On the Second Day of School

In the still morning, as I silently practice my orisons, I hear the unexpected trilling of tree frogs calling to each other in the forest. Slowly, as the mist rises, single crickets and katydids add to the morning song. Eventually there is a chorus, and I must strain to hear the frogs, still singing.

Squirrelboy and Faerygirl are off to their second day of school. Yesterday went well, with much excitement. This morning, though, Squirrelboy cried and tried to stay with me. Our bus driver is the best...she reassured me all would be well, and when the bus passed by again on its route, flashed me a thumbs-up.

These early autumn mornings always stir my soul, with their golden soft light, the coolness of the air, and the slowly depreciating chorus of singers. It will not last much longer, a few months more. Ah, but it will be beautiful. It IS beautiful. These days encourage us to enjoy each and every moment as it lasts, and to give thanks for it. And so I do.

Irises and Strawberries

Tonight, the Lord of Dragonwood took us on a walk to see the secret irises in bloom. Although we knew they existed, for three years or so we have never seen their flowers. Delicate they are, and lovely. Pale, pale blue-purple with soft yellow throats, much more subtle than their showy cultivated sisters. They have that pure beauty of an innocent woman, simple in her garments but irresistible in her loveliness.

In the gardens, the strawberry harvest is heavy. We picked as a family in the evening, and after the children are abed, the grownups hull and wash and put them up. The Lord is a master of strawberry jam and other sweet delights. The full Strawberry Moon rose red this evening, perfectly matching the hue of the fat berries in our bowl.

Squirrelboy found out why we don't keep petting spiders (I did warn him). Mamma Wolf Spider did not appreciate the harassment, and bit him on the finger. After a bout of howling, Squirrelboy seems to be absolutely fine. We hope he has learned his lesson. "But I can still pet daddy long-legs," he says, having learned that they do not bite people. And there was the time earlier this spring when he found out why you don't want to pet a bee...

Outside the front door of the Manor, the Lord is building a fine strong deck. And last night, the Lady held a soiree with intimate friends to honor this growing time of year. Soft music under the moon and stars, with good food and good conversation, is a perfect way to spend an evening.

The Nightsingers

O the Nightsingers, they celebrate
the June moon
friendly and warm and full
like a mother's face beaming at her
children.

You were there with me, you know
the harmony
'tween crickets and starlight and we
around the fire with our guitars and
drumming.

Sweet voices, raised in song,
us and they
not so different after all,
our living, dying, believing,
and joy.

Leeches and a Musical Moment

It's been a wet Spring. The forest is lush and green, and so are the weeds in my garden. I can barely keep pace with them. Leeches stretch across the driveway, black and glistening. They look like giant earthworms as long as my hand from wrist to longest fingertip. They are Annelids, segmented worms like their cousins. It is beautiful to watch them move, stretching and bunching with peristaltic action, blindly seeking their ways across the gravel. Above sits a now-hidden hawk's nest. I found a feather one morning, just as I was singing:

"Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh what a beautiful day,
I got a beautiful feeling...
(here I stooped to pick up the feather I had just noticed)
Everything's going my way!"

Indeed, sometimes there ARE moments in life that are straight out of a musical.