If I was less inept, I could have captured the sound of this morning’s cool breeze that rustled the trees behind me.
As yet so far as I am aware, there is no way to spontaneously capture the delightful scent of freshly mown grass.
This morning was perfection!
The object of this brief excursion was to see particularly lovely Roses of Sharon.
When Grant goes out for ice cream with Ed, he has the luxury for once of being a passenger and gets to view all that he misses when driving me.
We have been past these bushes numerous times but coming past them suddenly there was no chance for a photograph.
The men had been chatting on Sunday, with the result that Grant couldn’t remember precisely where they had been.
No, I had no idea where they were!
So we had to hunt around a bit.
On a day like today, a treat.
The blooms had been perfect on Sunday
but are quite lovely, still.
A brilliant day for a drive.
For once it was easy to stop, so I was able to get out and look around.
A Red-tailed Hawk drifted overhead and I watched his shadow come and go in the field beyond.
In farm country the aroma is always healthy but sometimes less pleasant.
Today I wished I could bottle up the whole experience and share it.
At 6 this morning, there had been not a cloud in sight but as we continued along my eyes kept lifting up, as they always do.
Especially when there’s a hawk about.
We had been talking earlier about how butterflies (for instance) get their exquisite colours.
All of Nature is too wonderous for it to be random. What other wonders lie beyond planet Earth?
Just recently, space exploration has come back into focus. I remember so well Neil Armstrong landing on the moon.
54 years on and re-creating that first step appears to be a great achievement.
While I was not a great follower of the space program, I certainly paid attention.
At the end of January, 1986 I was in London on a training course with several colleagues.
In those days most people returning to a hotel room at the end of a day automatically turned on the TV news.
And so we did that Tuesday. Moments later we were all back in the hotel corridor looking at each other, incredulous.
The Challenger Disaster was one of those awful, memorable moments that can never be forgotten, like the assassination of JFK and 9/11.
The air crash at Tenerife and Lockerbie.
One thing I can absolutely guarantee you here, is that wherever you think I’m taking you, you will certainly end up somewhere else.
Or perhaps you’ll get there, eventually, via a number of strange detours.
And in keeping with that, I’m taking you back in time to August 15th, that very misty day with the early start.
The day of the shift.
Arriving home later that morning I noticed what I had missed at the crack of dawn.
Earlier in the summer we must have been visited by Monarch butterflies even though we did not see them, because suddenly we had a small number of caterpillars.
But it had ended sadly.
Apparently not so sadly.
August 15th, there was a chrysalis on the Yucca right by the front door.
Excitement! Worry! Which is why I did not mention it. Superstition!
3 days later, rain and wind!
“Should we try to protect it?” I asked.
No, we shouldn’t.
Actually he was right. Interfering never goes well and whatever that sticky stuff is they use, we should market it.
Maybe someone already did.
It just looks so fragile.
There was good reason for my anxiety, though. Last year a chrysalis just like this turned black. It was dead.
There were no very apparent changes until yesterday.
We’ve been holding our breath.
As I sat writing this afternoon, a fly came by. It obligingly allowed me to catch it and see if off.
10 minutes later another flying beast took me outside. My eyes dropped to check the….OMG it’s gone!
The process is not instantaneous, so had I really missed the launching?
One of the most joyful moments I have ever witnessed was the maiden flight of a Monarch butterfly.
As I looked around, there she went!
If I had missed the launch, the butterfly came back to show herself.
“You see! I’m alright! I made it!”
Go in safety, precious creature.