At the Pond

We took a bottle of bubbly and some herbed brie and crackers down to enjoy the early evening at the pond. The scent of the wisteria was intoxicating.

Along with the wisteria, the yellow flags (irises) are putting on a show.

Many years ago, before the property next door had anyone living on it, I pulled up a couple of yellow flags growing in a boggy spot just past our fence line and transplanted them to our pond. They have done well.

It's such a beautiful and peaceful spot. There were butterflies and red winged blackbirds. As we sat there, sipping the wine and enjoying the surroundings, the thought came to me that the pond would be a perfect spot for my ashes to be spread someday. And a minute or two after I'd silently entertained that thought, John said, You know, I think this is where my ashes could be spread someday.

When you've been with a person well over sixty years, this kind of simultaneous thought happens quite often

The pond is a fine respite from the news of the day.

                                                    

                                   We'll be back.

 

Pond Life

 

In the Little Pond

 

May Day

Late Tuesday afternoon was so beautiful and such a perfect temperature that John and I took a chilled bottle of white wine down to the pond to enjoy the wisteria's last shout.

It was around five and the light had that luminescent 'Golden Hour' quality.

Though the blossoms were fading, the wisteria's fragrance was strong, enveloping us in a sweet cloud.

The long shadows of a golden afternoon.

As I typed the title of the post, I thought of how MAYDAY is a recognized cry of distress (from the French m'aidez - help me.) And I thought, not for the first time, how this pandemic could be seen as a cry for help from the earth--as mankind's pollution is increasingly shut down, the earth begins to recover.

And how nice it would be if we learn something from this timeout--the importance of the unseen workers we all depend on, the inequalities inherent in our political system, what things in our lives are necessary and what is excess . . . and the simple fact that we're all in this together. 

At the Pond