a river of stones, 7.31.11

There is something about the zoo concerts that is so quintessentially Portland.
Maybe it’s just the feeling of being part of gigantic lawn picnic, with 3800
of your best friends…

a river of stones, 7.30.11

When I take my evening walk, I notice something new happening with
the line of maple trees they planted last year by the side of the road.
Each one has a 20 gallon “treegator” bag strapped to it. Really,
whatever will they think up next? I’d like my own private water supply!

a river of stones, 7.29.11

Everywhere I go, it seems I see butterflies and dragonflies.
I wonder if there really are more of them around here this summer,
or if I’m just noticing them more.

a river of stones, 7.28.11

I’ve discovered there is a fine art to berry picking. The blueberries
roll easily off their stems, with a simple twist of the thumb and forefinger,
but the raspberries, on the other hand, seem to require gentle coercion.

a river of stones, 7.27.11

Although loath to admit it, I do have my favorites amongst my garden plants.
The camellia and nandina always look good and are extremely low maintenance–
what’s not to like? But the arbutus and barberry… don’t even get me started!

a river of stones, 7.26.11

As I lean in to pick a particularly ripe blueberry, I suddenly find myself
(literally) eye-to-eye with a garden spider. I welcome spiders into my garden
with (figuratively) open arms, but honestly, do they really have to spin
their webs in the most inconvenient places?

a river of stones, 7.25.11

I am mesmerized by the blinding sunlight, the pounding bass of the music,
the sea of people around us, and the mixed scents of garlic, pizza, beer,
and elephant dung. Ah… our first zoo concert of the summer…

a river of stones, 7.24.11

It’s not so much that I begrudge the robins the occasional blueberry.
It’s just that for every ripe blueberry they peck at, they manage to
knock another 3 or 4 unripe blueberries to the ground. The expression
“waste not, want not” runs through my head.

a river of stones, 7.23.11

savasana
a pale half-moon
in the morning sky

a river of stones, 7.22.11

I spend a good part of the afternoon digging out grass that has
grown in among my flowers, and clipping off flowering cherry tree suckers
that are coming up in the middle of my lawn. How much simpler
life would be, if we let things grow where they choose to grow.