Magic unfurls

Each new morning is a new song, a new jewel under the brilliance of the sun.  I sit outside in the long settee, and listen to the birds sing from the various perches, and I listen... listen to the songs of water and to the silent notes of the earth singing a sad song...

Breathing with unconditional breath the freshness of morning air... 

...the quietness of little things

...the color green under my skin.

...and just now, as I was writing this, a most cruel battle between two bright orange-chested robins unfolded. I just sat there and watched as these two feathered little things flew along the garden in a terrible battle cry... making a ruckus of their twitting and their fluttering of wings.  What were they quarreling about?  One only has to wonder.  And why would the animal world fight like it is with humans in the world of men?

I have been feeding my roses with an organic magical potion called fish emulsion and indeed this works like magic, the roses are growing lush and strong leaves and I have never seen the peony bushes as lovelier and as plumped as they are this year.  The birch trees I planted last years are spiraling up like mad, and I’m hoping that the one little birch tree which had been desperately trying to survive for the last two years would come to life as well, and grow and be as tall and as beautiful as its older comrades—eyes and all.  Because, yes, these trees grow a very poignant and clear eye in the center of their trunk, which I assume it must be where their brain reside.

The lilac tree has started putting out their purple jewels and I guess I could never look at this tree again and not think of the miracle of the flowering branch, that winter after mom's passing.  How great is our Lord; how marvelous His love toward His earthly children... How well He knows us, how well He knows our circumstances, nothing is ever lost from His sight concerning those who loves Him. 

I spray painted the old pink bowling ball in yellow this time and sometimes I like to think that the morning sun came down to nest in my garden. 

The garden floors have been painted in fuchsia with petals from the crabapple tree.  It is always the same around this time of the year, magic unfurls, it snows petals, and it is beautiful, so very beautiful everywhere I look... my soul can’t get enough of it...

This garden it truly is magical my friends... just as I was putting my camera away, I spied a huge black bird flying away from the farthest end of the garden... what was it, I couldn’t tell... a raven, I supposed, although I’m still in doubt.