Early July Garden Report

So, the Garden.  The big news this week is that the sweet peas are blooming!   The seeds, you may recall, were planted in tiny peat pots way back in February.  There were two dozen of them.  Of those, about half germinated.  And from those, five survived, which were potted up in this pot here.

Last week I had to go on a bit of a walk-about to find some new sticks to add to the pot, as I realized that the vines were now climbing higher than there were sticks to cling to.   Since I like to keep the pot somewhat mobile, especially with the porch project still pending, I wanted to keep the vines’ tendrils from reaching out and grabbing hold of something I couldn’t easily move around with it.

The first blossoms were white…three of them, and then this morning, a pink one.   The fragrance is lovely, a little sweeter than I’d remembered even.  I cut this bunch to bring inside, since cutting is supposed to keep them blooming.   I hope we’re in for a nice long cycle of blooming on these guys.

In other climbing vine news, the morning glories have continued to put out an occasional flower, and the recent bit of summery weather we  had seems to be encouraging them to begin climbing up the sticks in their planter.    I also reseeded a number of the Heavenly Blue morning glories, and I think I see some of them coming up.   I had an unexpected surprise recently, when my Facebook Gardening Friend Theresa wrote from Alabama to say she was sending me some seeds from her red columbine…and then also tucked in a bag full of cardinal climber seeds.  I’ve planted some of those with the morning glories and they seem to have sprouted as well (and right quickly, at that:  stand back, everyone) and I hope they will all be twining together ‘ere long.

The weather for the holiday weekend was stellar, the sun bright and warm during the day, but with steady breezes keeping temperatures reasonable and bugs at bay.  Of course, it doesn’t take much of nice weather like that to remind that you need to keep up with watering the container gardens that the endless rain was keeping wet.   Fortunately, I had minimal wilting before learning that lesson.    The rain was becoming too much of a good thing and flowers were melting right off the plants.

I’m happy to say it didn’t take much sunshine to encourage everything to start blooming anew.   Oh, and how the pollinators frolic from plant to plant in the sunshine.   I found the garden outside my bank a-flutter and a-buzz with them when I stopped by at the start of the weekend.   I believe this is catmint or perhaps some kind of sage that this white butterfly is enjoying so.   And the bee is on a purple coneflower.   I’ve got a couple of those in the driveway garden, though they won’t be in full bloom for another week or so, looks like.

If it seems like I’m not posting as much lately as I might be, there is a reason for that I’ve not shared with you.

It turns out that The Walkin’ Cat has decided he rather likes going out on explorations and adventures on the harness…and now clamors for it, loudly and insistantly, on a very regular basis.  It’s sort of funny.   If it has been five minutes since we’ve come in, then we are long overdue to go out again, he feels.

I may have created a monster.   But if you could see him out there stalking through the grass, getting his inner panther on, that long tail lashing about behind him.  I’ll have to try to capture the scene for you soon, he’s quite a riot.   Walking with him is not the strenuous ordeal that walking Emily used to be, though.   With Badum, it’s sort of a Thinking Man’s game.   There’s lots of free time standing around, whilst he munches on various kinds of grass.

Here he is blocking my getting out the front door without him.   Silly kitty.

It turns out the snapdragons I bought this year were actually a double-flowered variety and so they have been something of a surprise to behold.   There’s also a red one blooming nicely in the backyard, which I’ve failed to photograph well just yet.

I’m sorry to say that one doesn’t have the strong, sweet fragrance that I’ve come to enjoy so in regular red rocket snapdragons, which smell so much like Cherry Kool-Aid.   There might be a hint of it, though, or else I have an active imagination (which has actually been confirmed).

Not far from the peach snapdragon in the driveway garden,  a little sunlight (and a bit more rain) have brought the rudbeckia into blooming and the shasta daisies and moonbeam coreopsis are quickly following suit.     I don’t seem to be seeing too much response from the lilies I planted this spring.   I think there might be an oriental lily (Casa Blanca) still to be seen this year, but we’ll see.

