Gardening Glow

Finally! A bright, sunny day! We’ve had so much rain lately, and there hasn’t been much inspiration or sunshine to even go walking, let alone take pictures.

I grabbed the opportunity one dry morning and walked, admiring all my neighbors’ landscaping and planting efforts. These are my favorite photos among those I took.

There are a fair amount of gardeners here who know what they’re doing with perennials and shrubs. They plant creatively and with great timing so there is always something blooming throughout the summer. I consider this a true art.

What I also appreciate is the appearance of entire gardens growing wild, even though how these areas are planted, in most cases, was carefully planned.

I did a fair amount of gardening at the first house I moved into on this side of the state, almost entirely with annuals. Admittedly, it looked very pretty, and complemented many perennials already in place, but my humble efforts still left me in “aspiring gardener” status (in my opinion.)

Cheers to all the gardeners in my neighborhood and beyond for their contribution to making this world a lovelier place.

Music Makes It Better

It can’t make it all better, but it definitely does make it better.

In the morning, when I settle down to do some follow-up on my recent posts on Instagram; add a couple stories; check in and read recent updates of those I follow; it is largely a very positive experience. Often, in these meanderings, I find new music, posted through one avenue or another.

It’s hard these days to read much, though, without running headlong into posts on IG or Threads of the chaos that is consuming this country. It’s deeply disturbing, beyond saddening. And then I came across this song, Sand Drawing. A beautiful respite.

Judah Earl is a young American composer, arranger, and producer. He plays the cello, and in this song has woven in strains of calm and peace, a refuge from the daily assaults we are now subjected to. I dare say that it has something almost holy about it.

Music somehow always makes it better. I know, because a lifetime of leaning on its shoulders, bowing my head into notes that are timeless, tell me so.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.”
~ Osho

Making It Worth It

I feel like I’m pretty safe in saying that anyone reading this post is at a point in life that if it’s worth doing at all, we want to make it worth it.

Please use your imagination and forgive the “sketch-like” appearance of the above image I created. I had a great school visit last week, and in all the excitement with the kids, we forgot to take any photos.

A school visit will always include a reading of one’s book, Q and A at the end, and some information for the children related to the book. In my case, I have discussed identifying butterflies, facts about them, plus information on the importance of pollinators, to which butterflies belong.

But it all wasn’t exciting ME. What would make ME excited about doing this book visit with “Butterflies”? What did I need to share that would have more value?

What could the story and the butterflies themselves teach? Now I had it!

Three takeaways: Use your imagination, based on our discussing Stella’s amazing interpretation of a butterfly’s appearance; always be kind to animals, based on advising kids never to touch a butterfly’s wings, lest it lose scales and be unable to fly; and embrace change, because life is full of changes, and we can be like the butterfly fighting its way out of the chrysalis, saying, “I can do this”, and “this change will make me stronger.”

Above are the 8.5″ x 11″ placards I made. The takeaways had the attention of these 6-8 year olds. And me.

Life isn’t getting any longer here. I feel a greater need to make whatever I do matter. Especially now. More than ever, we need our compassion and humanity not only intact, but strengthened. I hope I did that for a couple of those kids.

Meandering in A Confused World

One of my small daily pleasures each morning once I’ve fed Charlie and made my coffee is to sit by the living room window and do two things – a perusal of Instagram, a gathering if you will, of positive words, thoughts and images (occasionally my own work), and then sharing them in my Stories. Then I journal to clear out the cobwebs, sort out my challenges, put to paper my joys and angst … whatever the day calls for.

While on IG, I always hope that whoever stops by gains some benefit from what I post. We know, vaguely, how the algorithms work; you get more of what you like (almost a corollary of karma, right?), and therefore, I find vast amounts of insight, positivity, and beauty. Some mornings, when I open the app, I am greeted with exactly what I need to know for that day. Because I do believe the Universe works that way.

Sometimes I share things like this, courtesy of @spiritualgoal –

Sometimes I post things I’ve been doing, like the gecko drawing above, or how I’ve redesigned my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition. (You can read that in detail here.)

But mostly, I’m sharing insights, inspiration, and the beauty of life.

Inevitably, while I scroll, I come across other things, often in Threads, about our current political circumstances. And sometimes, I drop in and read, because most of what’s really happening is on social nowadays, not the mainstream media. I find life – mental and emotional life – is a balancing act of trying to remain informed and at the same time, keeping my sanity.

It’s why the positivity is so important. Knowing, remembering, how important we are in the larger scheme of things. Even just being centered and loving in this world is a huge contribution. Holding the place of love.

And sometimes I create my own memes. This one’s for you. Just keep holding that light up high.

Home …

Home is such an important place. A place to just be yourself, to relax, a refuge, a place to foster growth, a cocoon of dreams, an inspiration of life, a place to heal, and so much more.

April is National Poetry Month, so I’m offering this lovely poem by Christopher Marlowe.

Song for A Little House

I’m glad our house is a little house,
Not too tall nor too wide.
I’m glad the hovering butterflies
Feel free to come inside.

Our little house is a friendly house.
It is not shy or vain;
It gossips with the talking trees,
And makes friends with the rain.

And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
Against our whited walls,
And in the phlox, the courteous bees
Are paying duty calls.
– Christopher Marlowe

But home is not just the structure itself; it is also the place, the neighborhood, the city, the town. They’re all part of “home.” And so, a few more photos of my home, as spring comes slowly into bloom. Above, the trees, just beginning to green up, and their late afternoon shadows accompany me on my walk along the river to the bridge.

Looking north, life is just awakening from slumber. This sentinel, which has steadfastly looked over the river for the 19 years I’ve lived here and much longer, is now showing the most shy of buds.

Crossing the Delaware River to Pennsylvania, where the blush of green in the trees is heartening.

Forsythia in bloom around one of our many turn-of-the-century homes, with the Chestnut Hill B`n B just behind.

Home is where we walk, where we become, and who we are for however long we stay.