I took advantage of a day off to accomplish a number of things: doctor appointment, hair cut, and repotting plants. The day was too beautiful not to spend some of it outside and my hospitable friend, Melanie happily offered her time and her place. We have walked paths that wind across her property in every season. We have watched for comets and stars in dark hours of the morning. As I drove to her home, I felt my spirit become lighter anticipating a shared few hours.
As I approached her driveway, I noticed bluebirds on telephone wires. I slid my camera into my pocket as we began our walk. The day was bright and warm for November. We wandered through her garden, edged with drooping sunflower heads and tomato plants that had littered the ground around them with small, orangey red globes. Mint was as pushy as ever. Her basil plant had been huge, and the blue berry bush still sported green leaves.
We saw bittersweet and avoided stepping on too many walnut hulls in an effort to save our shoes. On poor tree had numerous broken branches rubbed clean of bark and shredded by rutting deer.
When I walk slowly like this, I often look down at the ground, my eyes searching for familiar plants and flowers.
"Look, Melanie, a wooly caterpillar."
The words were barely out of my mouth before she saw another, then I saw another. Read More