Garden notes

We witnessed little oval pearls drop from the heavens,  and thanked the stars for illuminating our path of purpose.

Revelatory incantations spill over into fellowship (like a conscious rain) with moon, stars, sunflower and flying owl.

At dusk, the owl in flight forgives the moon for her not being present most of this overcast, warm wet July.

How the garden survived without much housekeeping is a secret secured-- between the edges of the Japanese maple, and the blue hydrangea.  Even the honey bees, lady bugs, and bats know.

Weeding and dead heading throughout a hot damp summer becomes child's play.

Sometimes September seems so far away. Yet, it continues to creep closer. How I shall welcome Autumn is a secret; like a cat in the bag, it soon shall be released.

kjl '20