Sparkling Lotus-land

shifting directions

The general landscape of Sparkling Lotus-land is changing on a daily basis.  Lush green knolls have been softened by the first drifts of New England asters.  Deep shadows beneath the trees are now brightened by brilliant flares of goldenrod flowers and gleaming scarlet belladona fruits.   The distinctive sharp-yet-honeyed scent of Queen Anne's Lace is everywhere. As the last few weeks of summer unwind themselves I've been enjoying daily therapeutic sun-sitting sessions in the center of the main garden bed.  It's felt so good to enter this part of my world very gently.  I'm enjoying a reconnected awareness of this beloved space from the perspective of a silent component.  It's quite different from pushing my way into the Other-ness of it all while being primarily immersed in a series of groundskeeping tasks.  There's plenty to see from my re-established stillpoint - including lots of insect drama.

And the evocative dream-nourishing scent of gardenia blooms is so wonderfully restorative that I tend to set my camp chair quite near the two bushes.  They smell stronger as the sun fades into evening but even at high noon they add a topnote of sweetness.

I believe one very important reason why the puzzling pile-up of health questions 'suddenly' began to form a strongly recognizable pattern is - you guessed it - my diligent work with flower essences.   I am continuing that regime with two brand new synergies that were formulated and prepared just a few short days before learning the results of my latest blood work.  I may have been thinking along somewhat specific pre-determined lines when I concocted the formulations but the healing applications of the essences I selected are also very well suited to my emergent needs.

Having modified my existing goals and expectations so that the bulk of my energy and focus can remain fixed on personal quantum healing needs, I really don't have much clue of what I'll be doing as summer melts into autumn.   The passageway of one season changing into another is very familiar and yet, during this particular transition, it's also virgin territory.

I'm resolved to stay as proactive and diligent as possible; understanding there will be slow and especially challenging days (today was one of them...) along with brilliant instances of profound growth and rejuvenation.  In the past week I've experienced some very positive shifts - in my attitude as well as direct circumstance.  My work output is modest and so is my daily to-do list.  This is something that's becoming more normalized for me and doesn't necessarily evoke panic or internalized alarm bells. And that, too, is progress - of a very useful and empowering nature!

broadleaf plantain

Readers may remember that Jim and I recently visited some Boston based community gardens on the banks of the Charles River.   When we lived in town we kept a plot in a space that was organized through the Boston Food Co-op.  It's really grown into a wonderful urban paradise in the past 15 years.  For instance, now they have two bee hives and a tiny orchard.

The fenced-in bee yard is bordered with fruit trees and a grape arbor.  The hives are placed along the outside chain link "wall" of the yard.  

I was extremely excited to see the bees; too excited to greet them with proper respect and deference.  Thus, as I leaned over the fence in eager joy and singleminded intent upon getting a close up picture of these beloved gardening friends, one of them stung me as a not so gentle rebuke.  It was definitely no accident; it was abundantly clear to me that I'd been put on notice and told quite firmly to mind my manners.

I absorbed this reproach with a sense of intense chagrin that mushroomed exponentially over the next few days.  This type of behavior was so very unlikely me I had trouble believing it had really happened.  The sting kept reminding me of my gaffe as I repeatedly wondered why I hadn't taken the extra moments to announce myself and get a sense of whether or not what I wanted had an actual place in the larger co-creative scheme of things. 

Directly after the incident I stood in the middle of a carefully nurtured hawthorn grove looking in vain for the stinger.  I never did find it and the sharp ache in my arm was quite distracting for the next two days.   Herbalists know what I did about that, right?

 

Fortunately the moist clay-like soil of the river bank (and my yard here at home) contains an abundance of broadleaf plantain.  This plant is a wonderful healing ally that serves as a powerful drawing agent.  I make plantain cream each year and find it invaluable for stubborn splinters or embedded plant thorns.  Plantain's healing properties will indeed draw the splinter or thorn fragment closer to the surface.  Removal becomes much easier and the skin's healing time is accelerated.

