There are so many wonderful quotes by Rumi, a 13th Centure Persian mystic and poet. Here’s one I hope enlightens your day.
Life
The Walk After Hurricane Ida
Hurricane Ida, Sept. 1, 2021, had devastating effects on many parts of this country, my state of New Jersey, my county, and my little town. From the flash flooding of our local creek and the 10″ of water that fell in 3-4 hours on already soaked land, our little downtown was under water up to a man’s waist.
I am deeply grateful that my house did not take on water, and after a few falters, the power stayed on. Friday, I wanted to take a walk and see what the Delaware looked like and how some small part of my little town had fared.
The day was bright and sunny, and everything looked as if there had never been a devastating storm barely over a day ago. Gardens were overflowing with perennials of every kind and looking lovely. Our area isn’t real big on formal landscaping, just filled with life. I felt relieved.
Through the trees, you could glimpse the river, a sunlit brown and green, rushing downstream.
Flowers and plants were in full bloom, edging quietly towards fall.
There was such a profusion of life; I could hardly imagine the destruction that I’d seen on the news of so many areas not that far from where I live.
A cover of stormy grey clouds provided a momentary canopy over the Delaware River. The water had reached 8′ above flood stage just the morning before, and even though receding, it had enveloped tree trunks all along its banks. And still, as always, it was stunning.
A shallow shoreline of stones where the tree roots were always visible, gone.
An abundance of sweet-smelling honeysuckle climbing over everything. With the brilliant blue sky behind, it seemed some sort of miracle.
Snowball hydrangea changing into their late summer green phase still evidenced some fresh white blooms, in denial of the coming fall, and the crisp, dry temperatures.
When these cataclysmic events happen, we can easily get overwhelmed with the news, with the images of destruction, knowing in our hearts how much people are suffering in the face of life-changing events … in some cases, the loss of loved ones. I didn’t go into town, not knowing what I might find. And what could I do? So I remained in gratitude for the safety with which I and most of my town had been graced. And tried to find the balance in beauty.
Hoping this finds you all safe and well.
The Mantis and the Books
Yes, two different subjects. Remember that very young praying mantis I had shared a few posts ago? She was hanging out on my kitchen window screen, looking just adorable, as all babies do. Well, I went out my kitchen/back porch door the other day, and who do you think was there waiting for me? That little mantis all grown up. Can I be sure it’s the same one? Possibly not, but she’s the right color and in the same area as the youngster.
Mantises are very brave creatures. They don’t run when giants approach. I spoke to her very softly, and came down on my knees to take her photo, making no fast moves. As you can see, she remained very calm, and did not assume her praying, pre-attack position. She cocked her head this way and that as I spoke to her, having no need to defend herself. They are such fascinating insects, so alien looking, and immensely powerful in their ability to catch their prey. They can take on small birds and frogs, but are generally most beneficial in the garden where they eat pests. (I say “she”, by the way, because females are longer than males, and she is the greater length.)
And in other news, book news, here are two excellent reads:
The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton – With an exquisite use of the language, Kate Morton tells a tale that spans multiple generations over a century, from the early 1900’s to 2005. It is at once a mystery of family origins, but carefully weaves in loss, duplicity, family dysfunction, even a murder, and a real sense of place in Brisbane, Australia, and London and Cornwall in the UK. It begins with the question as to why a 4-year-old child has been abandoned and sits alone on a wharf in Brisbane with a small, white suitcase. There is not a chapter doesn’t end in a real page turner and new revelation. It is not the shortest book I’ve read, but once you begin, you’ll be so invested, you won’t even notice. It’s a great piece of historical fiction. And fairy tales … did I mention there is an Authoress who writes fairy tales?
Truly, Madly, Guilty by Liane Moriarty (You may know her from Big, Little Lies) is also a mystery, but takes place in current day. It is a character study of sorts of three families whose lives intertwine over just a few days, beginning with the lead up to “The Day of the Barbecue”. Moriarty keeps you on the edge of your seat as you plunge forward wondering what this tragedy could possibly be, and I assure you, it’s one you will never expect.
The balance of the book brings you deeper into the minds of those involved, until you find a quietly stated but chilling conclusion at the end. An excellent read.
What I found interesting on a personal note is that I chose both books on the recommendations of two friends, each of whom has a good idea of my reading tastes. And each book is by an Australian author, and takes place in Australia, the home of Ethicool, the publisher of my forthcoming book. No coincidences, I say.
Brunch at the Lovin’ Oven
This morning was a space of wonderful normalcy. My friend and I went down to Frenchtown to have brunch at a favorite restaurant, Lovin’ Oven. They serve the most consistently delicious food at truly reasonable prices, and sourced as much as possible from local farms.
Eating outside felt so safe and comfortable – tables well-distanced, staff wearing masks, and menus available through a QR code on little cards on the table.
I’ve been a fan of Lovin’ Oven from when I first moved into my little town fifteen years ago. They were located just a few blocks away, right next to the Delaware River, in a turn-of-the-century Victorian house. It was kind of crowded, but totally charming, and the kitchen, tiny. At some point, they moved to Frenchtown in much more spacious quarters, part of a converted warehouse.