The Rains of Junes were good for the perennials, it seems and everything on that front is full and tall and green and blooming (or preparing to, as with this red Jacob Kline Beebalm, aka, monarda).   The annuals are not always faring so well.   It’s interesting.  The ones in containers, like up on my deck or on the side stoop downstairs, are doing very nicely…but the ones who’ve been planted right in the ground seem to have  been the victim of assorted anonymous chewing bugs, whose damage went unseen during the longer rainy patches.  Ah, well.   There’s plenty of beautiful things going on.

The zinnias I grew from seed are also starting to bloom and I’ve just spied the first flower buds on last year’s fuschia plant, which I managed to overwinter in a southern window of the next.   Photos of both of those coming soon.

As I was preparing to head out to the laundromat this evening, I spied a tiny bit of moving green on one of my buttondown shirts and discovered what I believe to be a tiny (about half an inch, not counting monster antennae) katydid nymph.   I ignored the common meaning of such a name (nymph, which in this case means nascent, you gutter dwellers) in wondering how it found my bedroom and carefully got it onto my finger and out onto the porch, where I relocated it on one of the newly-blooming nasturtiums.   Pretty, eh?

And I’ll leave you this time with a little tussy-mussy I made of the blooming sweet peas and a few pansies.  Perfect for a tiny shelf in the Nest where a kitty can’t get it, and also perfect for offering online birthday greetings to one of my favorite fellow bloggers.   Hope you had a sweet day, Patrick!

Catalpa

Floral Fireworks

Catching Up: Summer Holidays

Previously, on “Lupines in the Mist”: The Gardener drove to the Outer Cape for an early morning doctor’s appointment, to be followed by an afternoon of catching up with friends and pursuing some seasonal fun of an as-yet unspecified nature in Provincetown.   Due to uncharacteristically-careful planning for tourist traffic that didn’t quite materialize, the Gardener found himself in town way sooner than the doctor’s appointment (also sooner than the afore-mentioned friends might have enjoyed a wake-up) and so explored the misty hillside around Highland, or Cape Cod Light, overlooking the Atlantic.

A delightful way to kill time, to be sure.

The doctor’s appointment was relatively brief and of the most minor consequence, but did notably include sounds of happy surprise from the Nurse who was checking me in when I stepped onto the scale:  21 pounds off me since February!   Not bad news at all, especially when coupled with additional pleased-sounding murmurs from her at the post-cigarette blood pressure and pulse rate (just thirteen days ’til the One Year Mark!).  Just imagine what good shape I might be in if Rainy June hadn’t encouraged my inner sloth and let me get out for a few more bike rides!

And then I was happily off to my rendezvous with Kelly and Carol at their motel room, where we enjoyed some coffee and “catch-up” time on their “veranda” overlooking Provincetown Harbor to kick off our annual Friendfest.   The three of us always find plenty to talk about and Kel also fixed us some lovely lunch wraps while we waited for the sun to burn through the morning’s early fog.

You could call this a reunion of blogger friends.  Technically, this is true, since Kel started a blog of her own (sagely titled, Be Positive, which you should totally visit, if my Blogroll hasn’t already led you there) since our visit last summer.   But she and I have known each other a good deal longer than that, so being “blogger friends” is a relatively new descriptor to our long and storied  friendship.

Last year we celebrated with mini-golf.   This year, we quickly settled on heading into P-Town to go for a sail on the Schooner Hindu.  It’s an 80 year old sailing vessel, the crew of which lead folks out on tours of Provincetown Harbor and Cape Cod Bay.  They operate from MacMillan Pier, right beside the Wyddah Pirate Museum, near all the whale watch and tour boat slips.  I’ve often thought it would be quite cool to go out on the Hindu – the sunset cruises sound especially delightful.  Guests are welcomed to bring along your own picnic meal and cooler of preferred beverages (wink wink), an option we didn’t totally consider until we had set sail (I wondered later if the crew was a little disappointed with us).

