I hope you are doing well, wherever you are.
I’m sitting in the garden as I write this, having done chores inside and outside, and exercised.
In the garden, I’ve been “deadheading” – which sounds macabre, I know. Dead heads of flowers are cut and thrown n the slope below the garden in my vain hope that I will get phlox and bee balm growing “wild” next spring.
It’s calm here and the main sounds are from a variety of birds and a fountain. I love those sounds and realize they are among the outdoors things I miss so much in winter. Unlike my husband, I am not a winter person.
A bird has just flown off the feeder. A chipmunk darts out from under cover of a hosta bed, to see what seeds the bird scattered for him/her. But s/he sees me nearby and retreats.
The news here and abroad is grim. I no longer think I can change the world – that realization took me a long time but it doesn’t make me less anxious or furious.
I worry that the White nationalism next door in the US has already made its way here. There’s nothing Christian about it, so I omit that word.
Here in Ontario, the auditor general has released a scathing report of government corruption: the ruling party has sold off some of our crucial wetlands and wild spaces to friends of the premier.
That’s what can happen when most people refuse to vote – handing the Conservatives a majority win though only a small minority elected them.
Anyway, on to more pleasant thoughts.
Just above is a pink phlox. They are so nicely fragrant – I had forgotten.
More importantly, our family has enjoyed a healthy four weeks. The grandtoddler is well except for a nighttime cough, and the grandbaby has her first tooth. Husband has recovered from a back injury in May (he worked with a great chiropractor) and I’m… I’m as usual.
Reluctant to risk more back pain, I’m doing a lot of reading, thinking and gathering material for a future book. But I’m still not writing (except for a Myrtle the Purple Turtle book which Lauren and I keep discussing). Writing causes pain and calls for a lot of solitary time – which takes me away from my family. For now, I’m choosing family.
Here are a few more scenes from our August garden:
With news of another Covid variant, I have no idea what the fall will bring, but for now, I will enjoy “the moment” and wish you well.
From the garden,
Cynthia.
