aren’t they?

“The eyes of the future are looking back at us and they are praying for us to see beyond our own time. They are kneeling with hands clasped that we might act with restraint, that we might leave room for the life that is destined to come. To protect what is wild is to protect what is gentle. Perhaps the wilderness we fear is the pause between our own heartbeats, the silent space that says we live only by grace. Wilderness lives by this same grace. Wild mercy is in our hands.”

~ Terry Tempest Williams, Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place

p.s. the blog will be quiet for a week, as my sister helen and i are in rhode island, meeting our new twin nephews. happy happy happy.

last monday evening, my sister and pup and i went to lily pond – a public boat launch on the houghton canal – to cool off before bed. (when the temperature is high, 10pm is the perfect time for a swim.)

it was so fun jumping off the dock into the canal. i felt like a little kid. atlas deigned to join us, but he did walk partway down the boat ramp afterward to get a drink of water.

(i don’t know why it’s called lily pond. maybe it’s near a lily pond? back in the day, whenever my cousins came to town, they’d swim at lily pond. i never joined them. i thought it was a lily pond and i preferred the lake. clearly i missed out!)

everything reaches toward the light.

atlas says: i will drink from the lake, but i will not swim in it. just because i am now willing to let my belly touch the water does not mean that i have changed my mind about this. i am resolved.

elizabeth says: on monday, a kind stranger held atlas’s leash while i swam. she said that when i went under, he had a very furrowed brow. he did not, however, seem inclined to come in after me. still, i remain hopeful.

“Against a dark sky all flowers look like fireworks. There is something strange about them, at once vivid and secret, like flowers traced in fire in the phantasmal garden of a witch.”

~ G.K. Chesterton, Alarms and Discursions

my mother asked me to take care of her rose bushes for a bit.

i have never liked roses, their scent or their appearance, even after years in the rose city. still, i was happy to help. (it was a chance to play gardener.)

after a morning walk with the pup, i found the trimming shears, took off my sandals, and settled in among the roses.

as i trimmed the dead and dying roses so the plant would flower again, i couldn’t help but marvel at them.

the flowers were varying shades of pink: pale pink to deep rose. the petals were soft to the touch.

the roses that were past their prime had a brown tint around the edge and the entire flower seemed loose and floppy. when i brushed against a dying rose, its petals fell to the ground like a gentle spring shower.

the air around the rose bush vibrated with the buzz of yellow & black bumblebees. we worked together, their bodies and my fingers circling each other in a simple dance.

from time to time, i paused in my work because my flower was already occupied.

i’d watch the bumblebee move slowly and clumsily around the yellow pollen. when it was done, it would lift off and fly over to a new flower while i snipped the stem of the rose it had already tasted, just below the petals.

as the rose fell at my feet, i’d wonder if the bumblebee noticed it was gone.

an hour later, the soles of my feet were black, the earth was carpeted in pink, and i was in love with roses.

later that afternoon, i read a line in the book the shack that seemed to explain everything.

“so many believe that it is love that grows, but it is the knowing that grows and love simply expands to contain it. love is just the skin of knowing.”

i now know roses as the wonder that they are, and i am delighted to have made their acquaintance.

one. a gift.

this image is my computer background. it makes me so happy that i want you to have the image too.

click the image to see the full-size version. right-click + download the linked file to use as you wish. (in full size, you can see a tiny black bug on the daisy. it looks like it is hanging on for dear life.)

two. a sale.

a need inspired me with the idea for a midsummer sale. through this weekend, most everything i offer has a special price. i invite you to wander around the curio cabinet; perhaps there is something that calls to you.

while it is indeed true that you need beauty + wonder + magic, it is also true that i have nothing you need, only things that are a delight + a pleasure.

(here’s what i am delighting in today: wonder + whimsy filled stories that fly swiftly + easily into your email inbox; postcards from the wild, full of wisdom & full of wonder; and yellow roman candles, a photo series depicting a tiny unforgettable moment of magic.

for you, with love.

here, i am learning the art of flower arranging after reading a how-to article that made it seem both logical + learnable in a magazine at my grandparents’ house.

this is an excellent way to practice imperfection. my bouquets never look the way i envision them and i am usually less than satisfied. this is partly because i am using wildflowers; the wildflowers that grow in profusion are tiny and ideally i’d have a few large blooms for contrast.

here, my adventures in wildcrafting continue. last month, i made red clover lemonade and red clover tea.

the red clover tea was good. the red clover lemonade was ok. at least, that was my verdict on the lemonade until i realized i hadn’t made lemonade at all. somehow, i forgot to add the lemon and only realized it when the lemonade iced tea was almost gone.

here, the strawberries are ripening. i am hoping to gather enough wild strawberries for a shortcake. or at least for my breakfast.

here, the fourth of july weekend was full of small-town celebration. there were fireworks, a bbq, art at first friday, ice cream cones, the milkman’s jamboree, blueberry pie, and family, including adult time with a childhood cousin and her husband.

there was also a swim in the lake – my first for the year. i didn’t duck – i just couldn’t get my head underwater – but i certainly swam. after much balking + squealing while standing waist-deep in the water, i paddled around for a bit and then shivered my way to shore.

when i reflect on my days, they seem so simple, and yet they feel so full + rich.

here, i am counting my (simple + beautiful) blessings.

a wordless weimaraner wednesday.