From the Pulpit

Sunday brought a perfect pairing of warm temperatures and bright sunshine for Mother’s Day.

My Antler Man was busy indoors, preparing brunch and shooing me out of the kitchen, which was, I must say, a much appreciated reason to be shooed. With a freshly brewed cup of warmth in hand, I wandered out to the arbor to sit for a spell – and to see what nature brought forth whilst I was sleeping.

I noticed some twigs poking out of an old bird house I was thinking of throwing out and wondered if someone was setting up housekeeping. Sure enough, I heard the unmistakable chattering of wrens. How vociferous they are for such tiny birds! In and out and all about, Mr. and Mrs. were gathering material for a nest. It will be awesome watching a family of wrens at such an advantageous angle.

Robins are also nesting nearby. They stopped for a dip and sip at the bird baths – and the orioles are back!  I have not sighted them yet, but, can hear their distinctive song high up in the sycamores.

Mr. Woodchuck waddled about, then scurried back to his hole when he sensed my presence. Woodchucks are rather shy and keep a low profile – and now, I have a hankering to re-read ” The Wind in the Willows”.

I sat in the arbor, commonly called Penny’s Arbor House and, more recently, compliments of our Ezra, Papa’s Tree House. The beauty of mid-morning was a welcome gift here on the Cutoff.

Having missed church service, I took a little wander around the plantings the arbor anchors. Solomon’s seal is spreading among the pulmonaria. Clematis are running a race heavenward, seeing who can reach the top first. A climbing rose, whose name is lost to me now, has thrust her thorny branches hither and yon with the promise of blooms when the time is just right.

As I listened to the hymn of nature, I was drawn to a Sunday sermon, for there, at my feet, was Jack, preaching from his pulpit.

Advertisement

Read Full Post »

When summer comes to the Cutoff

Summer is officially here on the Cutoff. Most days are warm and humid, with a few brilliant, perfect days scattered in between, and just as many thunderous days and nights with rain. The peonies are finished, but . . . the roses and clematis have been having a grand time, holding court for days on end, and buds are forming on the Echinacea and daisies. Why, just today the bee balm joined the chorus. Yes, my friends, it is summer on the Cutoff, with a poem that showed up in my inbox this morning and seemed to be written just for us!

The oriole sings in the greening grove

As if he were half-way waiting,

The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,

Timid and hesitating.

The rain comes down in a torrent sweep

And the nights smell warm and piney,

The garden thrives, but the tender shoots

Are yellow-green and tiny.

Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,

Streams laugh that erst were quiet,

The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue

And the woods run mad with riot. 

Summer in the South by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Read Full Post »

Open Days – part 2

The second garden we visited on last Sunday’s Open Days was a mass of color and texture, ponds and walkways. Peonies danced with roses and the poppies were showing off in a profusion of riotous blooms.

In among the flowers, glass artwork caught the sun.

This one brought to mind, for me, Dr. Seuss.

A new use for an old bird cage.

A clambering noise from the pond drew us in, with this fellow making the most racket, as his friends sat or swam nearby.

Of course, I couldn’t resist the clematis now, could I?

Read Full Post »