resting place of Reason. I did not like the contrast between wild rocks and cut marble stone in the view from above. More betta. Reason got a chapeau of moss to blend in. No need to wait for the moss to find reason. I got plenty moss in all this wet. Rest in peace my friend.

I work all day in the hot steam, dripping.

And come home to passing showers too tired to move much further. It works out perfect. The wild cultivated garden is doing just fine without me. I take editing notes for a time when movement beyond an amble returns. 

The Death of Reason

I found reason in a grove of mulberry trees in the back yard of a rental house in Gainesville, Florida around 1977 or so. I always knew it was part of the human condition. Reason reminded me of that. I could not just leave him there abandoned and forgotten.

Reason is not a given of the human condition. It can die. The time has come for Reason to have a well-deserved final resting place after all these years.   

In the company of moving stones

And heiaus

Is this the place? I am not convinced just yet. It will do for now or longer. Somewhere in the garden, reason needs a final resting place, a place to be safe until the next disturbance when someone finds reason in the forest.

Into The Lush With Angels

Round and round

I am an old human

Named after my father

The wild garden I planted

Grows all on its own

Make me an angel

That flies me to Eden

Make me a garden

That is ready to show

Dreams are like lightning

Thunder is desire

This mountain top garden

Rumbles with both when it gets mowed

The garden grows older

There is much more to look at

Some free ramblin' Angelica 

Has decided to settle in

Just give me one thing

That I can hold on to

To believe in this livin'

Is the only thing I know

Make me an angel

That flies me to Eden

Make me a garden 

That is ready to show

There is fly poison in the meadow

The maintenance gardener is twitching

He's been out there mowing

Since he woke up today

Just give me one thing

I can hold on to

To believe in this livin'

Is the only thing I know

With gratitude and apologies to Bonnie Raitt and John Prine

Bonnie has been singing to me the last couple of weeks out there in the Lush

I want to retire

To spend more time in my own garden

There is a short way to go

Dreams are like lighting

There is a thundering desire

Round and round

I am an old human

Named after my father

There is a short time to go

A Couple Of Lilies Before Joe Pye

A neighbor brought me a big box of Turk's Cap Lilies a couple months ago. One of them actually managed to bloom after the transplanting. It was always on my list to go dig some from deep in the forest for the garden and I never got around to it. It was nice to have half the job done as a sweet gift.

A lily bulb that fell out of the ground from somewhere escaped the usual spring freeze and managed to bloom this year. Yesterday it was white. Today it is pink.

The Liatris is in full bloom as Joe Pye forms flower heads. Summer moves on along.

A Walk Among Flowers On Bloom Day

I wake up in the morning to the vaporous stench of Voodoo

And come home in the evening to a Lemon Drop perfume.

There are flowers out there for a Bloom Day stroll. I'm going to try and focus on the flowers. I have gotten bad about that in favor of the soft-focus thematic view.

Liatris. They have called it Gayfeather.

Flowers are sprinkled like glitter all over the place.

Monarda the Beebalm

Purple Coneflower with Gooseneck Loosestrife and a big bee.

Lots and lots of daylily about. Not enough to satisfy some people.

Lucifer Crocosmia

A meadow swimming in red Beebalm.

In the early evening sun.

Plenty Daylilies.

Dill and a red truck.

Purple phlox

The Liatris has been self-sowing. I found a huge patch of it across the byway up the hill in the neighbor's land.

Blackberry Lily

The Oak Leaf Hydrangea has a pungently sweet scent.

The wand of Black Cohosh in the forest.

The Shredded Umbrella Leaf in bloom.

Rudbeckia fulgida is all over the place.

Lavendar Beebalm.

Fly Poison

The sweet fragrance of lillies join in.

It's all out there in the wild cultivated gardens.