Tuesday, June 24, 2014

stay with the fruit

Sometimes I look back over collages I've made to see what might have been hidden to me until now. Finding your inner Lewis & Clark is a great marching order for summer, or any time for that matter. It will definitely take you out on some sort of a limb, where fruit is. Something I learned recently is this: stay with the fruit. Stay where there's energy, goodness, kindness, love. Where there are books and berries. Where there's perfume, colored pencils, letters and ladybugs. If there's no fruit hanging from the limb you're on right now, go looking for some. Then stay with it.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

B, L and T

Summer drives a faded red pick-up truck with a quilt in the back for impromptu picnics. It stops at roadside farm stands, drive-in movies and soft-serve ice cream joints where the line of customers spills into a parking lot illuminated by the glow of a neon sign. Summer carries a straw bag and a bandana and a library card, wears cotton shifts and cork sandals, has toes painted coral. Summer stays cool by ducking into a museum to catch the new exhibit and porch sitting in front of an oscillating fan. Summer is a paper bag full of peaches, summer is pie. It is fireflies and sparklers and starry nights, beach umbrellas in popsicle colors, a home run at the bottom of the ninth. If summer had initials, they would be B, L and T.

Friday, June 6, 2014

summer romance

Me, Dante, a comfy perch, iced coffee, biscotti to dip in it. And time. Let the summer reading romance begin.

Monday, June 2, 2014

dog days

{Towie}
Dogs don't get dragged down by the whole Monday thing. They live a more seamless existence, approaching each new morning with enthusiasm. Ready to pounce and play, roll in the grass, walk anywhere, angle for a treat, make a friend. Ready to love and, especially, to be loved. What great teachers they are.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

June one

Let there be gardenias. Let there be mortar boards with alma mater-colored tassels and sheet cake with Congratulations spelled out in icing. Let there be a mason jar filled with herbs on the kitchen sill and hummingbirds at the feeder outside the window. Let there be strawberries for breakfast, a mountain of summer reading to climb, an ice water pitcher floating with cucumbers and mint. Let there be porches and poetry. Let there be June.
(image)