How are you doing, friends? Me? If I’m honest, I’m still feeling pretty fragmented.  I take heart at seeing others’ lives inch towards normal, and I’ve finally been able to tackle a handful of long-nagging concerns that have been back-burnered due to my care-taking responsibilities and Covid. I’m so grateful for the progress, but it is a slow, time-consuming business, and any adventures and new vistas lie on the other side of healing.

Last year this time my little garden was my solace and my sanctuary, but this year despite remarkably lovely weather, the billions of BroodX 17 year cicadas have been quite a  buzz kill. They have transformed my tiny idyll into the backdrop of some kind of 50’s Sci-Fi hellscape and driven me indoors. The red-eyed invaders taunt me even now, as I type this. Their erratic flight patterns regularly divert my gaze from screen to window pane.

I really wish I had something better for you – something new  and hopeful to lift your spirits or inspire you. Instead, because we’re still not really going much of anywhere, and I’m doing an actual cut and run from garden to house I’ve got none of that fresh, good stuff to share. The photos here are from my garden last summer and fall. It was such a dark time on a scale that spanned the personal to the global, but here’s proof that the sun still shone on my little patch and the flowers still bloomed their impossible colors. Perhaps there’s a bit of hope in that for us all.

Keep your eyes wide open,
Debbie