Bee-ing Busy

The bees are busy dutifully collecting pollen from the new blooms.

I used to be afraid of bees, since when I was a young girl, I was stung,  and the fear had stayed with me into adulthood.

Years later I have realized their importance in the growing cycle and welcome their return to the garden,  albeit with a heedful smile.

 

 

Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry
Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms.
His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.
His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!

~ Emily Dickinson : The Bee (1830)

 

 

 

Lest We Forget

They fell, but o'er their glorious grave

Floats free the banner of the cause they died to save.

~Francis Marion Crawford

 

Dedicated to our American service men and women, without whose service and unselfish commitment our lives would be forever changed.

"Where There's Tea, There's Hope"

When I found myself recovering in a Rehab Facility a few months ago, awaiting my broken ankle to heal, the doctors and nurses were very diligent in making sure I had access to hot tea.
The dietary menu offered coffee galore, but hot tea was not an option.

Word got around that there's an English lady on the skilled nursing ward, and within a few days, the nurses, dietary staff,  therapy staff, and recreational staff all came bearing shopping bags, filled with boxes of tea, any and all varieties.
It was like Christmas.

They were convinced an Englishman without tea, is not a happy patient.
*giggle*
Their kindness will always be remembered.

No Takers

Quiet moments on the weekend are rare as hen's teeth.

Today was an exception.

*smile*

Selphie

 

 

Oliver cat has been practicing taking a  'selphie'.

He's not quite mastered the art of keeping his eyes open, when the flash goes off.
 

 

Special Delivery

Nobody Left To Love Me

 

Someone always leaving
and never coming back.
The wooden houses left too long abandoned
to turn old and gray.

Weeds pushing apart......
Trees gone wild,
Fields taking over.
Shredded curtains blowing in the wind.

Beams of weathered wood......
No longer able to hold in
The soft heartbeat of Home.

Unknown
 

Planting Times

Beatrix Potter....taking a little tea break in-between gardening chores.

 

 

Serenity

" Peace is when time doesn't matter as it passes by."

  Maria Schell (1926 -2005)   Austrian actress

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For The Birds

Throughout the cold winter months the Mr. has diligently taken care of the wild birds needs.

Faithfully nurturing their tiny bodies with his special mixture of suet concoctions, fruits, and seeds everyday.

In return we are rewarded with endless hours of entertainment, and their colorful and ever-present choruses of song.

 

The nesting season is now upon us, our feathered friends busily fluffing their nests in anticipation of a new generation of songsters.

Bird houses have been repaired, and newly crafted, and bird baths freshly painted.

The circle continues.

 

 

  

 

 

“Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop
From low hung branches; little space they stop;
But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek;
Then off at once, as in a wanton freak:
Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings,
Pausing upon their yellow flutterings.
Were I in such a place, I sure should pray
That nought less sweet, might call my thoughts away.”

John Keats