…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.
and this–early this a.m.–happened before going outside. A precursor to witnessing the birth of Iris:
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.
following thread 
In TN, I could waste away half of a morning watching the gold finches as they flit from tomato to tomato, hanging sometimes upside down. If I had not taken a photo, I would not have thought it possible.
Look what is possible here with your three cloths: color rising, the photo with the purple splotches, announcing a solidarity with the coming Iris. The photo of the two cloths, well at its most basic I see Juno facing obstacles, climbing towards a new life. In the other I see the jubilation of a little boy, frolicking in glee and of course I think of Logan and his twisty hat.. I think about these cloths, these warmer colors and they tell me of the daily doings of life with the unexpected as well as the known. These cloths, your garden, what is coming up from your hard worked dirt, your land and one word comes to the forefront – thriving. For anything to thrive it takes caring, devotion, attention, time, perseverance and love, and as you say, so much to honor and you do and in the process of daily life, you honor us with your sharing.
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hi Marti. yes and the goldfinch are way too fast for me…i’ve got lots of pictures of where-they-were-just-a-second-ago. i always appreciate your “take” on things. perhaps would not have described life as “thriving” but then i’m thinking, “well, why not?” yes. thriving. and that is simply more than enough.
boy is Logan. ball cap to follow
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The thing is, and I am only speaking for myself, I look at the one thing every day that is positive, that takes the edge off of what I have no control over. In striving to do that, this practice that I have undertaken for many years, causes me to thrive in understanding of who I am. Ssometimes thriving comes when least expected, when things are so off kilter that you simply have to take a deep breath, move through, move on, day in and day out continue…if you can do that, then your are a success and that is what I call thriving.
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(Apologies for the typos…)
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That iris is fabulous & Happy Beltane to you!
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may pole greetings to you as well. what a magical time, yes? that iris- -what can i say? no way to get a bad pic.
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Cynthia posted this wonderful poem by Mary Oliver over at Grace’s Windthread
http://windthread.typepad.com/windthread/2014/05/the-brightness-of-human-spirit.html
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones, just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Mary Oliver
I love this circle of cloth conjurors so much!!!
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love this—and the “doorway into thanks…” she’s captured so much with these seemingly simple words. as always. and i’m with you. love this circle.
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That iris foto is just magnificent! And your dogs…are wonderful. You are doing magic.
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thoat iris–i’ll take its pic this morning and we can witness the growth. glad you’re loving the dogs–Juno needs as much affection as the universe can provide. glad you popped in
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I’ve planted irises for years because I love them and never had any luck–too shady here I thought. Yesterday my first bloom ever opened. I can’t stop looking at it. I love that 1/2 inch growth between the times you looked. And Juno… Fostering–what a brave thing. As I read this I was reminded of Grace’s story of the mustang that had a 15 year old girl waiting for it somewhere. And so perhaps you are not Juno’s equivalent of a 15 year old girl. I wonder who that will be… I admire your ability to love and then step out of the way to let go. A virtual hug to you.
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Isn’t it miraculous. i got these bulbs a few years ago. they were listed on craigslist and all i had to do was dig them up. it was in the fall and they were under black walnut trees. on a windy day. nuts were crashing to the ground all around me but something kept me safe. the spirit of the iris i think.
and yes, i recall that story as well. beautiful–and that’s what I’m visioning for Juno. a perfect “forever” home. Beth, i appreciate your insights and support.
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The first set of cloths, if you wanted to stitch our NM Grace (as opposed to the ethereal kind), you couldn’t have come closer. The garden looks lovely and so full of promise. I love my garden best at this stage, when it doesn’t need me as much as it does later.
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yes, everything looks so neat and tidy right now–i think it might be my favorite time as well. usually in May we get a few hail storms and last year we had so much rain no one had much of a yield, so hopefully this year’s harvest will be better.
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