Skip to main content

A Rainbow Strikes





June is rolling by, awash, so everyone has forgotten that it's summer now. 
This morning I peered into the vegetable plots, into the swaying minarets of onion buds, the splay of cabbage seed pods, not sure if the raspberries were the summer or the autumn kind. 
Lovage flowers, tiny spray on tall stems; lavender in bud: summer.
Wild strawberries and rose petals in the dehydrator and the windows open to better hear the thunder: summer.
After an evening swim one must wrap up: always. 

I am busy writing a story that seems to be running in rings about me, I am busy wild swimming to clear my head; working to pay the bills, reading up on rural planning law to wrestle reality from a dream. Picking the roses, the strawberries, the onion flowers. Tending the cabbage bed. 
Standing still when I remember: see the swallows swoop by.
Or floating, bobbing up toes, while each rain drop ripples out.
Or that stop on the beach, while I am looking ridiculous with a towel on my head; two lumpy layered jumpers, damp jeans, barefoot; a rainbow strikes through darkening cloud. 






Comments

Tanza Erlambang said…
yes, we are in the hot summer season now....
Great shots
12 June 2019 at 12:17
Anonymous said…
Warm enough, still raining here :-)
21 June 2019 at 09:40
Susan Flett Swiderski said…
It's hot here, too. Your garden sounds a bit like our daughter's She's really gone all out this year and is having a grand time with it. She's really excited because her radishes and arugula have both produced some sort of bean! (Who knew? Not ME!)

That rainbow pic is the stuff of dreams. Just lovely.

Have a super weekend. Stay cool!
21 June 2019 at 13:53
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
2 comments
Read more

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...
26 comments
Read more

A Glitch Or Two

My Chromebook has been crumbling. It seems a little like dementia, this inability to upgrade its powers of communication, it makes me sad, even for an object. It's one of the reasons my posts here have been put aside, that and generally being tumbled by tiredness. I have saved up money for a replacement, also I have spent that money on trees and shrubs. I have two novels to sort out however, and this will be the reason I save up again. I don't stop writing, even if I don't tell anyone. In the meantime should you need a calm place to go, I have begun a substack account. Please do drop by. If the kettle crumbles we can make tea (or soup) on the firepit. Me on substack:  Lisa Southard
Post a Comment
Read more