Stormy evening

Tonight, just as I arrived home a severe storm blew in with high winds, torrential rain, and, as my friend Midge would say, "lots of crashy bangy." The lightning was fierce and if it was not so lush and green currently it would have started many fires. I notice swaths of grasses are flat, and I saw Mr and Mrs Bluebird being buffeted by the wind and rain; they could not return to the nest under the eaves. They are now sitting on the fence preening and getting their feathers in the right place again. I think I will do the same!

Bluebird

I wish I were a bluebird
I’d fly to the headwaters of the river
Watch as Mayflies flit in the still air
Dive three times to catch dinner
Ride a swift current heavenward
Then glide easily back to the telephone line
Let the breeze ruffle my feathers
While I think about falling suddenly
Blue into blue

Snow in Summer

Much has been happening in my life of late and my walking program went downhill for a few days. This morning I was up at 5.00 a.m so took the opportunity to go for an early morning walk. I had the mosquito spray in my pocket - but it was still cool and they did not bother me.

It felt good to be outdoors again and did wonders for my brain.

I noticed the cotton caught in the grasses by the side of the road - looking like a skift of snow.

The carp are jumping of late and make a big splash. Earlier this spring they were spawning for 2 days and what a wonderful sight - rolling over and over, their gold scales glinting in the sun.

Later I was treated to the sight of a fox crossing the road. He was thin and scrawny, so I called my neighbor with chickens to let her know that old Reynard was about. Reminded me of the french fable "Le Corbeau et Le Reynard" (The Crow and the Fox) that we had to memorize in French class in high school.

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casually he strolls

tail held like flag at half mast

looking for chickens

Contemplation

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witches broom aphids
death by slow strangulation
hidden in tree bark

At the end of a hard day

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we can always find

in unexpected places

the wonder of beauty

Phoebes and Flowers

I have come to the conclusion that Phoebes have very small brains, and those that they do have are excreted all down the window frames! As you can see from the photos above, she chooses to build her nest in the rain-gutter every year; it is a wonder that the nest isn't washed away and the babies drowned - amazing that they survive.

We are experiencing a lot of June storm activity with rain almost every day. Billings had a tornado last night that severely damaged the MetraPark.

About 12 years ago we created a rock garden on the north side of the house, and planted various perennials. Then along came five severely hot summers along with drought, and it became overgrown with grass. The plants died out. This morning I noticed a lone Iris that survived and will soon bloom, so maybe I must think like a Phoebe and realize - no effort is ever wasted.

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phoebe builds her nest

wild flax hears her plaintive cry

as iris stutters

Mid-June

The rain and storms have quit for now and it is overcast today. My husband is home from the hospital and we are taking things slowly as he recouperates. The garden is overgrown but it is lovely to see the Meadow Sage in Bloom and Snowy has found a volunteer Catnip plant which delights her. After a feast she sits on the bench by the door; one would think she is acting as "guard cat" but I think in actual fact she is just dazed from her drug of choice! The Mustard is now blooming down on the Three Circle Ranch meadows just below the hill, after this the Sweet Clover blooms so sneezing is still in fashion.

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fog covers the land

brilliant and blue meadow sage

dispels gloom of clouds

Candles of the Lord

The yucca are budding and reminding me of a piece I wrote some time ago:

Candles of the Lord

by Chris Valentine

June is such a beautiful month in Montana. It is the month of rain, and along with suddenly fluctuating temperatures, the wildflowers bloom in profusion, even the cactus are decked out in their robes of yellow silk.

The Yucca are in bud, their creamy spires abundantly strewn across the hills. I remember the western term for them, Candles of the Lord, and I consider biblical times wondering about candles and Christ.

In his life Christ received light from olive oil lamps, carefully tended by the women of the house, as they had for generations. Exodus 27-20 , says “And you shall command the children of Israel that they bring to you pure beaten olive oil for the light, that a lamp may be set up to burn continually. In the tent of meeting outside the veil, which is before the testimony, Aaron and his sons shall tend it from evening to morning before the Lord. It shall be a statute for ever to be observed throughout their generations, by the people of Israel.”

Mary lit the lamps in the evening for the baby Jesus who played in the low light. Did Mary Magdalene light a lamp in later years to celebrate a visit from her Savior? Lamps were strewn across the supper tables and were present at the last supper. Did Nicodemus carry a lamp for Joseph of Arimathea when they fetched Jesus’ body to embalm, and entomb in the garden of Gethsemane?

The Light of the World was surrounded by light. The crisp, clear light of the Mediterranean lands in which he traveled, lamps, and above all, the light of love from his family and friends.

We light candles in church when we pray for those close to us and for our world. Christ needed lights primed by those around him. He depended on them for his own vision and to find the way in his journey on this earth. As Christ did, we need our own light primed too, by those around us. Our family, friends, daily companions at work all give light to us and receive light from us, if we choose to give it back.

Let us always remember Candles of the Lord, receive the light of his love, and reflect that light towards others.

Daily Haiku

cream spires of yucca

reach toward the bluebird nest

safe under the eaves

Rosebud County

Before I came to this country in 1964, I went to the college library trying to find Birney on a map. Largely, I was unsuccessful, but then I found an old atlas of the USA and there it was, right in Rosebud County! What a wonderful place to go, I thought. I later found the name appropriate, because in June many wild rose bushes carry delightful pink single petaled roses, such as the one in the picture above, they are even fragrant. I transplanted many of them around our house putting them by fence posts that would channel water down to them, in this arid climate.

Another rose is in full bloom currently, and that is the Harrison's Yellow Shrub Rose. Brought out here by the pioneers who took snippets from their eastern gardens. It is a true survivor, coming into it's glory at the beginning of June each year. The streets in Sheridan,WY. are full of houses with them spilling over the fence or wall. In all, in June take time to sniff the flowers.

Daily Haiku

harrison's yellow

explodes color and competes

with wild pink dog rose

Roads and Honeysuckle

Things seem to be moving as far as getting better roads. The road grader was busy this morning on the road north of our hill, and we had a visit from the Rosebud County Roads Foreman who told us they will be working to get the roads in better shape. We will have new gravel on it by fall. He is sending a second grader to work on the road south.

It is a cloudy day but the temperature is a pleasant 72'. I am getting ready to leave for the Wyoming Writer's Conference in Cody, and at the moment seem to be running in circles with too much on my mind and no decision as to what to do first. I need to slow down and as Peter said this morning" Turn things over".

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aroma so sweet
honeysuckle in flower
bees are in rapture

Off-road notes

When we drove to Sheridan yesterday we took the "back" road - up Hanging Woman Creek and Lee Creek, then over the divide south to Decker and Sheridan.

The countryside is incredibly green from all the moisture and the view from the divide was awesome.We came home via the regular rte which is still very difficult in places because of all the large rocks in the new gravel, 10 mph is almost too fast.

Ray Brady died this week and his funeral is today.

http://billingsgazette.com/lifestyles/announcements/obituaries/article_0a2eb996-6de7-11df-9b33-001cc4c002e0.html

He was a special person, no-one comes close to the role-modeling he gave to all around him as a man who lived in the Cheyenne way to the best of his ability. He received the Bronze Star when he was in the service. He will be missed by me and all who knew him.