Dear old friend, I am here again...

Such an unlikely time to be posting...sitting outside on the ground watching a fire dance and swirl in the chimenea. All alone. Yes, you heard me. All alone. Kevin is at work and the boys went to spend the day with Grammy and Grandaddy at Sea World. I think I have really needed this day...I didn't do anything fancy, in fact I went out to Lowes and bought a butt-load of dirt and herbs and such to re-start my pitiful garden. And I worked my ass off outside (well, not literally, but a gal can wish can't she?) digging up and planting and putting down nemacide and compost and dirt and dumping old pots, refilling them and watering and fertilizing and on and on...

I hope they grow.

So I sit here with a glass of wine and the flames aren't so large, they've died down quite a bit to the point that I wonder if a fire is really burning and then you see a delicate yellow tentacle whip out to claim a piece of wood that was lying in limbo...

It's so beautiful out here. I turned off the porch light and I was amazed to see how well lit the yard still was. I looked up, it's just a little over half a moon full, but so much light. The palm fronds--you know they are green, and your brain doesn't really give over to what it sees over what it knows--but if you try hard enough you can see that they aren't green, they are BLACK and they are wearing silver sheaths over each leaf, a silver that comes and goes depending on the movement as it sways ever so delicately in the gentle moonlight. I don't think I ever really paid that much attention to them before, it's like a black and white ball for the foliage.

So I look around at my baby plants. My little babies...I so want them to grow. I can't make real babies very well (well, the ones I DO make are amazing!) and I still grieve the one I lost. The one I was mourning when I went to a Beltaine festival where I actually bought this cloak, and so I remember that time whenever I wear it. Sometimes I cry but I don't tell anyone, it's not so much acceptable to miss a child you never knew, never held, never even got very far along in pregnancy with. It's just a 'miscarriage', never mind you saw a beating heart. I think it was a girl. I think she's out there somewhere. I wish I knew her.

However, I have the two best little boys in the world. And I want these plants to grow and nourish them, and teach them. Respect life, even if you aren't sure that it's alive...give it hope and love and faith. Be patient and caring. What you give is what you will receive.

I thought "Oh Mother Earth and Father Sky...please make my hands healing hands, growing hands." I don't really know what prompted the thought or titles, but it seemed to fit. "Sister Moon dancing with the wind and the trees, share your magic with my little ones." And the trees tilt and sway in perfect harmony with the wind, the silver sheaths glimmering...black, then silver, then black again...and the fire reaches up for a taste of the wood given to sustain it and the moon smiles down and I'm so glad I've had a chance to spend a few moments alone with Mother Nature.