…there’s just so much to record, to remember, to honor. This morning—three different birds–picture this. A vibrant neon-yellow goldfinch. A scarlet-rich male cardinal. And the one that didn’t get away–the bluebird. Imagining this in focus.
I was struck with this. These birds. Living, breathing examples of primary colors–the colors that combine to create the greens of the garden, the purple of the iris. Irises here in NC are a few weeks behind those in NM. I know this because Grace has been posting for a few weeks now. But finally, here, irises are birthing. Thrusting forth out of the protective sac–emerging almost half an inch in the time it took me to go inside, mess around a bit, and then remember that I wanted this picture. Here, coming forth on this second day of May, in the chill of the morning:
Cloth has been silent. I thought, “Maybe that’s it?” Then out of nowhere/somewhere these two appeared. I understand their genesis– and as diametrically opposed as they appear, a similar undercurrent exists–for me at least–that being the unstoppable stream of life. Two cloths–different from what normally appears. And I’ve decided to step aside, to get out of the way, to restrain from judging them. They simply are in the process of becoming.
It’s been a few weeks of letting go of. Accepting. Being o.k. with. Relaxing and practicing life without resistance to. I would explain more, but I don’t think it’s necessary. At this point.
And two more things. The two main things right now: garden and dogs:
And last week the enclosure for the winter squash was finished–and because I was determined not to buy anything for the project, the garden gate grew out of necessity and available materials–bamboo and the remains of the trees my neighbors cut down:
and it serves its purpose. Hope and Juno can no longer grub around in the squash bed. And hopefully it will deter groundhog–whose first sighting for this year was two days ago, April 30. Groundhog. Surprisingly fat, already. Sat for a long time. Studying the garden.
And my four-legged companion friends:
And lastly, a note to self. A reminder of intent. On Thursday I consulted an amazing animal communicator, asking about Juno. Wanting to know how I could serve her better. What else did she need? Needing to know if this was the best place for her. And the answers I received–although totally different from what I anticipated–resonate in their truths.
So. Juno will remain with us until she is ready for her next two-legged. This decision–a reversal of a reversal. Because initially I was only fostering Juno, supporting her through her healing process. Readying her for her “forever” home. Then–a change of heart/mind–I decided I would just adopt her. And now, the realization that this has been just a stop on her journey–a safe haven where her trust in people could begin to be restored.
At some point, Juno will be moving to her next home–it may be months yet–but the decision feels right–for Juno. For Hope. For me. And it’s also re-opened the door of my original intent, which was to foster special needs animals until they were ready for their next step. So, Ms. Juno. You’ve come a long way, babe. And the places you will go…oh my.