So happy to see you

As I was blading (Or at least trying...Wet pavement and lots of leaves and sticks on the trail) I noted that the colors for today were yellow and purple. This little bee apparently thought the pickings were better on the purple flower and was so absorbed in working that she didn't notice me- or wasn't bothered.
I have read some really good books about bees. My favorite, by Sue Hubbell, is called, strangely enough, A Book of Bees. It is a fun and interesting account of her work as a bee keeper. She describes and illustrates, in a folksy manner, the parts of a hive and explains the process of keeping the bees happy and obtaining the honey. Even if you have no interest in keeping bees yourself, it's a great book and I highly recommend it! Now I am going to have a piece of bread with honey.

Early morning, late summer

My bicycle commute takes me by this small pond. Situated in a park area, by afternoon it is populated by kids fishing and dogs running after sticks thrown for them to fetch. But early in the day, it is generally a solitary place, visited only by the occasional heron standing statue-like in a quest for breakfast. One day last week, the morning was cool- a welcome respite from recent August mornings when the air feels too warm and wet even at 6AM. The cool air caused a fog to float on the pond surface which was otherwise clear as glass.

Safe travels- I'll miss you

The redwings are gone for the year. In ways known only to them, they sensed the coming of the cooler weather and have set out for their winter destination. I love these cheeky birds. To me, more than any other sign, they are the harbingers of spring, returning to Ohio in late February when little else indicates winter is nearly over. I'll see them in their favorite places, perched atop a cattail, swaying in the breeze. The males would be nondescript if not for the brilliant red patches under their wings. They show those off proudly; the contrast of black and red is eye-catching and beautiful. Their willingness to swoop at humans who walk, bike, or blade too close to their nests hidden in the reeds speaks of their bold personalities, just like their wing patches. And so, in mid-August, the wetlands seem empty as I go past. I miss their presence on the cattails and their buzzy calls, and wish them safe travels until they return to us next spring.

A Gentleman

Shackleton is wonderful boy. He has an air of quiet and calm about him as he goes about his days. He is a constant at the end of our bed- he's there when we leave in the morning and always settled in at our feet for the night. Every day when I leave the house, I say goodbye to each of our furry children. Usually the other cats require a hunt, but Shack is always waiting on the bed snuggled in with a white stuffed seal or sheep. He lifts his chin into the air so I can pet his neck and purrs his thanks. He turns down normal cat treats- politely- but loves a piece of honey baked ham in the morning. Shackleton is rarely vocal, except when asking to go down the basement so he can sit on a box and look out the basement window. He sits by the basement door and gazes up with such sweet eyes that, in spite of our determination that no cats go down the basement, we open the door and he trots happily down the stairs. Hating to trap him, we close the door most-but not all of the way. Inevitably, one of the other cats will discover that the door isn't really shut and will wedge it open with a paw. His or her brethren cats soon follow, so we round them all up and swear we aren't going to open it any more- until Shack asks the next time.

Summer in my garden

One of my greatest joys is to wander along my garden, just filling my eyes with the vibrant colors and watching the bees work the flowers.
I notices yesterday that the leaves of the Buckeye tree in the backyard are starting to turn red, and we need a light on when we get up at 6AM.
Summer is preparing to make way for autumn. For now, my flowers.

Devoted companion

Winnie is a good, good dog. She is eleven years old, born on the summer solstice; in dog years she is of senior age, and somewhere around 80 in people years. Winnie is big for a female collie, weighing in at around 80 pounds. She has a beautiful, thick white mane and soft, silky ears. Winn is the kind of dog who shows her soul in her eyes. She smiles a lot. Every evening, when Birdy and I turn into the drive, Winnie, who is waiting at the front door, recognizes us and I see her get to her feet. When Birdy is in the garage and I open the back gate, Winnie is at the back door waiting for me, happy to see me and welcome me home. Her form of greeting -required, not optional- is to stand between my legs and to prance from one back foot to the other while I scratch her hind quarters and tell her how happy I am to see her and to ask her if she has had a good day. Every evening, without fail, she waits for me. Friend, devoted companion; her greetings are a daily gift she gives freely.