I'm a little late with my paintings this month (too many deadlines!) so I'll just go ahead and put up the words for now.
There is a word you might know called Namaste’ From my understanding it means:
I honor the God in you. Or I honor the Good in you, or the Beauty perhaps.
I had two nice apples that fell from our tree that I almost removed this year as it is leaning at a 45 degree angle and practically taking down our fence. I decided to give these apples to the deer that on very happy days, come wandering down our path in the woods. I strolled out, rather hastily at first, when a wood thrush galloped along a pile of brush slowing me down with the chatter of his feet. Oh yeah, I thought . . pay attention.
I arrived at the spot where we set out corn and other goodies in hopes they will be found. I placed the two apples in as pretty a position as I could and asked the fairies to make sure someone found them and put them to good use. With my blessing complete, I turned so that I might head towards the meadow that surrounds the church and there she was. Just a baby. Ears perked up, eyes wide and watching. I paused, motionless. “Namaste”, the word filled my mind and it was sent as a love letter across the 20 feet of path that divided us. The little doe stared back. I have some apples for you, I said silently. Again, she stared back.
This is the time I usually watch, so taken to be eye to eye with such a quiet, peaceful creature, until at last, they turn aside, or spring away into the woods. This time, I turned away. I let her stay with the blessing I had left for her. I took my share. I didn’t use it up like usual. I left full.
My garden is so full of life right now, almost anytime you come out you get a surprise. Goldfinches are chipping away at rich seeded centers of the black-eyed-susans. Catbird is testing out the pyracantha berries willing them to ripen. A set of robins have started to enjoy the crabapples, the size of plump peas with crimson coats. The hummingbird who has been visiting my zinnias all summer long has joined the buffet of my newly bloomed sedum. The large leaves of the black-eyed-susans are peppered with dropped seeds which I turn in my hand and toss to the back of the bed for harvest next spring. The cleome seeds are bursting from their long slipper-like pods preparing for a lush meadow of blooms next year. Everything is giving back, tenfold, or maybe hundredfold. That’s the way a garden works.
Marigold practices drawing the Goldfinch, lucky for Marigold, he is very patient.
Mrs. Goldfinch hasn't as bright a coat as her husband, but Mari loves her just the same!
