the blue muse

The mulching is finally done for another year, and almost as a reward, the peonies all popped out over the weekend. This morning I cut an armful to put ’round the house… because peonies, of all flowers, are meant to be cut.

It’s supposed to rain for days now, and my garden will be happy.

There is work to do and words to write, it’s time for sundresses and bare feet, and summer has moved into my heart. And my house smells like peony heaven.

My soul is smiling.

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Wishing you a week filled with smiles.

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hummingbirds rule and purple is queen

peonies party and white daisies dance

in the perfume of regal pink roses

and each morning holds the magic

of new

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wishing you a weekend filled with magic

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in purple
beneath a spun glass sky
of clear cerulean
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the color
of promises

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a window

opening

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let’s soar

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Just now, most of my garden blooms are purple.

I guess it’s no coincidence, since purple is my favorite color.

Half of my garden is still a mess. I hope to work on that this weekend.

The weeds always win, in the end, but I put up a good fight,
at least in the early months of the season.

 The fireflies have arrived, as well as the hummingbirds.

I find comfort in these cycles, these small reminders
that life is always moving forward,
even as I realize that I simply can’t keep up.

And sometimes, I just have to sit and watch it all race by.

And smile at the transient beauty of a gold and purple sunset.

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Wishing you a weekend filled with color

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and happy to be there

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I know the real thing won’t be here for almost another month, but for me, Memorial Day Weekend marks the beginning of summer.

It also marks something far more important, honoring those who’ve served our country, and those who were lost in that service.

And so, this weekend will be spent outside, gardening and remembering and being grateful for all that I have.

Communing with the sun and the soil and my roots.

Listening to life.

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Wishing you a weekend filled with sunshine.

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The temperature slips from 90 to 50, socks and sweaters come out again and I’m glad I didn’t plant the seedlings I’d planned to get in the ground early quite yet.

Life swirls and whirls around me and I keep standing still, waiting for something, though I’m not sure what.

I think I’ve reached the age of reflection.

Looking back, looking forward, standing still.

Growing.

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Spring is bursting with life,
my heart is bursting with love,
and morning light turns everything pretty.

The bluebirds sing their small quiet song
and the robins guard their small babies.

Each open window becomes a new stage.

Fireflies and peepers
light the night more than bright
as I stand beneath a sky
spun from velvet.

This is my world and I fall backwards
each morning,
let it catch me
with wide open arms.

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One of these tiny socks would fit my big toe. Maybe.

It boggles the mind, in the best way possible.

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Wishing you a weekend filled with possibility.

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