 

I also know any number of folks who rely on the herb for relief from an insect bite or sting.  The drawing power works on heat and itchiness as well as foreign bodies lodged in the skin.   While still at the bee yard I dealt with the situation Old School - chewing on a leaf until it was partially macerated and then holding the mushed results directly on the sting site.  It wasn't a miracle cure but it did make the discomfort level shrink to a shadow of what it might have been otherwise.  

While we're on the subject - Plantain flower essence is a wonderful addition to any electrical medicine cabinet.  Follow the link for a bit more information.  You might also enjoy harvesting the plant's leaves  to infuse in oil (if you do this, try to find some chickweed to include as well.  The combination is wonderful for all manner of itches and scrapes) OR as an inclusion in an herbal vinegar infusion. Such brews produce an excellent digestive tonic. I like to use organic cider vinegar to steep a pint or so of organic raspberries, generous handfuls of plantain and mugwort leaves, and one whole dandelion plant including flowers and root.*  After the infusion has been strained for use, the liquid can be taken 1/2 or 1 teaspoon (start on the smaller end and let your body decide what's right for you) in a glass of water, used in salad dressings, or (my favorite) stir fry marinades.

Making healthful remedies during the summer's harvest season is a wonderful way to 'pay it forward' as preparation for maintaining a balanced healthy body during the colder part of the year.  Having a digestive-friendly vinegar tonic on hand is a boon for the body's metabolic system - especially during the months when it's hard or impossible to find fresh local greens.

* please make sure to use a container with a glass or plastic lid.  If you don't have one and must use a metal lid MAKE SURE to place a doubled layer of waxed paper between the lid and the bottle's mouth.  vinegar is quite corrosive and an unprotected metal lid with rust, thus spoiling the brew.

uncovering

Lately I've been living the truth of things changing radically while also remaining the same.  An example:  flower essences and all manner of co-creative process have once again become the primary themes in my daily world and professional life.  Somewhere in the midst of this rainy unusual summer I have found the bulk of my e-mail and snail mail correspondence relating to essences; it's kind of like the Old Days when I was working on the Handbook and thinking or writing about flower healing potentiality 'round the clock more days than not.  There's a lovely home-coming sensibility to this particular shift and I perceive it informing all the other changes and mainstay points of focus.

Very familiar subjects/life interests can look quite different at times.  Especially when we take a step back from our best known pathways and approach the same end results or topical overviews from different angles.  Maybe we uncover trail markers left in an earlier time.  Perhaps we ourselves made the markers; maybe they were left by those who have proven to be of lasting influence and inspiration.

In the past month I've been quite busy.  It's proven to be an intensely industrious span of activity rather than simply busy-making for its own sake.  There have been no clear cut plans fueling things so much as a continuous unfolding of circumstance & opportunity.  A couple of things I did [attempt to] plan have dropped by the wayside including a backlog of draft-level posts I still want to publish on this blog.  It's all moved from the ongoing aspiration of tomorrow or the next day to whenever that actually happens.

This morning I took some time away from this desk so I could begin excavating the main garden beds.  Everything has grown to monumental proportions thanks to all the rain we've been having.  I find it hard to know where to begin and equally difficult to decide when it's time to stop.  The wheelbarrow helps me gauge how much energy I ought to expend at any given time.  Once it's full I move on to something less strenuous, at least for little while...

I brought my camera on today's walk over to the post office.  Needed to get some images of a particular medicinal herb and, along the way, I took pictures of the seeding Queen Anne's Lace.  The one above will be my screen saver for the next few weeks; reminding me that some activities are not just a means to their own end.  They also set the seeds for a future growing season I can only imagine in the haziest sense from this here-and-now vantage point.

inside & out

Yesterday I literally woke up in a state of beginner's mind.  It was raining and I found my ears and inner consciousness highly attuned to the atmosphere.  Looking through the window I could see the silver maple branches looming through mist.  The sound of water hitting leaves and grounds has become very familiar here in the northeast.  I am the first to admit that I am not always delighted by it; sometimes I wake up feeling restless for sunlight.

