I usually write about nature but today will be different - I just want to celebrate good friends that care enough to come and visit. Even Snowy enjoyed her day! Hill House hasn't had a visit from youngsters in a long time and they were so cute and fun to have here.

Daily Haiku

there is nothing like

the sound of children's laughter

to gladden the heart

Septic Butterflies

With temperatures in the 90's every day we were well underway to aquiring the prairie browns and tans of grass color that signifies high summer and early fall. But a storm a few days ago dropped another 1/2 inch of rain conserving the green that has been such a pleasure this year, both to our eyes and to those who are putting up hay. In the photo the taller long weeds and grasses in the middle and left of the picture, are those that are fed by the drainage field from the septic tank. They remind me of one of the first poems that I wrote:

Saturday Moments

Blue skies
puffy white clouds
sunlight;
shadows created
by clouds across the sun.

I sit outdoors,
my oily body producing rivulets of sweat
which trickle down my throat,
collect in a stream,
and flow into the fold between my breasts.

Cool breezes flow through the pine trees
the sound reminding me of surf
rolling up to touch my feet,
and spending laughing days
running along the beach.

A shadow touches my eyelids.
A vulture caught in the breeze

passes overhead.
One wing dips, and momentarily
he changes course;
looks down at me.

Dead flesh he thinks?
I smile.
Not today
I call,
and he flies on.

White butterfies
flutter through the lush weeds
growing on the drainage field.
I chuckle, happy to consider
that my waste
creates a playground for butterflies.

A multitude of swallows circle angrily,
disturbed by some predator?
A moment later they are gone
calm's restored, and I hear water
rushing over rocks below the hill.

Blue skies
Puffy white clouds
Sunlight;
Shadows created
by clouds across the sun.

The Nest

This morning at my office I noticed a wrens nest that must have been blown out of the tree by the big storm. What a beautiful work of art. Their little beaks carefully wove grasses and twigs; lined it with soft hair - maybe sweepings from the house of the elderly lady who lives next door. It is strong enough to hold the sacred eggs and a few little pink and gray bodies with large beaks along with mum or dad.

Like the wrens, I have lost my nest. Not the physical surroundings but the spiritual entity that was lined with the soft hairs of love.

Daily Haiku

not a day goes by

without my remembering

all those years of you

After the storm

Daily Haiku

orange lily flames

reminder that life goes on

that storms always pass

The Bad Storm

It came marching up the river, and down Hanging Woman Creek simultaneously, and seemed to collide over our house. I could tell by the way it moved so fast that there were high winds with it. The rain started, ordinary at first and then torrential with a high wind. Then with pops and bangs the hail started; the noise mounted until it was almost deafening. In amongst this was lightning and thunder, but the thunder was almost drowned out by the noise of the ice golf balls being thrown at the house and windows. I prayed very hard that the huge picture window on the porch would be spared - it was specially shipped to us from Denver in 1967.

I went into the kitchen and discovered rain being blown in through a broken window and made a makeshift stop with a copy of the New York Times. There were shards of glass, some the size of a large pinhead all over the floor and dining room table. The glass is the old kind (at least 1932) that you can see wavy lines in. It is a shame to lose any of it. Once the storm calmed I made a makeshift block with some cardboard. The storm window that we leave on the middle

window was smashed and probably did a good job in protecting the actual house window.

I slept well last night being grateful that more damage did not occur.

Daily Haiku

hailstones hurled by wind

screamed like banshees at windows

my heart was stronger

Fall Thoughts

Even though it is barely the end of July, there seems to be signs of an early fall in the air. The swallows are flocking, the morning temperatures have fallen to 49' and 52' at night in the last 10 days. The leaves on the cottonwoods are beginning to rattle, and the chokecherries are beginning to ripen. But the cricket that sings when we move towards fall is not yet in evidence.

Daily Haiku

morning silently

waits for song of the cricket

heralding the fall

Star Gazing

A special gift of sympathy was given to me this week . A bouquet of flowers. I used the safety belt in my car in order to transport it down the gravel road without bruising the blossoms. In the bouquet was a Stargazer Lily; oh how I love them. Large, vivacious, and aromatic it sends it's fragrance out into the room and captures my attention every time I enter. It keeps me company by it's sheer perfume.

