Savor

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think. Lord Byron

Defining Savor

it is the walk of silence,

the fullness of air,

it is open-eyed -

it is waiting.

it is the leaf twirling

on the spider’s silken thread

in the dark green backdrop

of the wood

it is the the fog lifting

like a curtain,

revealing a deer

bowing its head

to taste a fallen branch

it is the spiraling frond of a fern

in the dewy green aftermath

of a thunderstorm -

it is in all of the senses

receiving,

it is in knowing

these are gifts

and remembering

to be grateful

mockingbird

At the beginning of 2023, a dear friend (Wendy Moore) chose a word for me to focus on this year: Savor. (Savor, Cambridge.org definition)

Halfway through the year, I wanted to come back around to how this word has enriched my life.

I have been walking through my days, looking for ways to savor my life. What I dwell on, it turns out, is what shapes my experience. One word, thoughtfully chosen, was a gift of light in a world where I could dwell so easily on darkness. I really can’t imagine receiving anything better, and I would love to pass it on.

To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.

Henry David Thoreau

Garlic Scapes from the farm market

Thank you for being here! See you next Friday.

Chasing Butterflies

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

Carl Sagan

Chasing Butterflies

Butterflies flitting nervously

over the sandy ground -

landing flying, landing flying

my heart can’t rest

as my eyes follow

the erratic movements

of their bodies

landing flying, landing flying

here on a stone,

there a stretch of sand-

then it’s another butterfly

that they can land by,

but that one won’t stay

and neither can I

when I can only catch up

in time to see them fly-

my heart can’t rest.

So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

William Shakespeare

The pictures were taken on Lake Michigan earlier this month on a warm sunny day. The butterflies are Tiger Swallowtails. Such beautiful creatures. They are in the same family of butterflies as the Monarch. They are called swallowtails because their forked tails resemble the tails of swallows (the birds). I wondered why I saw them on the beach instead of near a field or flowers. One explanation I saw was that male swallowtails do something called “puddling” - it’s one of the only times they gather in groups; they do it to sip water and obtain some necessary minerals.

I love butterflies, but I noticed when I was chasing after them to take pictures, I felt anxious. They usually move so quickly, barely resting on a spot before lifting off again. Just as you get them into the frame, they’re out of it. It reminded me of how my mind races sometimes when I have a lot of things to do. It races so much at times that I actually can’t do anything. I just run around starting things. Maybe the next time I feel that way, I will remember the butterflies and I will decide to land on just one task.

Thank you so much for being here! See you next week!

Last Dance of Spring

And since all this loveliness can not be Heaven, I know in my heart it is June.

Abba Louisa Goold Woolson

These little gifts of spring

green leaf and flower gold

Purple spikes and tall grass

I often pass -

until today

when my feet were slow,

and white blossoms

filled my quiet heart

with the grace of a season;

departing.

What an unusual spring we had. Fires in the north making the skies hazy and defusing the sunlight, very little rain, a mix of really hot and surprisingly cold days, and, at least where I live, an unusual abundance of wildlife.

I’ve had a little running injury this spring (now nearly healed) that slowed me down a bit and, in a way, I’m grateful. It gave me a chance to go on longer walks with my camera and take closeups of flowering and budding things. Even with the drier conditions, spring did not disappoint. I was especially drawn to the wild growing things, like the vine twisting over the road at the beginning of this post, the tall grass flowering in an empty lot, or the black-eyed susan and daisy, growing by the guardrails. I think I love them for their tenacity; their beauty rising even in unfavorable conditions.

I hope you had a wonderful week and had a chance to mark the summer solstice in some way on Wednesday, even if just in an acknowledgement that it happened. As I’m writing this, I just realized that there are a couple of you that actually are on the other side of the planet, heading into winter. Either way, seasons are changing. I’m happy you’re here with me! Thank you for your time and attention.

See you next week!