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!

Dry Days of Texas

08/03/22 Azle, Texas Two Trees before Sunrise

Drought

we’ve had

days and days of heat

and no rain,

sunrises both beautiful

in color and clarity

and dreadful

in early intensity.

we talk with the neighbors

over our fences -

of rain forecasts

and rising temperatures

and whether their air is working.

when we see birds gather

we might add a little ice to their bath,

or pour too much water on the aloe plant

where a fat toad burrows

in the hot afternoon.

we might sigh, as deer

chew the rosebushes,

resigned to the destruction

of a few plants

as we go back inside

feeling fragile

and

connected

August 1, 2022-August 8, 2022 I arrived in Texas at a particularly hot and dry time. Every morning it is necessary to get outside early here, if you want to get out at all. The temperatures are in the low 80s before sunrise; but it really feels cooler then, while there’s a breeze blowing and a little cloud cover. All of the animals are adapting to the drought and heat. At my mother’s house, a fat toad I nicknamed Tobias, spends his days buried in her aloe plant, and his evenings out looking for food. Mom waters the aloe more than it strictly needs, just to make sure he can stay cool.

August 4, 2022 Azle - Looking through the fence before sunrise

August 5, 2022 Azle Texas Spectacular Sunrise

August 6, 2022 South Side Fort Worth - Passion Flower and a happy bee

August 5 - 7, 2022 Walking around the south side of Fort Worth in the early mornings, the whole neighborhood is already awake. People are walking their dogs, watering their thirsty gardens, or just sitting on their covered porches drinking coffee and talking to the neighbors while the temperatures are still fairly pleasant in the low 80s. In a way, I find the prematurely dried flowers at least as beautiful as the ones that are getting enough water. There is something about the faded color and curling crisp edges …

Deer Season

Deer Season

every morning deer

leave the woods through my garden

on the way to the lake with their spotted fawns

every morning they pause

to nibble on the tall grass at the side of the drive

as the little ones gather around

every morning I see them

and I adjust the focus and aim of my camera

to capture

a little piece of their

wild souls

Sunday Morning

I stepped outside to turn the sprinkler on in the garden as she was walking through the yard. I startled her.  She hid behind a scraggly shrub in the woods,afraid, but still a little curious.She stopped there; still; and stared at me pointing my camera at her pretty face. Realizing (I hope) that I meant no harm, she walked away slowly into the woods.

Monday

I saw the babies outside through the window, three of them, chewing on the tall grass. I slowly and quietly picked up my camera, setting the exposure and focus distance based on a guess before opening the front door as silently as possible. Barefoot, I tiptoed out on the drive trying to stay out of sight. They saw me anyway.  They were not afraid.  The one in front even stamped his (her?) foot at me a few times. Then their mother came out of the woods and they dutifully followed her downthe unpaved road toward the lake.

Wednesday

I saw the mother first.  She turned and saw me and stood there so resolutely, I suspected the fawns were near.   She snuck a quick glance at the woods, and I knew I was right.  The first one stepped out awkwardly, looking back at his siblings, not noticing me.  Then the other two appeared.  One of them noticed his mother staring up the hill and followed her gaze, finding me.  The bold one, from Monday? Maybe.  He (she?) was very slow to break eye contact with me.  But eventually their mother encouraged them on; and I walked back to the house, letting them go without following.

I would like to learn how to identify them by their markings like the naturalists do. How do they do that? What varies?  I don’t even know how to tell if they’re male or female unless they have their antlers. I’d like to be able to differentiate them from each other; to know each one as an individual, follow them as they grow older.