Many of us gaze at a star-filled sky. I would guess that poets indulge in the past-time more than others. A walk under a deep blue sky filled with stars at the end of summer or early fall is

like seeing a miracle, and if we are especially lucky, we can witness meteor showers. Out here in Big Sky country it is rare that we cannot see the stars, one of the many reasons I love it here.

Daily Haiku

in our star-filled world

we float towards a heaven

not of our making

**NOTE

Stargazer lilies originated in the late 1900s, making them a new addition to the more than 3,000-year-old lily family. Depending on their context and color, stargazer lilies can mean purity, sympathy, prosperity or hope. Though traditional stargazer lilies' petals have red and pink bursts of color outlined in white, stargazer lilies can also be solid white. Read more: What is the Meaning of Stargazer Lilies? eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/facts_5792067_meaning-stargazer-lilies_.html#ixzz0u5pT2uI9

Relining the Nest

With the warmer weather Snowy is shedding in hand-fulls. I brush her daily and always take out at least three brush-fulls. She leaves clumps of hair thoughout the house. Since Peter left she has been waiting for him to come home. I think she has finally adjusted; the other night she sat in his armchair stared at the upholstered back and then batted it with her paw as though she was angry wth him. I know how she feels.

Daily Haiku

they will line their nest
with a swathe of white cat fur
for a second hatch

Coronation Gold

With abundant moisture this spring and early summer the Yarrows are very majestic. Suited to our arid climate, they grow and bloom each year despite the whims of mother nature. Right now they are between 4-5 feet tall. The type that I planted around the house is called "Coronation Gold".

I am trying to reprogram my day and find things to do that I enjoy by myself and have no memories attached. At lunch I turned on the TV and went to Headline News; there I was lucky enough to see, live, the Queen of England address the United Nations. She is a remarkable woman and I admire her; people do not realize how hard she works. (I just wish she'd lose those hats!) A quote from her speech,

"the UN has moved from being a high-minded aspiration to being a real force for common good. But in tomorrow’s world, we must all work together as hard as ever if we are truly to be a United Nations”.

I remember her coronation in all it's splendor. It was one of my first experiences with television. Aerial on the roof, of course, we all sat in a darkened room and watched the Queen in her coach riding to Westminister Abbey in flickering black and white images. A far cry from the high definition color that I watch today. Coronation Gold.... a fitting flower for a Queen.

Myosotis Palustris

After a loved one dies we often look around for little signs of a spiritual presence whether it is real or fanciful. When my first husband died I found many signs, with Peter none until this morning. I have collected Portmeirion Botanic Garden for many years and we decided to use it every day and enjoy it instead of setting it all aside for guests and special occasions.

This morning I dropped a breakfast mug. The words I uttered are unprintable. I was about to throw it in the garbage when I decided to look to see which flower was illustrated on it. Then I got a surprise - Myosotis Pallustris - Forget-Me-Not. How appropriate for the day in which I went to the crematorium to say goodbye. I will never forget 36 yrs of marriage to a loving, kind, father and husband.

Two of my close Cheyenne friends were with me Charles and Donna Bearcomesout. I read the poem LOVE (July 3rd) and said a few words about Peter loving all his family, particularly loving his children enough to bring them up as a single parent - facing many hardships. Then Charlie talked about knowing Peter for many years and said a blessing for him in the Cheyenne language.

No Peter; anyone who has loved us as much as you will never be forgotten. Myosotis Pallustris.

Daily Haiku

tiny flower of blue

five-petaled face peeps at you

sincerity shines through

July Fourth 2010

LOVE

God is the ultimate expression
Of love in this world.
If we love ourselves,
Then God’s love is expressed
Within us, and through our actions.
If we love others, then we show
The face of God to them.
Only by love
Can our wildest dreams
Be realized.

© C. Valentine 5/2007

The Widow

The Widow

I am a widow
I will wear housedresses
I will mow the lawn in curlers
I will get a poodle named Curly
I’ll eat tuna casserole on Friday
Watch soap operas in the afternoon
When I die they'll say
She grew good lilies

Daily haiku
every memory
is a stab wound to the heart
when you lose your love