Interesting tree. It's calling to me.
It's a lady, trapped in the tree.
There are mushrooms in the garden. I'm guessing it's because I just had the garden beds dressed with nice organic mulch.
I’ll bet they are delicious and perfectly safe, but no way am I going to test that theory by eating them. There are certain lessons which were hammered into my head as I was growing up in Poughkeepsie, NY:
- Don't eat mushrooms in the wild.
- Never ever try heroin.
- Don't have sex until you are married.
You know what they say: Two outta three ain't bad. :-)
I found this chimney swift on my dining room floor. Is there a message in this? I have felt a very strong connection with birds this past year, believing them to be spirit guides, here to escort me through the minefield of cancer treatments; here to keep me safe and help me prevail. Birds have been very close ever since last June when I was diagnosed with lung cancer. In recent weeks (months?) I have had a few experiences of seeing birds bid me farewell. Seeing them say their job is done, I don't need them to be such close-by chaperones, I'm going to be okay. And I've wondered: is that true?
So, dear Swift, did you come to give me a message? What does your death mean? Is it about transition? Your energy has moved on. It may be the end of a cycle for the birds and me ... a door closes and a window opens. The wisdom imparted by "my" birds, the lessons learned these past months, will not be forgotten. And I'm pretty certain my lovely feathered spirit guides will always be here with me when I need them.
This was my father’s old iron lantern and it was in our back yard when I was a kid. Daddy loved his garden and "the Japanese lantern" seemed to play a special role on nights when he would light a candle inside it and we would sit in near darkness, enjoying the flickering illumination of our own private space. I don't know if the lantern actually is Japanese; my father spent some time in Korea before I was born, so maybe it came home with him when he returned. It has been a part of my garden for the last forty years or so and I am now more attached to it than ever. I was startled, in a pleasant sort of way, to see a similar one in Jude's yard. It's nice to run into a distant relative when you least expect it.
But it seems so odd to me that my father has been gone for more than forty years. That's such a long time. And my mother - I think it's been about thirteen years, but I still feel like she died recently.
Lily says: Good night and sweet dreams.