Soon the earth and skies about me will vibrate with cicada voice, my heart will hue with serenity and my own vibration will be one of praise

The secreted hatchlings will slither out from under felted lamb’s ears and hosta cover, sunning and coiling…most welcomed guests in my gardens

The porcelain berry has vined its way about the rhododendrons and the Black Knight, perhaps an invasive guest, but their striking berries of violet, fuchsia, denim, and turquoise are a wild I cannot refuse

The dill I seeded strictly for swallowtail caterpillars, has clearly been serving its purpose…fulfillment from the simplest of acts

I sought out the thistle of last year, a drifter that found me, but not everything returns, sometimes underground for a year or more, only to awaken and make mystery once again…I suppose the gold finches will be forgiving of the absence, the sunflowers keeping them sated 

Every summer there’s a new wonder about the gardens and yards…I can feel a build, much like a thought not yet in voice…it hasn’t approached yet…hasn’t made itself known in physicality…nonetheless, I feel it and patiently I wait…

E.A. O'Connell