Next time, we’ll know.

I think there’ll be a next time, too, since we really had a pretty fantastic afternoon.   There’s a minimal crew for the Hindu.   Guests are invited to participate in some crew activities, if they wish.   Carol was excited for that, though Kelly and I were content to sit back and appreciate the effort sailing involves.  ; )

Although the Hindu only goes out for a two hour cruise, we’d been making with the Gilligan’s Island jokes back on shore.  Somehow, I was quickly fitted into the Gilligan role (sigh…but no one told me in time to buy an appropriate hat, and seriously, if I must be compared to a Bob Denver role, am I not more Maynard G. Krebs than Gilligan?).  Kel tried to portray herself as The Professor, but since she’d had her nails (fingers and toes) done in an array of rainbow colors in anticipation of the vacation, she really fell more into Ginger territory.

Ah, but Carol, it turns out, is way better suited to life as a Skipper than Alan Hale’s character ever dreamed of being, and she took the wheel for the bulk of our tour, weaving us through whale watch and parasail tour boats while keeping us in between the channel markers as we made our way by Long Point Light.

It’s true, she had a bit of navigational guidance from Captain Kevin “Foggy” Foley, but she kept us steady throughout the afternoon, leaving the good captain to relax and regale us with stories of Provincetown history, the history of the Hindu herself, and some of his own personal tales as well.   Cap’n Foggy had us both educated and entertained as our trip progressed.

Our trip really was a special treat.   The Hindu has a capacity of forty, we were told, but there were only four of us guests aboard that day.    With the captain, his first mate Joanne and crewman “Moonshine” Matt (he moonlights with the Pirate Adventure Tours boat as Pirate Pete) that made for a total of seven of us aboard and we were really able to move around the schooner or just stretch out and make ourselves comfortable.

I’ve been out on Provincetown Harbor in a variety of craft over the years, though mostly whale watch boats.  Getting out on the water is always a special delight, but the Hindu offered an additional treat.   Although it is equipped with a motor for easy navigation in and out of slip, once the sails have been hoisted, the schooner is silent.   The sounds of Provincetown fade into the distance, leaving only the sound of the wind in the sail and slap of water against the side of the boat to compete with the buoy bell and the Race Point foghorn in the distance.   It’s nearly impossible not to relax, really.

It’s true what they say about having fun.  The time really does go quickly, and far sooner than we wished we were washing up on the shores of the world again.

Every summer in Provincetown brings new things to entertain or bemuse us, some more thought-provoking than others.  This year, four Y sculptures have been erected (Heh.  Yes, I said erected…are you five?), each inscribed with a different word.

There’s Y Care, Y Discriminate, Y AIDS, and here at MacMillan Pier, Y Think.   They are just the start of The “Y” Project, an art installation (born in NYC) which asks us to reflect on this question:

“Why do we live so comfortably with an imbalance of human equality and irresponsibility?”

We did reflect on this for a bit, and made note of the project’s web address so we could get all the details about it later.   And then, honestly, we  went and had a beer and reflected instead on how cool life would be if we lived aboard a schooner and could spend our days having adventures as we sailed the Seven Seas.  Well, the tropical bits, anyway.  You know, where they serve fruity frozen drinks (We’re not shallow people, we really do care about important social issues, but must we be serious on vacation, too?  Let’s not.).

It’s good to have a rich fantasy life, they say, so this Schooner Reflection is healthy.   Really, though, we did talk about going out on the Hindu again – the sunset tour, next time – and with a lovely picnic supper and maybe some nice wine.  We might even invite a few of you to join us.

We did enjoy a picnic supper similar to the imagined one back at the motel room that evening, as we watched the sun settle into the western sky beyond the Provincetown skyline, although with margaritas instead of wine.  Well, actually, Cap’n Carol had a little wine, I think.  As we looked to the horizon, we could see our new friend Hindu sailing off on just such a tour, passing Long Point Light.

