A slice of time.

It's been a grayish rainish day today and now that night is creeping in, the sunlight has taken on a misty mystic haze of almost-but-not-quite-a-rainbow light.

The air glows like golden dust.

The sun is behind the trees now. The trees are haloed in the diffused light. Not quite colors quiver as leaves tremble.

Along the alley, a long lazy ray of white light makes its way down the pavement, perfectly placed evenly with the edges. At those edges, where the light meets the grass, the color blossoms into golden fizz, dancing above the ground.

I reach for my phone, my only camera, and try to capture this ethereal moment that was already fading.

I cannot, of course. The magic is beyond both my skill and the phone cameras abilities.

I hope my words have helped you to see it. A slice of time such as this is meant to be shared,and i am sharing it with you.

May Flowers.

 I have been planting.

First I had to weed and turn over dirt and add to it, before I could plant, and then I started small. A few of these here, a couple of those there. The first flowers were gifts. Then I bought some. And after I had thoroughly disturbed and roiled the dirt, I tossed in some seeds that I've had in a drawer.

Monday, after a family meal with two sisters and a cousin, I bought way way too many more flowers. The colors were so bright and cheerful. I couldn't resist. I bought enough to share, and some intentionally to share. Spread fresh dirt over it all.

After Monday, of course life got thoroughly in the way. Rain, and then my arthritic knee started jabbing me if I moved. It's not nice having to hobble around my one room on my stick, but at least I didn't have to resort to the more bulky and awkward walker. 

Finally the rain stopped. Leftover April showers, I suppose, since Nature doesn't go by man's calendar. 

Even better, the sun came out.

Today I went out  and planted most of my huge haul of pretties. Those lovely reds, the lemon yellows, blushing orange. pretty pastels, all jumbled up into eye-catching glory.

If I do say so myself. Haha.

I have ten plants left to go into the ground, and that's going to be tough. I havem't quite figured how to do them yet. The ones I planted today I planted in a raised bed. These others have to go in the ground,

Getting to the ground with my complaining knee may be a problem. Or maybe just getting up will be that problem. None of my knee braces are helpful for this issue.

I do, however, have friends, and one is going to loan me some long handled tools to at least do the digging with. And if I dig deep enough, I can drop the plants and bend over to place them, instead of get right down there.

BONUS: The landlord really, really liked what I have done.

Summer Family Fun.

Today, my sisters are going to a family reunion. It will be the first Schmidt family reunion since my dad died. (I think. I could be wrong about that.) It will be odd  to have his family there and he is gone, but life is a winnowing out process, and the sad truth is he wasn't the first to go.

We have lovely weather for the event today. The heat has backed off, the storms that reduced it to cowardice have moved on to vanquish elsewhere. The sun is shining, skies are blue with puffy white clouds. There will be trees and a lake and restrooms and paths and picnic tables and a playground.

A perfect day for a family to reconnect, however briefly.

It grieves me that I won't be there. I love some of my father's sisters, even though I haven't been around them for years. I love them although I know little of their lives and they know less of mine.

Saturday we will be having another family party. This one I'll be able to attend. This one I will attend. Good lord willing and the creek don't rise -- an apt qualification in this case, since the party is being held near Red Oak Creek in Ripley.

I'll see people there that I know, know of, and maybe a couple that I don't know. New victims to observe, new cadences to hear. All within the safety of a family network, and of course an easy exit in case of overwhelming anxiety.

First week of August is busy with birthdays in this family -- thank goodness they aren't all celebrated individually with parties. A person would be constantly on the run (although birthday parties would be more pleasant running than doctor's visits, hospital tests and trying to get prescriptions filled.)

There are fairs, too, and church festivals. It's my firm belief that the only reason it rained three days this week is because Adams County Fair was in progress. It will rain three days the last week of September, when Brown County Fair is in progress. That's just how it works in this part of the country.

Summer is a good time to catch up with everyone. The hard part is catching up with yourself and your own.
Having family is important, having fun is important too.

Having you is important to me.

Have fun and take care. 

At Long Last, RAIN!

Today, stars danced in the streets and diamonds lined up on the back of my glider and dropped pure crystal beads into the dry grass.
In other words, it rained. Lovely rain.

Not a drought buster, to be sure. Not even good rain in places near to me. When the flash floods warnings go up before the storm warnings come down, you know it isn't a good rain.

But it's still a wet rain, even if the relief is short. It's nice thick dark clouds that keep the sunlight from burning down and baking the ground, from reflecting and refracting and getting hotter from every surface it's bounced off.

When I was little, I used to drape myself over the back of the couch, stare out the window, and watch the raindrops hitting the road. They'd hit and bounce and splatter. I thought it looked like stars dancing in the street.

It still looks like stars dancing in the street.

