mumma yaga

 June 20 Summer solstice: revel of senses, revel of nature, revel of the physical. A day to go out into the sun, smell the air, see the flowers and trees, awake, vigorous, alive. Feast on strawberries and wine, walk barefoot on the earth, be roots, be tall as a tree. Today is a day for the senses, not for thoughts and words. Tonight no sleeping - stay up and dance, under the stars and the moon, while fireflies blink, magic, like fairies, among the leaves and grasses. The sun rose this morning at 5:02, but didn't clear the mountains until 5:29. It rises behind the north woods at this time of year. This was the sky in the east at 5:00. Over the west ridge a portentous cloud raven greeted the day:  This was the winter solstice sunrise. The sun breaking over the Sleeper. ***** After the sun is gone from our lawn, it still lights up the far hills, the Sleeper. Frog and toad: (I think that's a book...)    In the lower meadow in the middle of a copse of raspberry brambles, ...

 June 16 Fox-and-cubs, a most charming name for this flower, which is also called orange hawksbeard, the devil's paintbrush. orange hawk bit and mysteriously, Grim-the-collier (a collier being a coal miner or charcoal maker). How is it already June 16? The days are long and full, though I spend many minutes a day simply watching the valley, the clouds and the birds. But the weeks fly by - one day the first curled fronds of ferns appeared, the next a riot of wildflowers everywhere and bees and bugs busy, busy on every plant and stalk. I frittered away my younger years, it seems, when time seemed slower, though in truth I was busy then raising children and learning all that I know. Now the years go so fast. Every generation must learn the same lesson. We are human and mortal, imperfect, in a world beyond our comprehension: vast, probably meaningless in any human sense or understanding. Ah, well. Does it matter? What matters more is being what we are, doing our human work of loving an...

 June 14 Drizzly rain today most of the day, we have had only 4 or 5 mm.; it's cooler and very windy, blowing from the south-east, unusual.  I have a bird app, called BirdNET, which records and analyses bird song for identification. It kept telling me that the whistling I was hearing was a scarlet tanager, which I seriously doubted! This morning I saw him, bright red on the top branch of the Blind Witch. I have heard him singing these three or four days. He is the first scarlet tanager ever, on my bird list. (Which list only exists in my head, unfortunately.) A pair of goldfinches is nesting nearby, I watched one fly to the top of a tree on the ridge today and sit there, a tiny speck of bright lemon,  they have been about for several weeks now. They are common hereabouts. I see them all along the roads when I'm out.The robins' babies are fledged and follow their parents around the lawn begging for food and trying their predator skills. The hummingbird is a regular visitor...

 June 10 Solar Eclipse: Rahu, who was beheaded for drinking the nectar of the gods, tried to get revenge by consuming the sun, but without a body, the sun came out the other side!  We purchased this painting in Bali, Indonesia, in 1983. The references I find on-line blur the myth we learned in Indonesia with other legends. The sun depicted here, we were told, is a female version of Surya, god/goddess of the sun. * ***** The word has been journey. Since the beginning of the month, it has been a theme running through my days. It first came up with regard to my diet; I see how that has evolved over decades, meandered through healthy and unhealthy paths, vegetarian, omnivorous and international. I see how it is not static, but will continue to change as I am drawn towards healthier cooking, new foods and cuisines. It will probably divert into unhealthy and indulgent side roads, even as a greater variety of nutritious, sustainable foods are incorporated. In the past week I have see...

June 8  "Where have you BEEN?!", asked 12 year old Rain the moment I came in the door. Even now, my oldest and my grandchildren are at the door as I come in, with questions and calls for attention. I should consider it a compliment! I am needed and loved. Snake spit on the plants. It's not actually snake spit, of course. It's a bug larva in a foamy protective shelter of its own making: the spittlebug, aptly named. The days are so physical, the senses so occupied, that the mind takes a back seat; the internal stays quiet, watches and listens. So many pictures, so few words. We liked having the cows here. They are beautiful. There might have been 20 or 25 cows and their calves. One bull, a big black creature, liked to stand near the fence, between the cows and me. He had a little sidekick black male calf that loitered near him. They have all been taken to another pasture and I can visit the stream again. The stream, settled into its summertime existence, small but consi...