And Time passes.

Above is a shot of Wednesday evening’s thunderstorm as seen from Rock Harbor marina, as it advanced on us across Cape Cod Bay.   It was an intense storm, with some real heavy rains and lightning.  There was even a moment or two of flooding here at the Nest, though that was quickly remedied.  However, a lightning strike in the neighborhood seemed also to have fried the splitter on my cable connection, so that I lost telephone and internet service (“but I’m not a Facebook Addict, I could quit anytime I wanted”, it turns out, was a big stinky crock of beans) but still had cable television.  Strange.

I’m sorry to tell you that the lightning also killed a man in town during the storm, a fact which made being without the Internet for a day or two not seem like a particular hardship.  There was plenty else to occupy my time, anyway.

And then, the holiday weekend was upon us.   What a treat to realize anew that I lived in the neighborhood where the fireworks are shot off each year.  For a change, there was no need to fret about parking or hiking to the shore from some distant parking spot.   The former “hike” is my regular walk and I’ve been in training for the fireworks, it turns out, since autumn.

I’m familiar with the experience, though, as the Downstairses have a big barbecue every year on whatever night the Rock Harbor fireworks are scheduled for (this year, Friday the 3rd, to kick off the weekend), leading all who attend to a lovely vantage point in the marsh.   This year, the tide was coming in at us as the show commenced, offering some wonderfully reflective foreground.   For the occasion, I broke in a new inexpensive camera tripod and tried out the camera’s Fireworks setting.  You’ve already seen most of those, already.

Here’s a shot of the deck garden, as seen from the backyard.  I hadn’t anticipated how festively patriotic the blue glow of the LED solar lights would work with the red and white of the candles and Folgers can luminaries.  (By the way, this post is already epic-ly overlong, so gardening will wait for later…but the sweet peas are starting to bloom!)

It was a festively late night (made later by my desire to get fireworks photos up at the blog post haste), and all too soon, morning and the Independence Day parade were upon us.  I always like to be there early enough to wander along the parade route through the gathering crowd.  I  never know quite who I’ll meet up with, but it’s always fun.  I just love the way everyone gets into the spirit of the day, with red white and blue outfits everywhere you look.

Some folks go the extra mile, with an Uncle Sam hat or Statue of Liberty visor or maybe some colored beads.  Almost every kid clutches an American flag in their hand.   And then there are those creative few who really take it to a totally new level.

This is MaryKate, who came dressed as our Declaration of Independence.    While the similarity to a floor-length gown was admittedly limiting to her movement, she couldn’t say enough positive things about the elegance of the language.  Her family group were all well appointed, representing Uncle Sam, Lady Liberty, Paul Bunyun, a bald eagle and a host of other American characters (not to mention a dozen or so red/white/blue clad little ones), and were a parade of their own, entertaining themselves and other parade goers until the actual parade passed by.

They added to the usual sense of excitement and anticipation that the sunniest July Fourth morning brings to everyone along Main Street.

Evening found me in the company of some of my favorite folks, the extended Donovan clan, at their family beach house on the bay.   A spectacular sunset only kicked off the festivities and we watched as fireworks bloomed all along the bayshore from Provincetown to Plymouth, a big festive and fiery birthday confection as we celebrated our country’s 233rd birthday.  Our celebration included, as all the best do, a few fireworks of our own, great gales of laughter, a few drinks, some swimming, great songs and an enjoyable array of grilled meats!

Today, I’m napping a lot.   I hope you’re all enjoying some lovely summer days, too!

Fireworks

Well, the second half of my Farewell to June post was sort of pre-empted by a big thunderstorm that rattled and rolled through here Wednesday night.   A fairly close strike not far from here apparently fried the splitter for my cable, leaving me with cable television (which I almost never use) and NO telephone or internet until this morning.   T’was a minor hardship, at best, considering a local shellfisherman was killed by lightning during the same storm.

