this is a very wide plant, so the flower was huge…
a treasure…on a side trail…in an urban garden…
To my unknown love, wherever she is
your white flowers wait for you
among common leaves.
did you know they would be there for you
beneath the wild awakening trees?
my boots hurt my feet
while walking this path
to see your flowers
majestic white wonder
a silent witness of hope and faith
and i may wait for a long, long time
but the flowers won’t wait forever.
it wasn’t sunny…but this snake found a spot by the creek bank to soak up the fragrant air of a cloudy spring day.
…a snake’s view of the creek and scenery below…
and on another part of the trail, a smaller slithering creature surprised me…
before a spattering of rain dampened my boots and sent other creatures home to their beds…
or under some leaves….
in the foggy mountain dew
in the taste of a mourn
slipping between the heather
like clouds between the sun.
choked upon as mentioned
hindsight years ago
now among the climbers
cheeks and tears aglow.
we will part from the past
upon these upward trail gashes
those tales beneath our boots
digging deeper in the fastness.
and all along the mountainside
her flowers weave more wonders
how can I sweep in panoramas
without putting the past asunder?
As summer’s flowers bloom, summer’s travelers invade the asphalt pathways of the Arboretum, a spectacle of identified species arranged in bouquets of wonder. Windows slide down, dog ears flap in the breeze, and more than a few children stop their “adults” to bargain for a potty break, the snack bar, or “can we go get ice cream now?” Still more vehicles inch along the narrow paved parkway, backing up traffic and tempers, as patience becomes either a practiced virtue or a lacking character trait. It is a puzzle to me- in these circumstances- that anyone can thoroughly enjoy each and every species of flowering vegetation and tree.
I know. As I examined this particular tree- trying to determine why it was special when it resembled too many I’ve seen “in the wild,” a vehicle, approaching the speed of light…or the speed of irritation…caught my footing and frame in a sudden gust and a sudden bottom-sitting episode. As the next vehicle slowed to investigate, I struggled to attain a horizontal view…best not to look stupid while enjoying the beauty of these…
…which remind me of home…several hours away in the mountains…where are the unusual things?
…which prompted me to follow another vehicle into the parking area for the museum and snack shop. Once inside, I discovered a treasure-load of information- all the information I needed to actually determine where I was, what I was looking at, and how to move around…in this maze they call The Arboretum.
…the second time around made a whole lot more sense, helped me find short cuts around “stalled” vehicles, and allowed me to skip the mundane.
If you are traveling this summer, and are in Ohio (USA), visit Dawes Arboretum, about ten minutes north of Interstate 70, just south of Newark, Ohio.
Saturday, as I hiked and climbed among my father’s kingdom, I discovered a lone flower, as the light from a fading afternoon slipped away from the tangled flora of the Laurel Creek Valley. Now, the snow covers it and most of the world around here. Spring seems a distant hope…
Yet, here in the vale of another place, the thaw has caught fever, streams running into seams in the pavement, and the promise is returning…slowly. There are few of those now that one can trust, but like the hope of a father who loves his children with all his heart, so this too always returns, to embrace us with more signs of miracles. For every one of the lone dandelions that emerge, every one of the facets of green, point to a promise we all can trust, and that trust will never fade into winter…