I noticed right away that there was an absence of even a glimmer of that restlessness.  I was glad it was raining.  I felt myself cleansed by it at a psychic and emotional level.   This was like finding a very smooth and super appealing river stone - the kind you have to bend over and retrieve to turn it around in your palm.  You stare as if it's a scrying mirror even if you don't believe in such things.

Later the sun came out and I was even more delighted.   Grabbed my camera to move through the jeweled green and colorful highlights of the garden beds.  It occurred to me that I was remaining utterly willing to stay suspended in the moment.  I wasn't doing anything to be in that place; it's just how I was at the core level.  To my way of thinking this kind of extended trance is always an enormous gift of Self for self as well as the larger environment.

I wasn't planning to share the following life tidbit but, since I think the experience and my reaction to it has so much to do with my state of ongoing zen, I've decided what the hell.  On Tuesday afternoon I was cleaning my kitchen floor.  Right after I started the second rinse I fell.  I hit the floor hard in a fullout belly flop position.  My mind registered the loud and rather sickening smack of my body making contact with the linoleum.  I realized most of weight had landed on my knee (the "bad" one I might add) and that I'd hit my nose pretty hard.

My first fully formed thought was thank god I didn't make floor contact with my mouth.  I might have cracked some teeth.  Then I thought shit.  I said it out loud a couple of times.  That left me free to shake the shock off enough to be practical and start a useful campaign of response. I thought Ice.  Get up off this floor and put some ice on your nose and knee.  As the day progressed into evening I realized I was bruised but not broken.  And, thanks to the ice and how diligently I applied it, I wasn't that bruised, either.

I knew I was going to wake up very sore and, indeed, yesterday was quite slowed down in the physical sense.  Fortunately I was in the middle of reading an excellent novel so that helped me stay quiet and relaxed while my body healed.  This involved wearing glasses more than I usually do so by nightfall the bridge of my nose was pretty damn sore.  Fortunately my knee is doing quite well.  All of me is fine.  And I have had the gratifying experience of re-calling the accident in minute detail for my husband and son.

It's a weird form of satisfaction to take but there's definitely something cleansing about standing on the scene of an accident and going through a play-by-play.  And then I went down, right there.  Look how close I was to the sink!  I could have whacked my head but good on that or the edge of the counter but I didn't!  I do feel extremely lucky about not hitting my head.  And, also, that I fell front-ways rather than backwards.  If I'd done the latter I'm pretty sure I would have wrenched my back and, more than likely, still not able to sit here at my desk this morning.

While I was icing my body I watched a film called Stranded.  It is partially a documentary and also a re-enactment of a South American plane wreck in the early 1970's.  In recent times the survivors traveled to the site of their 72 day ordeal with a film crew and some family members.  This is not a movie for the squeamish or faint of heart but I believe it's an extremely well made film and am quite glad to have seen it.   So many difficult and seemingly 'impossible' subjects were embraced and articulated as an expressive mandala of tremendous significance.

Today I woke up before the rain started.  But now here it is again moving from a soft patter to more serious rhythms.  As I was typing that sentence a female hummingbird approached the window by my desk.  She hovered right above eye level and looked in at me.  This is only the second time I've seen a hummingbird this year. Must be time to change the feeder syrup!

The novel I've been enjoying really was a fully satisfying read.  I learned about it by happening upon a glowing review in The Improper Bostonian while I was waiting for Jim to finish a meeting the weekend we went into town.  I was intrigued enough to list the book in my carry-along all purpose notebook and then request it through inter-library loan.  This is wonderful story of two sisters, culture clashes, unalterable/regrettable choices, and many other things.  Tania James has a sharp and humanistic eye for detail and a profoundly generous heart that's well applied to character development and internalized landscaping.

