the brilliant blue sky is
framed by fresh buckeyes, creased like green party napkins, and oak leaves.
in a yoga stretch i extend my foot up, eclipsing the almost too hot sun, and a halo surrounds my shoe.
insects catch the sunlight. as i stare up towards the atmosphere a swallowtail butterfly,( a large, striking insect) becomes illuminated from above, brighter than a Tiffany lamp shade. i can see it's veins.
the purest periwinkle. |
pollen sex bombs. |
there is no restraint.
the spring flush comes when the soil heats up to about 60 degrees and the bursting grass becomes rich with nitrogen,
the insect eggs hatch, the bird song keeps the suburban street sounding like a country field.
life is hurried and flushed.
two. |
near my home is the secret spot where i now sit. it's a little slice of wild pie that evaded the surrounding razing and development and pays tribute to what once was, and the many creatures that thrive there still.
this movie won't play like i hoped it would, but let link's sweet moves come through the gif. |
after reading mary's recent post i am reminded and inspired to do a five minute bird count. all i can hear is bird song, anyhow. that and the rumbling from the near-by train tracks.
red wind black bird
mourning dove
crow
song sparrow
house finch
kill deer
mocking bird
flicker
i'm serious ornithology novice but i keep my ears open. there's more, i'm sure.
ty hunted down the "best chocolate cake" recipe on the interwebs. we choose to spell his nick name differently. |
all sing in the first three minutes. this ain't the woods but it's not too shabby. a bird count can be an approximate indicator of diverse life being supported, their wild songs paint the air revealing the true nature of suburbia: a bunch of houses, roads, and malls placed in a wild field and the wilderness creeps in at the edges. take into account the number of small animals that scurry along the edges today and it would seem that the earth and life itself, is indomitable, secretly flourishing despite the relentless onslaught of abuse.
the wooly bear caterpillar: unoffical declarer of winter conditions. |
these bird songs alone have greatly contributed to my mindfulness and growing sanity within this ludicrous landscape. a landscape that epitomizes waste for the sake of ease. at least they seem to like it here, for the most part.
increasing habitat. increasing habitat everywhere, restoration, this is what gets my soul singing. more homes for birds, spiders, and us. this is what has led me to permaculture.
it's true, there are a lot of doomsday things to mull over and gain more awareness over. economy, pollution, changing jet stream patterns, mass extinctions... the knowing supports the reverse actions. |
the class discusses the twelve principles of permaculture. |
it's watching the aspect of the sun and planting perennials, letting the soil heal and grow it's own ecosystem rather than mining it over and over each spring with annuals.
it's allowing plants and animals to do what they do best and then receiving the abundance of the natural world, rather than forcing uniform chaos on invasive flower beds and over-watered green lawns or eking out ever decreasing yields in toxic agri-business.
it's knowing that soil is alive.
living soil. from here. |
and what i love most: permaculture increases and restores habitat for both human and insect, growing food and shelter in the form of well-planned eco-systems.
virgo moon in placerville, kicking butts. it was my first full day away from lincoln and i came home bawling. and i did it again the next day. momma bear hormones. |
linky runs about in the early morn at my mom's, who so kindly watched my chillens for me. |
roseville's future? i'd be honored to be a part of it. from suburbanpermaculture.org. |
imagine being in a room with people who care about all of the things you do! WE ARE NOT ALONE. |
the class room, inside of a garage near grass valley, ca. our instructor is a bad-ass activist who has been all around the world, learning from the fathers of permaculture. she says we're fourth generation permies. :) |
of course, i'll be taking this knowledge to our future homestead. COMPOSTING TOILET! GREY WATER POND!
from here. |
'an early spring'
i dreamt that portland filled up with gardens
and people on bicycles passing me by
on streets lined with fruit trees
and bright colored squashes
oh how the greens and yellows took me by surprise
i broke down in the streets
overcome with nostalgia
for this place i'd never been
and now i wonder how
we got so far away
from what we could be.
post title borrowed from my favorite song by june madrona
what are the soundtracks to your dreams? wish me luck on mine!
blessings during this time of balanced light and dark!
xo
blessings during this time of balanced light and dark!
xo
what was that- sex pollen bombs!! I need to know more of this :)
ReplyDeleteyou are making me think wonderful thoughts. the wild creeping in around the edges. it makes my very bones sing to think such a thought. can't wait to hear more about these permaculture delvings. it has always been a mysterious concept to me: one which i would think i should understand, and yet it's building blocks evade me. i can't wait to more fully understand through you. so far i am getting a miraculous picture, and i love that we are not alone, and that your dream of blooming garden yards is growing.
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