And why wouldn't the stars dance when some of us are finally getting some rain and some relief? Aren't the heavens supposed to rejoice with us, and isn't that where the stars come from?

Don't they ride the raindrops down, to dance together on the blacktop?

To the Motorcyclist

To the motorcyclist on Tri-County today: You were a joy to drive behind. You maintained a steady speed,  with no swerves and no sudden stops. You stayed in your lane. Not only did you stay in your lane, you stayed straightly in your lane, no riding from side to center and back again.

I have seen motorcyclists do all these 'fun' things. I understand the urge, but when I am the following driver, it worries me. When I am the approaching driver, it scares me.

There's been a lot of news stories about motorcycle accidents, and how to avoid them. There are Facebook and e-mail pleas to watch out for the motorcycles. It's good for drivers to be aware, but the cyclists themselves often take risks that don't have road safety in mind. Weaving from edge to centerline, making sudden turns or stops, speeding up and slowing down. Part of the freedom of riding, but unsettling to other drivers.

So you were a joy to follow today, from Mt. Orab to Sardinia, to Macon, where we parted ways.

And, after having followed you, when the road opened before you, and you met the challenge, your shirt billowed like a sail -- ah, then, I wished that I were you.

The Summer Sunday Parade

Wrote this a couple years ago; it's a personal favorite. And while it is Easter weekend this year, not Memorial Day, the brrooomms and bzzzes of the neighborhood, raised voices and banging doors makes this selection seem appropriate for Now. I hope you enjoy reading this.

The Summer Sunday Parade

It's quiet in my part of the world today. A peaceful, storybook Sunday morning. So far. But this weekend is the unofficial first weekend of summer, and the 'parade' has already begun,
Not the parades that will be tomorrow -- those are official things, but along with the unofficial meaning of Memorial Day, comes the unofficial parades.
Every town has not only its own traditions, but also its own little habits. Winchester Ohio has one that I've not seen before.

Like most small Ohio towns, Winchester has one gas station and a half- dozen or so churches. The Sunday morning peacefulness is due in large part to these churches. Parking lots overflow, the curbs are 'fully loaded' yet there are no people anywhere, not even annoying loud-mouths on (or off) their skateboards, standing in the middle of the streets blocking traffic.

On Sunday, even the lawn mowers have a peaceful hum. And everyone knows that, because Sunday afternoon in Winchester is the time to take your lawn mower to the gas station. Not take. Sunday afternoons are when we drive our lawn mowers to the gas station.

Yes, the Summer Sunday parade has begun. Church is out, dinner has been eaten, and it's time to fill up the lawn mower for the week ahead. All afternoon, I can sit on my porch and watch as they trickle by. Even with gas over $4 a gallon, it's easier to take out the lawn mower than take out the gas can, put it in car, drive the car, take gas can out of trunk, fuill it up, put back in trunk, drive home, take can out and empty into mower. Besides, it's much more fun to meander slowly down the road, wave to neighbors, enjoy the fresh air and sunshine.

Impractical, yes.
Energy-concious, not so much.
But, sometimes, life should just be savored, and a Sunday drive on a lawn mower fits that definition just fine.

Sun on the Line

This time it's official. It's spring. The sun lined up with the Equator this morning at around 1:30 local time.

I've often wondered what it was that makes the weathermen say "Spring began at 5:15 am."
Now I know, thanks to the wonder of the Internet. Spring begins when the sun balances itself over the Equator.

This concept sends my imagination off in a couple of different directions.

One: Jimmy Dean commercial. I mean, can't you all just see that man in a golden ball doing a high wire act, eating a sausage croissant or something? With every teetering step he takes -- or maybe a little jouncy-bounce -- big old flowers wearing people faces look up at him and "Oooooh!" Or maybe just uncurl and stretch, stretch, stretch. And Mr Sun hands them out sandwiches so they can start their time off right.

Two: The definition of the Equator is an imaginary line around the earth. At least. that's the definition in the article I read. Doesn't mention anything about the imaginary line being there to divide north from south, or to measure the fattest part of the globe, or anything like that. Just that it's an imaginary line around the earth.

Think what we could do with that! An imaginary arbitrary line someone drew around the earth. Think of the possibilities! For instance, if we've had a really bad winter and want to be done with it, we can drop that imaginary line a few degrees south. Then we can announce that it's an early spring! Never mind that Buffalo is still buried, Detroit is digging out, and all that. It will be Spring, because the sun (on his Balance Beam, mebbe?) has lined up with the repositioned Equator.
It will be Spring.

In reality, this year the weather is midsummer. The winter nearly wasn't.
Suns and Equators have had little to do with either, but anything that can present such charming scenarios to my idle mind can't be all bad, and are worth sharing!

Happy Spring, for those of us in the North. Happy Autumn to those in the South. For this day, we will all enjoy the same Day.

Maybe that's the most wonderful part of the day.