In recent months I have been collecting a lot of book cover art to keep in my creative source journal.  I am making note of design trends as well as what I like about them.  Sometimes the covers inspire me to play on their themes.  In this case it will be challenging not to mimic what I like in a direct fashion.  Because I've been thinking:  in the atlas of my own 'unknowns' what linear maps of actual places form the backcloth and highlights?  It's a question that's bringing a great deal to mind and so last night I asked my husband - the compulsive map collector - if he had anything on hand that was too worn out to use/obsess over but still whole enough to provide graphic interest.

He told me he'd 'bring the box down' so I could look through it.  I almost clutched at him with excitement.  He has an entire box of such treasures?  I think I sort of knew that without having a clue of how much delighted anticipation I'd feel at the prospect of benefiting from perusal of the cache ...

everything all at once

As is typical of summer's midpoint the form and texture of the garden is drastically changed.  For the past few days we've had sun for several hours and most of the rain has been coming at night.  I feel like my life is mirroring the same sort of extreme weather patterns and intensive hyper-growth.  At this point I have two other posts in draft mode but they both need more attention before they're ready for posting.

I've been involved with so many different things in the past week that it's really difficult to summarize.  A lot of attention has needed to go to SLI concerns.  There has been an explosion of orders for flower essences.  I usually order dropper bottles etc. every quarter year.  Each time I get roughly twice as many bottles as I think I will need.  Last week I had to place an 'emergency' order to keep pace with the output.  So it's been dizzying especially since I was re-routing some orders during the period of time when I was unwell and felt this left me too energetically unbalanced to handle the mother stocks or any flower essences that weren't meant strictly for my own use.

It would seem I got healthy just in time!  In the midst of the flurrying activity I felt it wise to do a bit of updating on my website.  If you haven't visited in a while, you may want to take a look.

Some weeks back I prepared a key lime flower essence.  Lime remedies are wonderful cleansers - just like the rest of the citrus family.   Key lime has a special affinity for helping us to make wise choices and important decisions that will showcase and invigorate our personal strong suits and most significant healing powers.  I have been working with this essence personally for the past week or so and I really love it.  Lime essences are super-restorative and they do wonders for the the secondary heart and hand chakras as well as eye-hand-heart coordination.

My key lime plant has set fruit as well as a fresh flush of blooms.  I am so besotted by these developments that it isn't even funny.  Most days I try to take at least five or ten minutes to just sit quietly with this plant. It's worth the effort even though "quiet" and my garden are something of a contradiction of terms at the moment.  I am really hoping I will have a chance to get some tidying chores done over the next couple of days.  Taking some concentrated creative time in my work room is also super-important to me. 

 

Amidst the general acceleration of orders there's been a run on the gardenia ray panacea.  It's right in line with a new flush of gardenia buds.  This is another plant that I try to sit with as often as possible.  I have two fortuniana bushes that have been with me since they were only two sprigs in tiny pots from Logees.

As many readers know I prepare each flower essence on a per-order basis.  It's not the most efficient system but I believe it is the most potentizing for the essences, my overall relationship with the attendant plant medicine spirits, and an individual connection-link for recipients of the remedies.   When I was preparing the first panacea synergy in the run I noticed that the comfrey essence has been compromised.  I decided to switch it out with a simple triad blend that contains feverfew and prunella as well as comfrey. 

Over the weekend, when the sun finally broke through, I was able to prepare a new comfrey essence.  It was an unexpected opportunity; I had just finished explaining to several customers that I had no idea when I'd be able to do this so I'd been making the Triage Trio substitution in the panacea synergy's recipe.  My surprise at the unexpected opportunity to co-create with the comfrey flowers was underlined by a flair of appreciation for the garden spirits' sense of humor.  It never fails even when mine temporarily takes a long walk off a short peer...

old stompings grounds

Jim and I spent Friday afternoon and early evening in Boston and Cambridge.  The pictures in this post are from our lunchtime visit to two community gardens along the Charles River.