However, not having the internet for a few days – while being great for cleaning the apartment and walking the Catsby and stuff like that – has put me a bit behind the eightball as far as being backlogged on blog posts…and now we’re into a whole new thing with Independence Day festivities.   So, as usual, I’ll ask you to race along with me as we head forward and then backtrack to catch up.

Tonight, the fireworks went off down at Rock Harbor.  What a treat to already live in the neighborhood and not have to figure out where to park before walking down to the shore with the masses.   A bunch of us from our barbecue made our way out onto the point at the edge of the marsh, where the tide was moving in steadily in our direction, creating some lovely reflective opportunities.

Have a lovely weekend!

June’s Farewell, Part One: The Foggy Morning

Late June Garden Report

With a sigh, we tell you that it’s raining again on Cape Cod this morning.

We did have a few days of sunshine (and on Saturday even enough heat, finally, to break the fan out of the closet) and I’ll get to that in a moment, but with that day and a half of nice weather, that brings our total of sunny days this June to about seven.   The roses are developing blackspot.   Lots of other things, owing to the nice spring that preceded Rainy June, are blooming a little early (and thanks to the rain, sort of briefly).

I try to remain upbeat and positive about this – all the cruddy weather is giving me plenty of opportunities to continue on doing stuff inside the Nest, which is kind of fun.   But I wouldn’t mind a little more time for walking or biking…and I’ve abbreviated some of my gardening plans thanks to the nearly-perpetual rain.    Still, perspective is key, and I am (for now) safely away from the shoreline of the Atlantic, which was pretty well ravaged by last week’s nor’easter.   And we aren’t the only ones to have been impacted by the storminess and the rains.

Of course its hardly all doom and gloom.   The catawba (AKA,  catalpa) tree in the backyard has come into bloom this weekend.   I’ll try to get you a better photo of the blooms, which are sort of distinctive and orchid-like.   I may need a step-ladder, though.

Meanwhile, as I mentioned, the sun has shone recently and we enjoyed it as much as we could in the limited time it was with us.   There was time to deadhead all the pansies and marigolds and things which had become sodden and melty-looking…and also time for some fresh blossoms to open up in the warm golden light.   The pollinators couldn’t have looked happier in the morning sunshine, flitting about the deck as they moved from planter to planter, collecting the best of each blossom.  In other news, it appears that the baby robins from under the deck have fledged and are gone.  Oh, how quickly we grow up!

Oh, one correction I need to offer.   Last week, when I wrote of potting up a red, white and blue arrangement in advance of next week’s July Fourth celebrations, I referred to the blue component as convolvulus, which is wrong.  I believe that’s actually the name for morning glories.   What I actually planted – and I want to be clear on this, since it’s a fantastic little annual for container planting – is Evolvulus Glomeratus.   Since I planted it, it’s begun to bloom a little.   Here’s one of it’s pretty blue flowers, to help convince you that you really ought to pick one up for your garden.

I don’t have too much else to say this morning.   In lieu of any Pride Celebrations (I was glad to hear NYC’s were not rained out this weekend, a minor miracle.   BTW, have you read this?), I’ll leave you with the rainbow of flowers we enjoyed during our all-too-brief, but delightful flirtation with the Sun.

When Shadows Fall

“May you always hear, even in your hour of sorrow, the gentle singing of the lark.”

“May you always remember when the shadows fall, you do not walk alone.”

– from an Irish blessing.

James A. Lacey, 1968 – 2009.

The Gardener’s Cat

Generally, I try to find something good in each day.   But some days, you just can’t help but really love.    Today is one of those days.

Late breaking news:  the sun came out, almost a week after its last, brief sighting.   Weeeeee!!! Oh, the deadheading to be done!    Heh.  Such is the duplicitous life of a gardener.

But it’s a special day for another reason, too:  there’s an anniversary to celebrate.

