Pickled Beets

After a few hours of satisfying labor, we have sixteen pints of mid-summer in a jar. I don't enjoy the usual sugar and spice with pickled beets, so I leave them unsweetened and season them with garlic and herbs.

Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you all the beauty and bounty of mid-summer, and the joy of satisfying labor.

Golden Afternoon

The day was ideal... blue skies, warm air, soft breeze. My sons had hiked out to the woods to check the blackberry bramble for ripe berries.  Mabel and I decided to take a long ramble ourselves.

Nothing eases body and mind like walking beneath a green roof of leaves through patches of golden light.  We heard the boys before we saw them.

We walked amid daisies, black eyed Susan's, and St John's Wort, which is reputed to lift depression in the form of tinctures and other preparations. Perhaps there is also value in merely walking amid yellow flowers in a green field beneath a blue sky.

Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you joy and peace.

Iris:Wild Ginger

Waiting

The air is heavy

Low dark clouds

Have painted the water in the lake

A moody gray.

It feels as though

The day is waiting

For the rain and the night to fall.

I do hope it rains to water in the seeds and seedlings that we planted today. Almost everything is planted now, with only the tomatoes and peppers left to plant. Whew!


Where ever you are , whatever the weather, I wish you joy.

Garden Fresh

We eat "from the garden" all year long... dilly beans and salsa and concord grape juice. Still, those "jars of summer" cannot compare to eating fresh from the garden. It is lovely to skip down the garden rows and bring in great big handfuls of herbs for a green salad.

Today's bounty: cilantro, parsley, dill, sage, chives and sorrel.  

From Where I Sit

Sitting near lilacs makes waiting for someone sweeter.

These are just outside the car window at the bus stop.

Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you sweetness and joy.

Before the Storm

Before the storm,
we walked near the creek
Getting our toes wet
And our lungs full of
fresh air, swamp musk,
and the gossamer scent of violets.

Every fallen tree
A bridge to beauty.

Where ever you are, whatever The weather, I wish you beauty and a sense of belonging.