What stayed the same in the move is the wonderful staff, always smiling, considerate, and kind, and, of course, the fabulous food which includes plenty of vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free. Putting aside for the moment that I don’t eat meat, there is rarely anything on the Lovin’ Oven menu that I wouldn’t eat. How many places can you say that about?

It was a huge amount of food, and I already knew I’d be taking half of it home, especially if I might be considering dessert (yes, at that hour of the morning – too good to pass up.)

My friend chose the vegan taco which was as wonderful as its presentation. She, too, took half of this mound of food home for later consumption.
Another plus here is that they bake all their own delicious treats right there on the premises in small batches. Not for those watching their weight or sugar, but for every now and then, do we really care? The little shelf pictured above sits over the refrigerated case which holds such wonders as Key Lime Pie, Caramel Nut Tart, or what I had … pictured below.

When my peanut butter pie arrived, I was honestly so excited I forgot all about photographing it! So I borrowed this from Lovin’ Oven’s Facebook page which I doubt the owner – who now knows me for 15 years – would mind. What a dream of a pie.
I am so happy that this restaurant made it through the pandemic. Julie developed a takeout menu for 3 times a week, and all the loyal LO fans came and kept them afloat. Coming back when they could actually, physically, open again was like old home week. Staff and diners all greeted one another like long lost friends.
I think when you’re are doing the right thing for the right reason you’ll make out OK. And I think they are proof of that. They just do everything right. It’s always a pleasure to be there. Glad we all got to see you on the other side. And thanks.
Little Bright Spots
This past June was the hottest on record in the United States. July saw the issuance of multiple tornado warnings in my state, one specifically for my town and the surrounding areas. Never in my life here in Jersey, have I ever had to seriously sequester myself and animals in either the basement or lowest interior space in the house (my chosen option), in response to serious tornado warnings. And they did hit, too, just, fortunately for me, not here.
But let’s look on the bright side, because there always is one.
One of two dwarf red maples on the property, this one is more a deep bronze than a shade of red. Unless, of course, you’re a little newbie sprout. This close-up doesn’t tell you how tiny the new leaves are in comparison to the whole, which is huge. But it might tell you why it brings a smile every time I look at it.
One morning, I looked out my kitchen window and saw something indiscernible in between two of the ornamental grasses out back. It looked like a face. Oh …. it WAS a face. The face of a very young (and adorable) deer holding very still but just about ready to chow down on a hosta. I went down the porch stairs to gently shoo her away. Maybe only 4-5 months old, she easily cleared the nearly 4′ garden gate. As I returned, I saw she had been on my porch, and had eaten the front half of the impatiens above and a few other potted plants. It’s discouraging, but that little wide-eyed face holding soooo still, trying to be invisible …
For some reason, this pretty pair was spared, and is now starting to bloom.
There are snowball hydrangeas all over this property. They bloom snow white, and are now in their green phase, to turn a stunning rust as the summer wears on, and it becomes cooler.
Hello, little fella. This very young praying mantis greeted me one morning on a kitchen window screen. Soon after, he disappeared. But he hadn’t gone very far, I later discovered. It was turning out to be a very hot afternoon, but I managed to find myself a little time to sit on the back porch and read while there was still some shade nearest the house. And there he was. Not far from me on the decking, in the very hot, bright sun.
I thought to make his way a little easier by moving him into the shade. I offered him a large hydrangea leaf to climb on, as I didn’t want to handle and frighten him. He very calmly walked right over the leaf, and into the shadow of the railing. “Thanks, ma’am, but I’ve got this,” I imagined he said as he found his own shade. And then over the next half hour or so, he slowly made his way across the length of the porch and disappeared.
All I could think of was that that must be what `biological imperative’ means. He knew where he was going and what he had to do, because at the other end of the porch is where I often see adult green praying mantises, like the one next to Pumpkin in a photo from a few years ago.
I know for myself, and most everyone I know, that the last year and change has had a lingering impact in one way or another. And yet, we find, there are still always bright spots. Hope you keep finding yours.





