We brought camp chairs and burritos for a little picnic beside the Christian Herter Community Garden.   It was a relaxing nostalgic experience to return to the scene of many enjoyable hours during our years in Boston.  After we'd eaten we visited the nearby Charles River gardens where we kept a plot during our last three summers in town.

Walking along the edges of both spaces and vicariously enjoying so many different plots brimming with life was enormous fun.  I found it especially inspiring to see how much the Charles River gardens have matured in the 13 years since I last visited them.  Now there is a small orchard and bee yard ... more on that particular addition a bit later in the week.

I have never made much of a secret out of the fact that I still miss Boston a great deal.  People who only know me in the context of my current environment often find it inconceivable that I spent so many years living in the city.   They cannot believe that I thrived in an urban setting but, indeed, I did.  Everytime I return I find myself torn between simply enjoying the moment and wishing it was somehow possible to live in two places at the same time...

on the cusp of more rain

note:  see asterik* at the end of this post for ideas of how lemon balm tincture may be employed.

This morning I was all caught up with finding a specific fabric in the cedar closet.  Then I was busy writing in my journal about the other things I hope to accomplish today.  Finally I got outside to harvest lemon balm for tincture-making.   Time was of the essence because (a) the plant is starting to set the earliest form of flower buds and I don't like to mess much with growing things while they are in their active flowering process and (b) it looked & felt like it would rain any minute.

Over the winter I read a recipe from Susun Weed that called for three consecutive infusions of lemon balm leaves.   Can't recall the source right now and do not have extra time or energy for searching so I'll have to publish an addendum at some indeterminate future time.  But I do recall the gist of the instructions.  I hoped to make a triple blend this year but fear I didn't get to it early enough in the season.  So this will probably wind up being just two consecutive infusions.

Given the rain-filled storm clouds overhead, I harvested the herb before walking down to the package store for some 100% vodka.  Then I returned to strip the leaves from the stems.  This is a very pleasant way to spend time; I like to take my time and let the occasion bring me in that much greater mindful appreciation of the plant medicine spirit.

Susun offered a rather whimsical way of judging how much plant material to use.  She likens it to building a fairy mattress:- pack a jar too loosely and the fairy will fall through the empty spaces BUT pack too firmly and the fairy will not be able to rest.  I remember this detail of the recipe quite clearly. 

Having made innumerable tinctures over the years I am aware that a wide-mouthed pint canning jar will yield a generous year's worth of healing medicine for my family and first circle of friends.   Quite awhile back I posted a mini tutorial on tincture preparation.  Today I couldn't put my hands on a wooden chopstick or bamboo skewer that hasn't been used to stir or mix paint.   So I substituted the plastic end of a barbecue fork to ease-out air bubbles once the jar was filled with vodka.

The picture above illustrates how crucial it is to get rid of the air in the jar.  Can you see how much extra room developed?  All that space needs to be filled to the brim with more vodka.   To ease-out the bubbles I begin by gently pressing down in the center of the plant material.  Then I very carefully and gently press down around the edges of the jar.  It takes a few complete circlings of the edges to release all the air.   Following the first complete circle I very gently rock the mini-masher while I'm turning the jar.  The additional agitation releases lots more air bubbles.

NOTE:   If you have a blender you can prepare your maceration by filling the jar with herbs and vodka.   Dump the mixture in the blender and process on "chop".  Pour the results back into the bottle.  There won't be much air to release but take a few gentle stirs until the mixture is quiet and bubble free.  Then add vodka to the brim.  I killed my blender processing elecampane roots and haven't yet replaced it so, until I do, this season's tinctures are coming to life in a low-tech way.

