This astilbe looks like purple pine trees. Next are first blooms on my daisies and a huge begonia. My poor double hollyhock has lost most of its leaves due to wet weather. Some of my blooms are being picked by a neighbor boy, he said they blew over in his yard. I enjoy watching them play house, but told him to ask when they needed table decorations.
We all maintain a selfless profusion of story, myth and fable in our cultures, circumventing our existence from a Father or Mother. Whether we ascended or descended from a particular region it was often the ecology of our world, that brought us into this world. Many Native Americans ascended from the bowels of the earth, on roots or openings offered to them from nature. Funny how their theories of life preceded all geological investigations that tell us our world all comes from within. What is now was once and again, carried over eons of time. Carried from our mountains, through the massive plains, down our rivers and streams, to be carried away to great ocean depths, in a gradual progression through time.
Was there a social order that man interrupted? If all that exist carry the story, this story of life, we interrupt all or part of this continued communication and stall our spiritual progression when we disturb it. How can we make repairs, is it by ignoring all but what will interrupt our menial existence? It is up to all of us to decide, and carry out a lifestyle that can be continued and enjoyed by generations.
A knock came at the back door. A ragged man asked if they had any handouts. Why had he chosen their door, over the nicer homes. She did not know what to say, this had not happened for years. He said the mark said you might have odd jobs for a meal. Mark? What mark told him such, being new to the area? She told him to wait, and closed the door. Her breath was ahead of her thoughts. She put some leftover chicken and bread on a plate, and grabbed a fork for him to eat. She would have him dine on their porch, where they ate in the summer. He sat down to a Sunday dinner on Tuesday, he said, and ate all she offered plus the rest of the loaf of wonderful bread with chokecherry jam. Looking out at their small woodpile, he offered to split some logs to pay for his meal, and worked for one hour before quietly leaving. When her husband came home, he laughed at not seeing the hobo sign on his back gate, often put as a sign of welcome on the various camps they passed on the massive steam engine. He told her to be friendly and share their spirit and food with all that came to their door, as long as they offered to do a service.
Their move to the city was very different from their prairie oasis. They were told by a neighbor to always lock their door, an inconvenience they never even had when they first bought their prairie home. Modern convenience had outweighed their love for living rural, and they would never return, for many generations. They enjoyed helping others, as they had been helped in their lives also. Looking at the stars at night, they did share and relive proud moments on the prairie. Su corazon late tan fuerte cuando esta feliz, your heart beats so loud when you are happy. They reminisced many happy times, sipping coffee on their veranda, souls stirred by a cool prairie breeze.
Pride and passion
It’s not the latest fashion
But something you find
When you are in love.