It was five years ago tonight.  I’d gotten home rather late in the evening, hot and sweaty from a long June day of catering.   Like any good gardener who’s also a catering director, I changed my clothes, grabbed a flashlight and wandered out into the dark garden to see what had grown while I was gone.  There was a small, but strong mewing sound…and out of the darkness came a small – thin – gray cat.  He looked at me hopefully and made his little cry again, part plaintive, but also sort of matter-of-fact as he rubbed up against my leg, suddenly purring like crazy.

I laughed and couldn’t resist petting him and he fell over on his back on the tops of my sneakers, for the first time presenting his belly for rubbing.  Hi, I’m you’re cat.  Sorry I’m late, he seemed to be saying, never considering that our household might not be able to manage another mouth to feed…and a cat, at that.   It was true the parakeets had recently passed on to Bird Heaven, so we were only three, but one of those was a large and bossy dog.   My new pal seemed unperturbed by this news.  In fact, I’ve long suspected that he studied us at a distance for some time before making his appearance.

Emily, the dog, was not amused by the decision to welcome this cat and for about four months, it was necessary to install what I came to think of as the Berlin Baby Gate, splitting our already-smallish apartment into East for the Dog and West for the Cat.   Eventually they became pretty terrific friends, but that summer, whew.  It was intense.

Because of the Dog, my buddy was little seen during the first week of his residency, which only enhanced some initial confusion as to his gender.   There were, after all, no easily visible testes to firm up an identity and other things baffled us, too.   Who knew boy kitties could have all those nipples?!

And so there was some hesitation on the subject of naming upon his arrival.    His sudden appearance seemed to duplicate the behavior of a cat I’d written about in some fiction, named Christopher Marlowe.   But that wasn’t going to work if turned out to be a girl.   Perhaps Cinders because of the charcoal fur, or Ella, perhaps.  Nah, too similar to Emily.   Eventually, as he became more accustomed to us and began to feel better (he was a little sickly and under-nourished on his arrival) we were able to make a closer examination and discovered proof of his Him-ness.

Still, it was a few nights later, when he first got what I’ve come to think of as The Zooms before a name occurred to us.   He tore around the apartment in the dark.   Up and Down.   Back and Forth.   Maybe even bouncing off the walls when he reached one, but all the while dribbling a toy catnip-infused mouse before him, eventually getting it into the bathtub where he knocked it around throughout the wee hours, the drain apparently doubling as goal in his game of Mouse Hockey.

The next morning, we settled on Ba-DUM, a sound effect as much as a name, in fact, the sound our growing kitty made when he jumped down off the counter he hadn’t been climbing on.   Badum would be his name.

But he’s never had just one name.   Emily, who never liked sharing attention with him, called him Badum Al Badump (International Cat of Leisure) and tried for a while to convince us she’d seen his name on the FBI terrorist watch list (oh, that should get my little garden blog a few .gov hits, eh?) and he should be deported.

With a little time, he quickly also became Buddy, Pal, Agent LaChat, The Little King, Pally-Wally, Shadow Kitty, Gray, The Son of the Pamet Puma, Squirrel Killah (he never has that I know of, but points for intent through the window, in this case), Kitty-kitty, Catdude, [Pally-Wally] Doodle, Kit…and so on.

Since we took up this Bachelors’ Life, my Little Buddy has come out of the shadows his big sister kept him in.  His fun, friendly, thoughtful, funny and loving nature comes through a little more clearly each day.

A Few Random Facts about My Roommate:

*  Badum loves to entertain and will happily present his under-carriage for rubbing pretty quickly upon your arrival.

*  He is quick to purr, sometimes taking it up long before you’ve even touched him.  He sometimes gets so wrapped up in The Purring that he rolls himself right off the couch or out of my lap and onto the floor.

*  Except for the days when a new supply of organic catnip has arrived in the household, he is generally at the door waiting to greet me with noisy fanfare when I get home at the end of the day.    If I’m late to feed him (a condition he believes exists four hours prior to his regular time of 5:00 p.m.), it’s noisy and full of attitude.

*  He is Kato to my Clouseau, regularly lurking around the corner or behind some piece of furniture, waiting to attack my foot and take me down, to what end, I’m not sure.  But it’s fun.   Maybe it’s those Monkey Slippers.

*  Although he often goes off in the dark to do secret cat things (eat), I generally wake up feeling him nestled up against me, or on top of me.   Last week, I woke up to him lounging on my head.

*  He believes that spider plants are trying to take over the world and only he can save us.

As for The Names, he continues to collect those almost as fast as the Nest collects cat hair (which is pretty fast, indeed, my friends).    Mister Purrypants.  The Gray Catsby.  He Who Must Be Fed.  The Purrmeister.  Monsieur Le Pantalons de Purr.  John Cougar Mellowcat.  Bagheera. El Gatito Grios.   The list goes on.

I’ve mentioned before, there’s always been something special about him, like he came to me for some particular  reason.     Seeing what good company he’s been this past year, that’s easy to believe…and I am grateful to the Universe for sending him in my direction.   I’m happy to share my days and nights with him.   He’s the best roommate a guy could hope for – funny, sensitive, wise…and foolish…and also soft, warm and cuddly (which is, honestly, more than one dares hope for in a roommate).   I couldn’t be more pleased to have been found.

The Catdude Abides.

A Mid-Summer’s Gale

Well, look who blew back into town to help us celebrate the arrival of summer:  it’s our old wintertime friend, N’oreaster.

Yes, an unseasonal gale has swirled up into existence about 150 miles east of us and is taking the Chilly Stormy Thing to new levels.    Our high temperature for the last 24 hours has been about 57 and just for good measure, there’s the rising, falling wind gusts that howl just a little at the top of their blowing to make it seem a little colder.

I don’t really have any complaints, though.    I think we’re building up a nice credit and when the weather finally turns favorable, we might enjoy a nice long stretch of it.   Anyway, it’s been good to have my attention turned in on the Nest the last couple of days and I’ve made some good progress on a few different fronts:  painting, re-organizing, brainstorming, decorating, cleaning.

It feels all tied to the Solstice and the change of the season and perhaps my inner Pagan is taking over:   I feel like there’s a ritualism to the cedar incense and lavendar candles I’ve been burning as I’m working.  I recently noted the passing of the one year mark of when I made those fairly big decisions last year, so it feels right, these new Nesting efforts.   Rededicating myself, I guess, and continuing to celebrate the good life I’m creating.

Anyway, it was kind of exciting last night and again this morning to suddenly realize that the background rush I was hearing through open windows (the cat’s disappointed, but there are fewer of them just now) was not traffic on the highway or even the gusting wind, but the rolling, crashing, thundering power of the ocean not far away.   Always such an awesome sound in the dark of night.

I enjoyed stopping by Coast Guard Beach this afternoon to check out the ocean’s bit of drama.   There something thrilling about the strong scent of a sea churned up with a storm, the tang of salt on your tongue, even the way the wind blows my hair.   It hasn’t actually rained very much, only a spatter here and there, although we had some heavier rainfall overnight.

Unusual or not, its only a bit of weather and one only has to turn on the television or the radio or surf the internet to know that there’s plenty of folks who’s lives are way more troubled by things much more powerful than a lack of sunshine.  My good wishes go the people of Iran, who have every right to hope for fair elections, and my sympathies are with those people whose evening commute took an unpleasant turn on the Washington DC Metro line this evening.

And closer to home,  it seems a host of my friends are facing challenges in their lives these days and I find my thoughts and best wishes go to each of them throughout the day.

Meanwhile, here’s a little something to boost all our spirits while we await the return of our regularly-scheduled June:   a few after-images of a morning walk I enjoyed last week when the sun made a brief appearance.