Since the mashing process compacts the bottom levels of plant matter, I invert the bottle for a week or so in order to distribute the contents more evenly.  In a perfect world macerating tinctures should be shaken vigorously on a daily basis.  In reality you can simply do this whenever you happen to remember the task.   I recommend placing the bottles - out of direct sunlight, please - in very plain sight (if you have room upon any sort of healing altar, that would makes an ideal home for this project-in-progress) so that it's easier to remember to shake them.   Six to eight weeks after you begin this process, double strain the infusion through unbleached coffee filters and pour into dropper bottles.  LABEL the bottles.  I include the name (common and botanical) of the tincture, the year it was prepared, and a few keywords that indicate how it might be used.

Back at the general making stage of things be sure to label all macerations with the name of the tincture and when you began the infusion process.  I also like to add the sun and moon sign of the herbal harvest.  Additionally I make a notation on the family's wall calendar on the date when the infusion is ready to be strained.  And I keep all information (starting and straining dates) recorded in a personal datebook that's devoted to my various healing endeavors. 

As time passes I find these datebooks to be invaluable reference tools.  I keep a record of all flower essence preparations as well as tincture and oil infusions.  I like using the We'Moon datebook for this purpose because the daily calendar contains a wealth of astrological data, including very precise lunar information.

* Lemon balm is a sedative so I always advise adding just a few drops to a juice glass of water.  Although it's a very mild sedative it's best to see how the property interacts with your body before increasing the dosage one drop at a time.

The tincture may be helpful for insomnia.  It's also wonderful for any occasion of high-stress and overwork;  I know people who keep half ounce dropper bottles in their day pack, by the phone, and at the computer. 

The plant also has anti-depressant qualities which make it useful for sadness - especially the kind that comes from Seasonal Affect Disorder.  Classically, the tincture (or tea) is advised for relief from flu symptoms.   As a digestive aid I have found lemon balm particularly nice for the sense of uncomfortable bloating than can follow a rich meal holding a higher far content than one's regular diet.

Lemon balm is also anti-bacterial and anti-fungal.  It's nice to add a few drops to water (add a drop or two of lavender bud tincture, too, if you've got it...) that's meant as a mouth rinse.  I also like to add it to rinsing water following a pedicure.  If your arms and legs have gotten scratched-up from working in the garden or walking in woods or fields, take a small bowl of water laced with a few drops of the tincture into your bath or shower.  Dip your washcloth in the bowl and run it gently over the scrapes and scratches as an initial cleansing process.  Use any remaining liquid as a final rinse.

resurfacing

This picture was taken on Sunday morning to document the out-of-control quality of the rainy garden.  Since then there's been more sun than rain.  And I am feeling well enough to get out there for at least a few minutes of task mastering each day.   Have been focused mainly on cutting back some of the herbs before they come into flower.  Anise hyssop and lemon balm have received the most attention from me.  Both leaves make nice teas.

Lemon balm is a wonderfully soothing digestive aid that can be a special friend to those with thyroid imbalances.   Many of my herb-savvy friends sent me articles about this ally while I was dealing with the most overt symptoms of Graves Disease.  While the plant holds strong affinity for over active thyroid issues it can also punch-up an under-functioning gland as well.  The herb also holds mild sedative and anti-depressant properties.  It's extremely easy to grow - falling into the invasive plant category for many gardeners.  I don't mind how much the plant expands because I adore its energy.

Anise hyssop is nice for sinus congestion.  The plant has a warming property that makes it especially good for chilly days throughout the fall season.  I have also been harvesting spearmint.  This is one of my favorite simple remedies for a host of common ailments.  It's a very good digestive aid; not as harsh as peppermint so that makes it a good and solid choice for the whole family. 

Each year I make fresh tincture from the leaves.  This is good for a "quick" digestive aid especially at times when brewing up a cup of tea simply isn't practical.  You can keep a small dropper bottle of tincture on ready hand in the medicine cabinet and a purse or backpack.  The remedy will also come in handy for headaches.  Try this if you are traveling and stuck in a hermetically sealed room with stale air:  Moisten a washcloth with hot water .  Place a few drops of the tincture on the side of the washcloth that will not lay directly against your face.  Lay the cloth against your forehead and relax for 10-20 minutes. 

note:  this kind of refreshment may be especially helpful when you are cutting back on caffeine or getting rid of it altogether.

