Thursday, August 26, 2010
On a cloudy, damp morning in May, a plant sale at the Institute of Ecosystem Studies. A full parking lot already at 10:00 a.m..
We walk through the rows admiring the different varieties of plants, reading labels, wishing we knew what we were doing. Familiar and unfamiliar names–spiraea, buxos, hosta, buddleia, euonymus. What we don't recognize outnumbers what we do.
Advice is welcome from a master gardener on the staff. We settle on hybrid daylilies in pale yellow.
a stop at the diner
The Country and Abroad, August 2007
Thursday, August 19, 2010
We live on top of a hill with trees all around–in a ravine behind the house and in thick rows on the edges of the property. Dogwood, maple, locust, apple, oak, ash, birch, several variety of pine, and others I can’t name..
They speak to me all day, every day, in voices soft and sibilant, slurred and shushing, fierce and bold. They whisper, they crash and bang. They can snap and crack when covered with ice; they can sing lullabies when in full leaf.
the summer night
in the breeze stories told
before I sleep
frogpond, autumn 2009