Front Yard, Back Yard

1. Front yard.

I stand outside bathed in the fragrance of Purple Trailing Lantana. The tall, white Irises are blooming, and the maroon ones just came out today. And the white Salvia Greggii and the red ones whose color pierces your eyes. And the yellow Four Nerve Daisies and the Agarita covered in yellow along its pokey branches. And the Bluebonnet blossoms have just taken on some color. And the Mealy Blue Sage spikes are almost ready to let loose. And the pink and yellow Lantana Horrida by the mailbox. And of course the yellow Cowpen Daisies who bloomed continuously thru the winter. I sit down and smile.

2. Back yard.

The dog sits out back, basking in the sun. The Indigo Spires and Turks Cap by the kitchen have a ways to go before they put out their color. The Iris nursery is doing well, but there are no flower spikes yet. The Bergamot is looking thankful for the water I've given it the past few days and might do better this year than last. And there's a Magenta Monkey lying in the grass trying to tempt the dog, but the dog will have nothing to do with it, preferring instead the warm rays of the sun on his black head. He blinks his sleepy eyes.

11:41:39 PM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []  

Relationship with the Setting Sun

I once had a relationship with the setting sun.

When I was a child, year after year, we spent our summers on a lake in a woods in the north where the westering sun would send slanting rays over the glittering water and cast dancing shimmers on the Maples and Oaks and Pines that stood on the hill.

Today I sat on a hill of sorts outside my front door as the sun began to set. It cast its rays thru the spring-green finery of the Ash trees across the street. Although there were no glittering waves anywhere near, there were shimmers dancing in the branches and on the new buds of the Texas Persimmon tree.

And it felt just a bit like those days in the sun on the lake in the woods those many years ago.

11:26:43 PM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []