Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Safe Haven

Standing under the Flowering Pear tree this morning without giving you the sound and the fragrance too, does not show the completed picture of what nature was offering . First there was the sound of a thousand bees buzzing harmoniously while doing what they were made to do.., making love to the blossoms. Then the fragrance.., filling the garden with the sweet scent of honey. I suppose it was the pollen.., but it smelled like honey. What a heady combination it was.

Together with the morning sunlight I stood there looking up into the blossom filled tree and the world became a happier place than it had been all week.

The Grape Hyacinth is blooming and the flowering Quince, bought last year, has a few blossoms on it. My first tulip has opened up. It's a green one with pink tips. Very unusual and , although I planted red ones too, I bought these because I thought they would be beautifully different. They are. I love this one.

Carl was watching the goats.., wishing he could herd them around a bit. He would bark and they would just look at him and then go right on eating the wonderful new grass. Freckles always thinks that the grass on the other side of the fence is greener. Brownie never even looked up...

When I drove home from "C"s Wednesday night I was being chased by a huge storm. I left Sacramento just as this storm started moving across the Central Valley. When I got ahead of it out on Florin Rd. I pulled over and took this picture of some beautiful horses against the stormy sky to the west. The green grass, the dark sky, the mustard flowers( a bright yellow streak in the distance) and the curious horses wondering what I was doing was a perfect photo shoot.

I beat the storm home and just as I pulled into the garage, the wind came and the hail started.

What does home mean to you? For me it's a safe haven from the storms of my life. It's being greeted by The Prospector and the Pupster. As always.., it was so good to be home and as we quieted down to listen to the intensity of the rain falling outside ,we sat on the sofa with Carl between us, and cried for our old dog that had to leave us. Now she is buried at the top of the hill above the orchard but her spirit will always be curled up on the floor next to us in our living room.

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Thursday, March 4, 2010

A few Words

Words always seem so pitiful when death comes. I haven't much to say except that today is filled with tears. Sweet Maggie died Monday evening.
The vet came out to the house. She went peacefully, on our front porch, in the late afternoon sun. The Prospector dug her a grave, surrounded it with rocks and we will make a sign with her name on it soon .
I got home late last night from my friend "C"s.
This morning I cut some daffodils and took Carl up to the hill above the orchard. The Prospector was laying rocks around Maggie's grave. It was beautiful up there. Maggie always loved to run up the road to this spot.

We will miss this wonderful old dog. I think Carl is wondering where she is. He had such a serious look on his face up there. One I haven't seen before.
Goodbye Maggie, we will miss you so..., be good and run, again, like the wind.

The final lesson took a while
But finally she understood...
"Is it three days, not counting hols?
Then come and meet me in the wood." ~anonymous~

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Our Maggie

May she rest in peace somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge.
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