room

red yucca

cherry guarana

spiders dig onions

first onion

Most of our onions are still robust and upright but a few have fallen over. The top had completely wilted on this so I figured it was time to harvest it.

ponytail palm

This plant and I have a history together. It has had a rough go of things lately, but it's hardy and on the mend. (The dragonfly talisman was my wife's touch.)

apollo and diana

hello summer

We got our first real blast of summer heat this morning, the "oh wait, wow" kind. (Afternoon showers, sultry.)

first flight

When the time comes for the fledgling wrens to leave the nest, there is no going back. The mother and father take up safe perches nearby, then turn their faces to the sky and sing their loudest, brightest, most joyful songs. The young wrens eagerly stretch and shake their fresh new feathers and then leap away once and forever from the nest's confinement into the wide-open sky.

First flight is sacred, always, as it is the moment another new soul joins the dance with every other soul in the web of life and light that weaves together the days fate and destiny grant it. First flight is one of life's most dangerous moments, too. The singing and flurry of new wings attracts notice. Many lives begin and end in that first free movement out into the world.

Our knowledge and acknowledgment of the sanctity of every moment is what we are here for, to bear witness to the wonders of this great blue ball of gas and rock floating around a tiny star in a vast, vast universe. We are here to celebrate all the miracles that had to happen to create life from stardust. We are here to fill our days with the best of who we are, to fill our passage through the world with our love, our kindness, our own light.

Every life, every moment joins a new one and we need to remember to step into each as boldly and innocently as the young bird taking its first leap into the sky, into the song, into the wind.

so what have we learned this week?

Listening to Mozart doesn't make you smarter, but eating dirt does. Also, the internet is rewiring your brain. We already suspected that last one. (Last two links via dangerousmeta!)

here's how this episode ends

NextGen fans all know that due to the effects of a fortuitously timed tachyon bubble, Jean Luc and Deanna and Geordi and Data are all hovering in high orbit helplessly watching us flounder and quietly mourning their inability to seal the self-inflicted hole leaking dark poison into the Gulf with a quick phaser blast because they can't violate the prime directive.

But Number One is on a covert away mission, using a combination of sly misdirection, subterfuge and manly man charm to convince a frustrated but plucky and beautiful young scientist to build a ground-to-space semaphore device to send the Enterprise a desperate SOS, 'cuz, y'know, it's different if we ASK for help. That's all the excuse ol' Capt Peckard needs to lend us a hand.

Then in the last couple minutes of the show Jean Luc will deliver a gentle moral lecture to young Wesley about how we nearly destroyed ourselves by allowing our laziness and greed to outstrip our ability to use our technology and resources in a sustainable, harmonious fashion for the benefit of ALL life forms on our planet, but we're a young civilization, and we'll learn from our mistakes, and the Federation will be happy to welcome us into its fold when Zefram Cochran finally breaches the warp barrier. Meantime, the tachyon bubble is closing and they gotta go.

And despite Number One's bearded allure, the plucky beautiful young scientist will stay behind and help us all make better choices. She knows where her duty lies, and besides, she saw how he was looking at Deanna.

gourds

At least I think these are the gourds. They might be the melons. I dunno.

green and yellow

I rode without a helmet today. I'm such a rebel.

bewick's wren

We have a young family of these in one of our backyard birdhouses.

brewer's blackbird

This one is new to us. He came around to pick bugs out of the lawn right after we mowed.

monsieur chat au roche ronde

gardenia

We planted this gardenia seven years ago. This is its first flower.

chard gone to seed

baby yellow-billed cuckoo

Hiding out in our garden this evening. Cuckoos are cool.

Update (next day): This one didn't make it through the night. :(

blue jay fledgling

Waiting on a parent for food.

pea harvest

Yup. That's all of 'em.

into each life

near and far

Sunday afternoon ride.

chickadees

Hieroglyphs.

coreopsis and salvia

tanya

carolina wren

Soft light in the backyard this morning after last night's thunderstorms.

wedding bracelet

I haven't worn a wedding ring for several years now; over the course of our long marriage I have worn out and outgrown two of them. The first was the gold and white-gold band I started our marriage wearing. I never took it off, ever, even through my four and a half years in the Army. (The Army allows you to wear two pieces of jewelry, a watch and a wedding ring.) But after I got out of the Army I gained some weight and eventually the ring didn't fit. The second was a sterling Celtic knot ring. It wore out.

We've looked off and on for a replacement, but nothing has really caught my interest. It would have to be something minimal for the sake of my guitar-playing.

As for bracelets, I used to wear a jute friendship bracelet my youngest made for me, but it eventually wore out and broke. I missed it, so I asked my wife to make me another. I wanted something thin, with three rocks or beads, with a metal clasp.

The rest was up to her, and she wove this bracelet out of hemp, with three small wooden beads. I wear it all the time. She made it with her heart and hands; the three beads represent our children. I never take it off. Every time I look at it it reminds me of everything in the world I love best.

evenin' too

This was from along the bike trail last night.

this is what happens to most of our peaches

evenin'

Mandala.

watering

Kabuki.

butterfly and onion

Sandwich fixin's for pixies.

serious dove

done

baby peaches

We had few blossoms and no peaches on this tree last year, probably because of the drought. This year we had a wetter winter and the tree seems to have bounced back. Lots of baby fruit. The neighborhood critters will eat them all before they ripen.

happy mother's day!

may flowers along the san gabriel