I’ve Got the Sky, the World Is My Home
It’s been a while. I’ve been trying to be better about posting more regularly but there are times when I just don’t have anything to share. I’m certainly fortunate to live such a peaceful life but it doesn’t make for very good blogging.
“Today was another beautiful, endlessly sunny day. I watched the mule deer chew their way through a neighboring pasture and listened to the magpies squawk as they took turns stealing Pickwick’s food.”
Today I saw something else.
The first time we pulled into the driveway, to decide whether or not we wanted to rent this place or buy a camper and make that our home for a year or two, the “yard” was nothing but grasshoppers and weeds. The ground shimmered, like heat off asphalt, with the movement of thousands of insects. It was unnerving. We were given a week or two (I can’t remember which) of free rent because it was so overgrown and the work it would take to fix it was going to be extensive. Well, fix it we have. We’ve maintained the grass from the very moment it started sprouting again. Now, where long tangles of weeds once stood, green has begun to spread. I never get tired of pausing by a window to marvel at the change.
Unfortunately, the few spring showers we’ve had have come on the weekends, which is the only time the yard can be cut. So for three weeks the grass has been growing untrammeled. It’s like a long shaggy green carpet with random bursts of bright yellow dandelion heads. Dandelions are my favorite flower, weeds or not. I’ve never stopped to stare at an unblemished yard but I have, on multiple occasions, stopped to admire a hillside covered with dandelions.
With flowers come bees. I’m not as fond of bees as I am dandelions. I understand their benefits and I don’t wish them any harm but I’m very uncomfortable with them. My first apartment had a hive in the bedroom wall and our cohabitation did not result in many years of happy memories. It did result in the 100% confirmation that I am not allergic to bee stings and that bees, surprisingly, do not enjoy being sat upon.
Today, as I walked outside to refill
the magpies’ Pickwick’s bowl, the yard was once again shimmering, this time with honey bees. About one of every five dandelions had a visitor. I cautiously made my way (the long way) around to grab his bowl and knock the beetles from the remaining nuggets of food before pouring a fresh helping. Then I ran inside and grabbed my camera to bravely attempt to photograph at least one of the dozens of bees, hopefully without being stung.
I made it! They were so engrossed in what they were doing, they didn’t seem to care that I was there. It was interesting and oddly enjoyable to watch them go about their business. Still, I can’t wait for this weekend and a fresh mowing.
by Gaelic Storm