My latest round of health concerns has given me plenty of time to think about ways I might enhance and refine my general quality of life.    And, also, to re-visit my core priorities.  After awhile I think we get so accustomed to that core that we don't necessarily question whether or not decisions we've made in the past tense still serve us as well as we need to be served by our own choice-making process.

For the past week I have been watching the white climbing roses pictured above coming into bloom just beyond my desk window.  I have spent the time I've been at my desk working on a writing project  that will need a lot more energy and focus to reach a publishable form.  It has seemed as if the climbing roses have been talking to me about the ways I'll need to make shifts in order to reach my goals in way that will be effective as well as satisfying.

Well.  On the other hand it nearly always seems as if some flowering plant or another is talking to me ...

rare sunlight

I was delighted to see some sunlight today.  It's become something of a unique experience in these parts!  Am still a bit under the weather but have started to come around; my online absence was caused by a bacterial infection that's been quite uncomfortable and a little scary.  Over the past five days I've spun myself a healing cocoon that's been well-buffered by family, some good books, and the garden.

Everything smells so wonderful right now.  There are innumerable roses in bloom, the tail end of the mock oranges, and garden heliotrope a/k/a valerian.

In the early afternoon Celeste and I had a fine time exploring a variety of overgrown details.   The abundance of rain has led to growth so lush it may take me some time to create order in the beds.  But I do admit to having a preference for ragged edges and a good measure of wildness so it's all well when it zens.  Right now the main pathways are little more than game trails.  It's a very good place to disappear within the landscape and enjoy a closer look at the proliferation of the green nations.

Many of the plants are getting a bit leggy from the lack of sunlight.  The sweet fennel is already taller than I am and the goldenrod and globe thistles are at eye level. 

The Spirea japonica bush has just begun to bloom.  I pruned it fairly severely in mid-spring but that has only encouraged such bounteous growth that I'm in a bit of shock.  Must get an overhead shot from my bedroom window so you can see what I mean.

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I hope the sun will make another appearance for at least part of the day.  Most of our family celebrations hold a strong focus on special meals and visits to extra-favorite locations.  Plus birthdays always mean cake.  This year I'll need a postponement on these staples of how we roll.   Am far too week for a trip to the beach or even Snow Pond and still don't have much of an appetite.  But I'm definitely in a good mood and have every expectation that I'll continue to recuperate at a steady pace.  Will try to resume blog visiting on Wednesday...

the long sun daze

The garden is bursting with lovely flowers; each and every one of them clamoring for the elusive sun.  That bright Grandfather has been playing hide and seek for most of the day.  The house is smudged, relatively clean, and now we are preparing for drums & rattles as evening rises to greet us.

I like to burn gold candles in honor of solstice points but couldn't find any today.  Luckily, during a recent visit to a free trade gift store, I selected the pair above on the off chance I'd need a back up plan.  We are celebrating the summer solstice all weekend long.   And have decided to make some noise tonight lest the sun forget us all together!

This coquettish baby snake is serving as a representation for all the new changes and unexpected twists of fate & design.  Love her bright green eyes!

There are orange calendula and yellow rose bouquets flanking the ceremonial candles.

Aren't the yellow foxgloves lovely?  There are dozens of blooming stalks scattered throughout the beds.

And the airy fairy meadow rue is at full peak.  Earlier today I counted 33 flower heads on the angelica plant pictured below.

These fringed loveliness dianthus flowers are incredibly fragrant.  I can smell them from my bedroom (sweet dreams indeed!) even though they are a house-length away and at ground level.

Pick up a rattle, or some other favorite noise maker, and join me won't you?