"on bug" season

a fathers day frolic

After dinner and before tucking the chickens in for the night we take out the Bs, John Deere two cylinder 1947 and 1949 tractors, and go for a ride. For this our original walking paths through the western meadow have been multiplied and widened. Sitting on the seats of these giants our heads are high above the landscape rather like being astride elephants, I should imagine. Moving at speeds approximating a light jog there's plenty of time to view all that is growing on these sweet acres and witness the changes taking place, the birds, butterflies, bees that live and visit, the foot paths and nesting spots the deer have made.
A few short days after the solstice, our meadow is wearing a patchwork frock of ever-changing perennials, young as the summer is young, mostly goldenrod and queen anne's lace, vetches, coneflowers, ditch lilies, asters, grasses of many types, curly dock, orange hawkweed, fleabane, campion, nettle, knapweed. (There are uninvited residents as well, wild grapevine, burdock, thistle, brambles and cow parsley, but these in their way provide habitat and sustenance.) Over this she has donned an early season pinafore of daisies, the hems of which are stitched in wild strawberries and white sweet clover. Her pinafore's pockets are currently full of red clover, birds foot trefoil, and eager stalks of milkweed.
Though we are surrounded by commercially farmed acreage, we take comfort in knowing our ridge meadow is a respite from the artificially modified and chemically harmful. Is it any wonder she is teaming with life?

"on bugs"?
Who can resist the magical winking lights of warm summer nights? In Buteraland fireflies or  lightning bugs are known as "on bugs." Makes perfect sense, don't you agree?

on this day

Thank you sweetheart-o-mine. How the time has flown.

Here's to the next 44 years, or rather, forever.

Whether weeding, reading, or feeding the chickens,  not paying the slightest attention to what's just outside my bubble of being, I sometimes feel as if I'm going nowhere. And sometimes feel as if I can't keep up in any single way.
Actually, if I think on the simplest level, I am spinning on the Earth's axis at about 1000 miles per hour. As a speck on this big blue marble I am circling the sun at 66, 000 miles per hour. And that's just the beginning. If you are interested in the  specifics, there is a good link here.
But seriously, many days I slip into bed and think about all that still fills my "to do" list and wonder just what I've done all day. Not taking the time to post even the simplest of the joys I feel here on our ridge top meadow seems such a lost opportunity.
I am blessed to be living during a time when technology allows me to spend moments each day looking through your windows whether they be across town, across the country, or on the other side of the world. Each of you in your own dear ways bring me comfort, encouragement, joy. Today I reach out and thank each of you.