This has been a nightmarish week--my kid was assaulted by another kid at school on Tuesday, and I have been beside myself. My brain has been in a tailspin, hashing and rehashing every bit of the incident, and what might have precipitated it and how am I supposed to keep my children safe in this crazy f-ed up world. I honestly think I may be more bothered by the whole thing than he is (Mr. Reticent, he doesn't talk much about this sort of thing).
Aaaanyway, before Tuesday, there was Monday, at the tail-end of a busy weekend (baseball and birthday party and more baseball and shuttling kids all over kingdom-come). I stole a few moments to wander the yard, camera in hand, soaking in all the very late-Mayness of it, with leaves and buds all in their last burst of opening, when they're all young and tender and green (or, to quote Pony Boy Curtis quoting Robert Frost, "golden") and not even a tiny bit insect-nibbled yet.
Z and I finally got his screech owl box hung up a few weeks ago. I think we were too late--no owls have moved in--but it will be ready for next year (and when we went to a raptor program, we also found out that screech owls do live in Maine).
The lilacs are just starting to open (I thought we would lose them to pouring rain, which happens pretty much every year, but the sun came out yesterday, and maybe it will stick around a few days this time).
A sure sign that we're beyond frost danger (though we did get down to 35 degrees F yesterday)--our houseplants have all moved outside (how about that brown Christmas wreath? Time to take that down yet you think?).
I hope the bees found the apple blossoms before the rain earlier this seek washed them out of the trees.
I weeded my lazy garden and put in a ton of plants evicted from one of my father-in-law's gardens.
They're mostly irises, which is fine with me, because I love irises, but it does mean that my garden is pretty much done by the end of June.
Meanwhile, C has been continuing apace rebuilding our vegetable garden beds. All that's left of the old gardens is the bed where I planted garlic last fall. It's like the shack that hangs on as luxury condominiums go up all around it. But even the shack will go, after the garlic is harvested.
My favorites this time of year are the little plants that spring up in the lawn (why would anyone ever use weed-killer on their grass when they could instead enjoy such delights as: Blue-eyed grass.
Violets (this has been a bumper violet year).
Grape hyacinth don't really count as "springing up" since I planted them there, but they're doing a good job of spreading around (much better than those little blue things that come out a month earlier and are called something like squill or squib...I can't ever remember their unlovely name).
Just looking at these pictures reminds me that there is solace and healing in nature, and that I (and my son) need to get outside this weekend.
Jesus, Andrea. I'm reeling from your first paragraph. What a horrifying situation. My thoughts are with both of you. (With all the bad news I've been hearing lately, I'm considering creating a commune. Wanna come along?)
ReplyDeleteGoodness, that's awful! Hope everything works out in the end and you do get some time outside sniffing the lilacs.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kristen and Meryl. I'm reeling, too. Definitely not anything you imagine will happen to your own sweet child.
ReplyDeleteI've loved blue-eyed grass since I gardened one summer with a woman old enough to be my mother. She managed to pass along that much of her wisdom, anyway.
ReplyDeleteThis certainly is difficult to comprehend...an assault on the twins, a playground misunderstanding with a bully??
ReplyDeleteI sure hope that the boys have been able to talk about the situation and have found resolve. As you have with your walk through the woods, contemplating the wonders of spring.