SUMMER SOUNDTRACKS AND BEAUTIFUL THINGS

There is a short seven days before the first day of summer. What the fuck? Well, I guess I have to just accept that time is flying this year, so I put on the Doobie Brothers. They sound like childhood summer to me. So does Steve Miller and Rickie Lee Jones and the Pointer Sisters. I can picture my dad playing tennis in his Jesus sandals with his friend Dingo. His black curls flopping down over his cop sunglasses. The smell of ditch weed wafting off of them. “Black Water” coming out of the car stereo. It’s a funny memory. 

The little goldfinches are traveling in neon yellow clouds, flitting from one fluffy dandelion seedhead to the next. A couple days ago my friend Michelle and I took the dogs to the creek and stumbled across a mama wild turkey sitting on a nest. The dogs didn’t notice thank goodness. She was frozen so we wouldn’t “see” her. Our predator eyes on the front of our heads were too much for her though and she flew off exposing three FUZZY baby chicks, maybe three days old. They all scrambled in different directions as their instincts tell them, but one ended up at my feet stuck in some grass. I picked up the impossible fuzz and set it gently back in its nest. UGH! SO CUTE! It still had its little zebra stripes and everything! 

Coco the dog seems fully healed from her torn ACL surgery and is back into creek zoomies with her best buddy, Millie, the border collie. They are pretty into each other. The neighborhood chickens are looking fat and glossy now that there are so many bugs. I miss having chickens… Sigh. The horses where Boon now lives are sleepy and content. Boon is nappy in the sun and loves his new pasturemate, Nicky, who bosses him around just like he likes it. He could not be happier, which is such a relief as I didn’t know what sort of long term effects to expect after Norman died. They were a heavily bonded pair. Seeing Boon so happy makes my heart lighter. 

Speaking of the horses, I walked the old horse path behind the garden at home yesterday. They have been gone a little less than a year but the fields and paths are so grown in. Between the grass and the thistle and the bindweed and nettles you can still find the narrow track their sharp, heavy feet made. It makes me miss them terribly. Their sounds and smells were so warm and comforting. Their shuffling, snorting and fly stamping were part of the sublime farm soundtrack. Now its special brand of quiet is much quieter. The birds are doing a good job of keeping it from lonely though. The garden is so grown over that I’ve barely made a dent in the detangling required. The bindweed has run amok. Yesterday as I was pulling some bindweed off of a little lilac tree I found something so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. It was an old nest from last year, tipping over from the weight of last winter’s snow. In it was carefully woven hair from both horses; dark brown and grey. Their bond was enshrined in the tiny creature's home, along with some moth’s wings, a couple leaves and some milkweed floss. It is a masterpiece of engineering. A masterpiece of love.

And speaking of love, I’ll see you tomorrow at one of the MANY “No Kings” protests across the United States. Please consider going to one of these peaceful events if you haven’t already. We cannot let this greedy, vengeful mad man continue. A heartfelt “thank you” to everyone already protesting and resisting ICE and speaking up for Palestine, Medicaid and our veterans. For our bodies, our identities, our rights as humans. Here is a GREAT link via HOW WE FIGHT BACK to help you find a local protest and good reasons why you should go. Take heart, beautiful people. We aren’t going back.

A masterpiece.

And what are the odds you find all three of your cats on pairs of socks!? If only I had three feet so I could sport one on each! Hahahaha!