Blue sky on water
there is now no turning back
a miracle is doubtful
remorse is not an option
time is only one journey
a step into deep, clear water
reflecting cool under summer
blue sky around her ankles
two steps and
already she is half way there
off on another adventure
where questions are answered
and purpose revealed
the light shines on her face
as she walks across the water
to uncover the mystery
and maybe just see her father.
This poem is in response to the prompt at One Single Impression this week — “Blue”. Thanks to all the fine poets who gather there and contribute each week. This photo (click to enlarge) was taken in southwestern MT a couple weeks ago by our friend Bill Carroll of Colfax, WA. Thank you so much, Bill!
Note: I am losing a dear friend of many years to cancer and this piece I decided needed to be written to myself in a manner as one would explain death to a child. It’s a draft of a poem really, and one I will come back to eventually and work with later. The first verse I began to write as a tanka but then extended the piece adhering to the simple and succinct. It is hardly worthy of the subject but this is what my heart can understand at the moment.
Is this an Aster? The mystery flower of the week is this plant which has been coming up from seed in my garden for many years. I vaguely remember them as being Asters. They are late bloomers. However, my volunteer asters are much earlier than are their cousins. It is always a wonder to me how many variations on a theme there are in the plant world. One could arrange an entire garden just with various Mums and Asters, but you’d have to wait awhile for the color!
I started this much smaller variety of Aster out front from a package last spring labeled as Asters. This is not quite the same flower but the leaf is similar. The new plant is just now beginning to bloom. I was delighted to see that they are tinged and variegated. I have enjoyed the colors very much. See my secretive green pepper in the background?
Our son Alasdair has been pet-sitting the next door neighbor’s Husky female whose name is Nattie. Nattie is a sweet dog and very fond of walks and crepes’. I made crepes’ the other day and fed her a cast off. I had to ration it out to her because she was pretty darn enthusiastic. I thought: that is a very rich food for a dog; so she did not get it all at once. I’m afraid I have become the crepe’ lady to Nattie. Nattie was here nearly two weeks this month and her owner had to go out of town again today; we were glad to have her back since we’ve never had a dog of our own. The cats are not amused but Nattie is a very polite visitor and never barks at them. Despite Nattie’s impeccable doggie manners Tartan and Zoe go through their share of hissing and sputtering. OMG! Did you know that a DOG has taken up residence on the porch? What are you thinking? *sigh* The cats can just chill.
Nattie likes to have fresh breath so here she is foraging around in the oregano and mint. She was actually eating it. Hmmm are Huskies Italian?
Speaking of oregano and Italian, it is finally time for fresh tomatoes! Here below are my cherry tomatoes. We’ve been eating on the golden tomatoes already. Yum!
Family fun on the lake with Aly and Sara
PLUS Ian sporting his new engineer’s cap (but sadly minus his sweetie Caitlin) ~~~EQUALS
Lots of laundry? Well, yes there was that too. No, lots of joy! I am a happy Mom with such smiling faces all around me. Ian is now back to his first day of college classes. Ian and Caitlin: have a wonderful year!
Courteous grape vine
at dusk courts a moody sky
may I have this dance?
Please allow yourself to join us at One Single Impression this week. Thanks to all the poets who contribute their fine work.
In times of trouble or turmoil conspiracy theories fly furiously on both sides of the political aisle. Here is an article from The Economist and some insight into this historical and possibly dangerous trend in our nation’s culture. Well worth a read if you have time.
“Belief in conspiracy theories can be comforting. If everything that goes wrong is the fault of a secret cabal, that relieves you of the tedious necessity of trying to understand how a complex world really works. And you can feel smug that you are smart enough to “see through” the official version of events. But widespread paranoia has drawbacks.”
Here is a photo for my blogging friends Barb and Deborah. Red Raven on Yellow Bay. Yellow Bay is on the east shore of Flathead (about 16 miles from Polson on Highway 35) which is also where the Biological Research station resides for the University of Montana. The Peninsula you see jutting out in the photo is actually part of the research station’s parcel of land. Last January, during a very bad winter windstorm, Yellow Bay lost numerous large, Ponderosa Pines which either snapped off or fell over into the water. They are still cleaning up the debris and damage. The lake is not always quiet even in the summer and often the water will suddenly turn treacherous for boaters who are not watching the weather.
At times on quiet waters one does not speak aloud but only in whispers, for then all noise is sacrilege.
An evening shot at Yellow Bay on Flathead Lake looking southwest where we took a picnic and our canoe a couple days ago for a late summer’s outing. See SWF for more sky shots on a global scale.
This is the buck my cousin’s husband, Mike Brewington of Vancouver, WA caught on camera – the photo I referred to in my last post about the reunion. Here is a link to Mike’s photo gallery if you care to see more wildlife photos or a variety of interesting images. Thank you, Mike! Please click to enlarge for higher content.
~ Here we sit waiting at the border two weekends ago watching the Harley bikes and cars snake painstakingly forward. We waited an hour and a quarter at a crossing which used to be a three minute deal at the border into BC. That’s progress alright. The Canadians didn’t appear to be that interested in us or in anyone in particular, but they only had one booth open to process miles of vehicles. Come on people; give someone else a job. It was worse when we came back – there were twice as many cars backed up, but the American side was a 10 minute wait. All the photos enlarge, i.e., to get a better view of some biker-lady’s backside and cool chaps.
Up at the reunion we prepared our own meals with several family members acting as kitchen crew. My cousin Arletta is head chef and over all comptroller. She did a great job, I might add. We had to use the cookware provided: cooking on historically medieval, metal works …. some of the pans and pots had been forged from ancient knightly and squire’s helmets; I’m sure of it! Polly, put the kettle on!
My auntie Donna and a distant cousin hard at work while my Dad acts as referee in a heated game of dominoes. I had to leave them to it; it was too high stakes and way to much pressure to deal with. *wink*
Outside it had just rained and the Indian Paintbrush was abundant.
One of the items we always pick up when we travel north is apple and pear cider. This type is very crisp and not sweet.
A glimpse into the forest there on top of Crow’s Nest Pass. My cousin’s husband caught a very large buck on camera just that morning. Last year I heard there were no walks allowed because of a bear with cubs. The year before that we saw a moose. Here the forest is queen.
My uncle Duane singing Two Little Girls in Blue which always makes me cry. He is a cowboy poet and has been riding the circuit for a number of years after retiring from the farm. He knows hundreds, if not more, ballads and old time songs.